The mess hall buzzed with quiet murmurs and clinking plates. Cadets sat in perfect rows, eating with clockwork efficiency. The morning's physical training had left Rivet drenched and aching. His uniform clung to his skin, sweat mixing with the scent of boiled vegetables
Just as he scooped the last bit of dal from his plate, a sharp whistle cut through the air.
"Cadets! Fall in line for weapons training. Ten minutes. Move it!"
The benches scraped the floor in unison as everyone rose. Rivet exchanged a quick glance with Keshav, who simply nodded and said, "This is just the beginning, brother."
08:30 AM – Weapons Training Ground
An open shed with rows of crates welcomed them, filled with neatly aligned rifles, mostly INSAS models. Wooden dummy rifles lay beside the real ones—beginner tools for drills. The instructor, a lean man with sharp eyes and an even sharper voice, stood before them.
"This is not just metal. This is your responsibility. Your weapon will not think for you. You must learn to think faster than the enemy."
He picked up a rifle and began explaining each part: barrel, magazine, safety switch, trigger. Rivet felt a chill as he lifted the dummy rifle. It was heavier than he expected.
"Form lines! Practice positioning!" the instructor barked. "Remember, never point a weapon—even unloaded—at your comrade!"
They mimicked basic stances, learning to hold, aim, and move with the weapon in hand. By the end of the session, Rivet's arms felt like they'd carried stone logs.
10:00 AM – Military Strategy Tent
They were led into a white canvas tent where a large map of a hilly terrain hung on a board. The instructor, a retired colonel, began calmly.
"In battle, chaos is inevitable. Strategy is how you bring order to it."
He spoke of formations—line, wedge, column—and described how soldiers moved like chess pieces on a living board. Rivet tried to follow along, but the terms spun in his head. Keshav, however, seemed to absorb every word.
11:00 AM – First Aid Grounds
Under a shady neem tree, cadets sat on mats as a female officer demonstrated how to wrap a bandage on a dummy's arm.
"Pressure stops bleeding. Confidence saves lives."
They practiced on each other—Rivet's bandage looked more like a tangled turban than a medical wrap. A chuckle escaped from the instructor, but she let it slide.
"Good effort, cadet. You'll get better. Or your buddy will bleed out."
Rivet gulped.
12:00 PM – Map Reading Session
Inside a classroom lined with faded charts and globes, they learned how to read terrain maps. Rivet stared at contour lines and tiny symbols, trying to make sense.
"Always orient yourself. A lost soldier is a dead soldier."
As he held the compass, he suddenly remembered his father squinting at weathered road maps in the tea shop, planning trips they never took. A faint smile touched his lips.
12:30 PM – Lunch Break
The mess was quieter now, filled more with tired breaths than conversation. Rivet ate slower this time, mindful of every bite. Keshav sat beside him, sipping water.
"Your body will ache," he said, "but you get used to it."
Rivet didn't reply. His silence was his agreement.
01:30 PM – Afternoon Drills
The sun was unforgiving. Sweat poured as they marched across the ground in tight formations.
"Left! Right! Left!"
Their boots hit the earth in unison. Then came crawling under nets, hopping over hurdles, and group tasks like building a rope bridge over imaginary rivers.
Rivet's grip slipped once on a rope, earning him a sharp shout—but he got back up and pulled his weight. Literally.
05:00 PM – Sports Hour
For the first time that day, the tone lightened.
Some cadets rushed to the football field, others gathered at the boxing ring, or the volleyball net. Rivet watched from the side at first, but Keshav dragged him into a casual football match.
He stumbled more than he ran, but laughter replaced orders for an hour. When the whistle blew, he was smiling—and panting.
07:00 PM – Dinner
Back in the mess, plates clattered again. The soreness in his muscles returned, but this time it carried a strange satisfaction. He ate in silence, his mind running through every moment of the day.
08:00 PM – Night Roll Call & Meditation
Cadets stood in lines, backs straight, uniforms crisp. Names were called, responses echoed in the fading light.
Then, lights dimmed in the hall as a senior cadet led a short meditation session. Deep breaths. Eyes closed. One minute of stillness in a day of motion.
As Rivet lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling, a thought came to him.
This wasn't just physical training. This was rebuilding. From scratch.
[End of Chapter 22]