Chapter 4: The Weight of Shame
Training was brutal.
Endless drills. Endless corrections.
And every mistake felt heavier than it should.
Because he knew who was watching.
The young man pushed harder than anyone else—running longer, training harder, refusing to fall behind.
But it wasn’t enough.
“Again!” the instructor shouted.
He dropped to the ground, muscles screaming.
Again.
Again.
Again.
One evening, as the sun dipped low, he stayed behind, practicing alone.
Footwork. Balance. Control.
The same movements that had taken him down.
“You’re still rushing.”
The voice came from behind.
He froze.
Turned slowly.
General Markov stood there.
Watching.
“I…” the young man started, but the words died.
The General stepped closer.
“You rely on anger,” he said. “It makes you predictable.”
Silence stretched.
Then the young man lowered his head.
“I was wrong,” he muttered.
The General studied him.
Long.
Carefully.
Then gave a small nod.
“Good,” he said. “That’s where discipline begins.”
Chapter 5: The Lesson Takes Root
