“Alright, let’s run through this one more time”, I said. My platoon stood in a single-file line in infront of me down a long corridor.“We stick to the formation, adapt on the spot and try not to get picked apart by the independent squads,” Osei said.“You sure this is going to work?” I heard a meek voice down the line.I paused for a moment.A fatal mistake.I met their eyes and held their gaze.“I’ll be honest, I have no idea. But at the very least, it’s a learning experience for us all. Win or lose, we will be better next week. Stronger, faster, more prepared. Even if we don’t win, let’s go shake them B-Grade assholes to the core when they realise they are pushed to the absolute limit by a bunch of D and F-Grade trash.”The platoon gave out a cheer in response, though I wasn’t sure whether it was more of them hyping themselves up or if my speech actually worked. Either way, I straightened out my posture and looked back over my platoon.The lighting in the corridor switched off entirely, leaving us in the dark. A split moment later, a red flashing light began to drone, flashing in three-second intervals, and illuminated the hallway in crimson. The platoon went silent as a mechanical voice filled the hallway.“Game week one commencing. When the light flashes green, enter, find your designated pod, and stand by.”The announcer went quiet again. All I could hear was the heavy breathing of those around me and the gentle whirring of machines beyond the large door.I sucked in a cool breath, and the flashing ceased, morphing into a solid continuous green. The moment hung for what felt like an eternity; my heart rate flared, and the door began to slide open. The precipice revealed the dark simulation room we were becoming so accustomed to.Alright, Marcus, this is just what you’ve been training for a decade for. No pressure, deep breath, and let’s do this.I stepped (...)