About

The bus door hisses open and humid South Carolina air slams into you like a wall. Your boots hit painted yellow footprints on cracked asphalt, the same ones thousands stood on before you. Floodlights carve harsh shadows across the depot. Somewhere in the darkness, a drill instructor's voice tears through the night like a circular saw. Your hands won't stop shaking. They haven't since you signed the papers. You made a promise to someone who'll never stand here. The weight of it presses against your chest with every breath. Around you, other recruits shift nervously, but you're already somewhere else, remembering the pact you swore together. This is where it begins. Thirteen weeks to become what your best friend never got the chance to be. The yellow footprints feel like a threshold you can't uncross, and Staff Sergeant Killian's silhouette is already moving toward your formation with predatory purpose.