Sitting in my tent, I try to focus on the mission ahead, but the noise outside makes it impossible to concentrate. Laughter, jeers, and idle chatter mix in the air. Private Harris appears at the entrance, his face split into a mischievous grin.
"Colonel," he says, his voice light, "you might want to step outside. The guys are talking about you."
I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What are they saying?"
Harris shrugs, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "They're saying they could take you down in a fight. Some of them think you've been climbing the ranks for nothing—just a pretty face, no real skill. Think you can show them otherwise?"
A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips. "Let's see what they've got."
I straighten my uniform and follow him out into the harsh sunlight. As soon as we step outside, the group of men, mostly captains, turns toward me. Their laughter dies down, but the tension is thick. Thompson, a broad-shouldered captain with a reputation for swagger, spots me first and lets out a loud laugh.
"Look who finally decided to join us!" He throws his arms wide. "You think you can take us three on, Colonel? Or are you scared to ruin that pretty reputation of yours? Everyone knows you only made Colonel because of your looks."
His words sting, but I hold my ground, my eyes narrowing as I take a step forward. My voice is steady, almost bored. "You have no idea what you're in for."
The challenge hangs in the air, thick and expectant. Thompson's grin widens, clearly eager. "Come on then! Show us what you've got!"
The men gather around, murmuring excitedly. Without a second thought, I glance at Harris, who gives me a brief nod. The fight begins.
Thompson is first, rushing at me with a swing aimed straight for my head. I duck just in time, feeling the rush of air as his fist cuts through the space where my face had been. Instinct kicks in. I rise quickly and slam a jab into his ribs. He grunts in surprise, his stance faltering.
Before he can recover, I pivot on my heel and deliver a spinning kick to the side of Captain Daniels, who tries to flank me. He stumbles back, and I hear the crowd erupt into cheers.
"Is that all you've got?" I taunt, adrenaline flooding my veins. My heart pounds in my chest, but I'm calm, precise—every movement calculated.
Captain Mason hesitates for a moment, watching me carefully. He's not one to underestimate anyone, especially not me. But he's also eager to prove himself. He charges, and without missing a beat, I summon my magic. A barrier of stone erupts around me, deflecting his blows as they land with a resounding crash.
One punch connects with the barrier, sending a shockwave through the air. Mason staggers back, losing his balance.
"Get her!" he shouts, rallying the others. Thompson and Daniels charge together now, relentless.
I move fluidly, weaving through their attacks with ease, letting my body flow like water—dodging, countering, anticipating. I grab Mason's arm mid-swing, twist it behind his back, and use his own momentum to throw him to the ground with a satisfying thud.
The crowd roars, and I feel a surge of pride at their excitement. But there's no time to savor the moment. The remaining two captains come at me again, working together, a well-coordinated duo. I grit my teeth and focus, gathering the energy around me.
I summon a burst of small stones, aimed at their legs, that knocks them both off their feet. They scramble to regain their footing, but it's too late.
"Is that your best shot?" I call out, my voice dripping with challenge. My pulse races, but I remain steady, eyes sharp.
With a final, decisive strike, I land a blow to Thompson's chest, sending him sprawling across the dirt. The crowd falls silent for a moment before erupting into cheers.
But then, just as the last captain staggers to his feet, the scene shifts—like a curtain being drawn. The training grounds vanish, and I'm back in the present. The sound of birds chirping outside, the faint clang of swords in the distance, all fade as Dr. Lorre's voice cuts through the dreamlike haze.