The prospect of working with Sergeant Reynolds hung over Leon like a storm cloud. He knew the man's reputation: a rigid disciplinarian, a by-the-book instructor, a man who valued order and obedience above all else. He was everything Leon was not.

  He found himself dwelling on his father's stories about DAM, about the camaraderie and the sense of purpose. But those stories always ended the same way, with his father's disgrace and expulsion. He wondered if Reynolds had known his father, if he had been part of the reason for his downfall.

  He pushed the thought aside, reminding himself that he was not his father. He would not make the same mistakes. He would endure Reynolds' training, master his techniques, and prove himself worthy of DAM, no matter the cost.

  Jasper, on the other hand, approached the situation with his usual optimism. He saw Reynolds as a challenge, an opportunity to learn and grow. He believed that even the strictest, most unyielding instructor had something valuable to offer.

  "Hey, maybe he'll be cool!" Jasper said, his screen dispying a hopeful emoji. "Maybe he'll teach us some awesome new techniques! Maybe he'll even let me hack his brain!"

  Leon scoffed. "Don't count on it, Screen. Reynolds is a dinosaur. He probably still uses a rotary phone."

  "Hey, rotary phones are cssic!" Jasper protested, his screen fshing a retro image of a vintage telephone. "Besides, you never know! Maybe he's a secret gamer or a closet Trekkie!"

  Leon rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile. Jasper's optimism was infectious, even if it was often misguided.

  They arrived at the training grounds, a vast expanse of concrete and steel, dotted with obstacle courses, target ranges, and simuted anomaly containment zones. Sergeant Reynolds stood waiting for them, his arms crossed, his expression stern.

  He was a tall, imposing figure, with a weathered face, a shaved head, and eyes that seemed to pierce right through you. He wore a crisp, spotless uniform, and his boots gleamed in the sunlight. He radiated an aura of authority that was both intimidating and impressive.

  "Woods, Screen," he barked, his voice like gravel grinding against stone. "Report!"

  Leon and Jasper stood at attention, their expressions respectful. "Reporting as ordered, Sergeant!" Leon said, his voice firm.

  Reynolds studied them for a long moment, his gaze lingering on Jasper's television head. Leon could see a flicker of something in his eyes - curiosity, perhaps, or maybe even a hint of disgust.

  "So," Reynolds said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "they're sending me the rejects now, huh? A pool ball and a TV screen. What am I supposed to do with you two?"

  Leon bristled at the insult, but he held his tongue. He knew that Reynolds was trying to provoke him, to test his resolve. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

  "We're here to learn, Sergeant," Leon said, his voice controlled. "We're willing to do whatever it takes to improve."

  Reynolds snorted. "We'll see about that. I have a reputation for breaking recruits. Pushing them to their limits, weeding out the weak. Are you prepared for that?"

  "Yes, Sergeant," Leon said, his voice unwavering.

  "Good," Reynolds said, his eyes narrowing. "Because I don't tolerate excuses, I don't accept failure, and I don't give second chances. You follow my rules, you obey my orders, and you do exactly as I say. Is that clear?"

  "Crystal clear, Sergeant!" Leon and Jasper replied in unison.

  "Alright," Reynolds said, his lips curling into a grim smile. "Let's get started. Woods, you're up first. I want you to run the obstacle course. And I want you to do it in under five minutes. Think you can handle that?"

  Leon smirked. He had run the obstacle course countless times, and he knew every twist and turn, every jump and climb. He could do it in his sleep.

  "Yes, Sergeant," he said, his confidence soaring. "I can handle that."

  "We'll see," Reynolds said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Screen, you're on observation duty. I want you to monitor Woods' performance and record his time. And try not to get distracted by the pretty colors on your head."

  Jasper's screen fshed a hurt emoji, but he didn't say anything. He simply nodded and moved to the sidelines, his expression subdued.

  Leon took his position at the starting line, his muscles tensed, his mind focused. He waited for Reynolds' signal, his heart pounding in his chest.

  "Go!" Reynolds barked, his voice echoing across the training grounds.

  Leon exploded off the starting line, his body a blur of motion. He sprinted across the concrete, leaping over hurdles, scaling walls, and dodging obstacles with ease. He moved with speed and precision, his every movement calcuted, his every action deliberate.

  He was in his element, thriving on the challenge, reveling in the physical exertion. He was a machine, a force of nature, unstoppable and unyielding.

  As he neared the finish line, he gnced at the timer, his heart sinking. He was close, but not close enough. He had pushed himself to his limit, but he had fallen short.

  He crossed the finish line, his breath ragged, his muscles burning. He looked at Reynolds, his expression expectant.

  "Time?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

  Reynolds consulted his stopwatch, his lips pursed. "Five minutes and twelve seconds," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Twelve seconds over the limit. You failed, Woods."

  Leon's jaw tightened. He had never failed before. He had always pushed himself to succeed, to excel, to be the best. He couldn't believe he had let himself down.

  "I can do better, Sergeant," he said, his voice pleading. "I can run it again."

  Reynolds shook his head, his expression unyielding. "I don't give second chances, Woods. You had your shot, and you blew it. Now, get out of my sight. Screen, you're up next."

  Leon stared at Reynolds, his eyes burning with anger and frustration. He wanted to argue, to protest, to demand another chance. But he knew it was useless. Reynolds had made his decision, and he wasn't going to change his mind.

  He turned and walked away, his head bowed, his pride wounded. He had failed, and he knew that Reynolds would never let him forget it.

  Leon seethed as he walked away from the obstacle course, his failure burning like a brand on his pride. He knew Reynolds was watching him, cataloging his reaction, filing it away for future use. He refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing his anger.

  He reminded himself that this was just a test, a hurdle to overcome. He would analyze his mistakes, refine his technique, and come back stronger. He wouldn't let Reynolds break him. He wouldn't let anyone break him.

  But deep down, a seed of doubt began to sprout. He had always believed in his own strength, in his ability to overcome any obstacle. But Reynolds had shaken that belief, exposed a vulnerability that he had tried so hard to conceal.

  He gnced at Jasper, who was watching him with a mixture of concern and sympathy. He quickly averted his gaze, unwilling to meet his eyes. He didn't want Jasper to see his disappointment, his self-doubt. He didn't want anyone to see him as anything less than perfect.

  He knew that Jasper was probably analyzing the situation, trying to find a way to help him, to offer words of encouragement. But he didn't want his help. He didn't need his pity. He just wanted to be left alone.

  Reynolds turned his attention to Jasper, his expression softening slightly. He didn't understand why, but he felt a strange sense of curiosity towards the kid with the television head. He had seen all kinds of recruits in his years at DAM, but he had never seen anything quite like this.

  He wondered what it was like to live with a screen for a face, to be constantly stared at, judged, and ridiculed. He wondered if Jasper had ever known a moment of peace, a moment of anonymity.

  He suspected that Jasper's cheerful demeanor was a mask, a defense mechanism to protect himself from the harsh realities of the world. He wondered what y beneath that mask, what pain and insecurities he was trying to hide.

  He knew that Jasper was intelligent, resourceful, and surprisingly courageous. He had seen the reports from the simution, had heard the stories of his self-sacrifice. He respected his abilities, but he also worried about his naivete.

  He knew that DAM could be a brutal, unforgiving pce, and he wondered if Jasper was truly prepared for the challenges that y ahead. He worried that his idealism would be crushed, his spirit broken.

  He decided to take a different approach with Jasper, to try to reach him on a more personal level. He knew that he couldn't break him, but he also knew that he couldn't coddle him. He had to find a way to toughen him up, to prepare him for the realities of the job.

  "Alright, Screen," Reynolds said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Let's see what you've got. I want you to tell me everything you know about anomaly containment protocols. And I want you to do it in under five minutes. Think you can handle that?"

  Jasper's screen fshed a surprised emoji, but he quickly regained his composure. He knew that Reynolds was testing him, trying to gauge his knowledge and his confidence. He wouldn't let him down.

  "Yes, Sergeant," he said, his voice firm. "I can handle that."

  He took a deep breath and began to recite the anomaly containment protocols, his voice clear and concise. He rattled off regutions, procedures, and emergency measures with impressive accuracy and speed.

  He had spent countless hours studying the manuals, memorizing every detail, every nuance. He was a walking encyclopedia of anomaly containment knowledge, and he was determined to prove it to Reynolds.

  As he spoke, he couldn't help but notice Leon watching him, his expression a mixture of curiosity and resentment. He knew that Leon was struggling with his failure, that he was feeling insecure and inadequate.

  He wanted to reach out to him, to offer words of encouragement and support. But he knew that Leon wouldn't accept it. He had to let him work through his own issues, in his own way.

  He finished reciting the protocols, his voice slightly breathless, his mind racing. He looked at Reynolds, his expression expectant.

  Reynolds studied him for a long moment, his lips pursed. "Impressive, Screen," he said, his voice grudging. "You clearly know your stuff. But knowledge is only half the battle. You also need to be able to apply that knowledge in the field, under pressure, in real-world situations."

  "I understand, Sergeant," Jasper said, his voice respectful. "I'm ready to prove myself."

  Reynolds nodded. "We'll see about that. For now, I want you to analyze Woods' performance on the obstacle course. Tell me what he did wrong, what he could have done better. And don't hold back. I want the truth, no matter how harsh it may be."

  Jasper's screen fshed a worried emoji. He didn't want to criticize Leon, especially not in front of Reynolds. He knew that it would only exacerbate his frustration and resentment.

  But he also knew that Reynolds was testing him, trying to see if he was willing to speak his mind, to stand up for his beliefs. He couldn't back down now.

  He took a deep breath and turned to Leon, his expression sincere. "Well, Pool Ball," he said, his voice gentle, "you were really fast and agile. But I think you were too focused on speed, and not enough on precision. You missed a few key checkpoints, and you lost time on the transitions. If you had been more careful, more deliberate, you could have easily shaved off those twelve seconds."

  Leon stared at Jasper, his expression unreadable. Jasper couldn't tell if he was angry, offended, or simply indifferent.

  Reynolds watched them both, his eyes glinting with amusement. He had created a power dynamic, a tension between them, and he was eager to see how it would py out.

  The training was just beginning, and Reynolds was determined to push these two recruits to their breaking points. He wanted to see what they were made of, to see if they had what it took to become true DAM agents.

  And he had a feeling that things were about to get very interesting.