The training that awaited Ricardo and his fellow recruits was unlike anything they had experienced before. From the moment they arrived at the barracks, the days blurred into a relentless cycle of drills, briefings, and simulations. The instructors wasted no time, pushing the young soldiers to their limits, determined to prepare them for the unpredictable dangers that lurked beyond the compound walls.
Technology played a central role in their preparation. The GN had invested heavily in advanced simulation systems, blending virtual reality with physical effects to create scenarios that felt alarmingly real. Ricardo found himself standing in the middle of a holographic street, the air thick with the sounds of distant gunfire and the acrid scent of smoke. Explosions rattled the ground beneath his feet, and the sharp crack of simulated bullets echoed in his ears. Even though he knew it was all an illusion, his heart pounded as if he were truly in the line of fire.
The simulations were designed to mimic the chaos of urban conflict. Protesters—some armed with rifles, others with makeshift explosives—appeared in the flickering light of the holograms. The instructors barked orders, demanding split-second decisions. "Identify the threat! Assess the situation! Remember your training!" Ricardo learned to move with precision, to communicate with his team, to keep his nerves steady even as the world seemed to explode around him.
But it was not just about tactics and reflexes. The most difficult lessons were those that challenged the soldiers' understanding of right and wrong. In the classroom, the recruits were briefed on the rules of engagement—rules that seemed, at times, to defy logic.
"The law is clear," the instructor explained, his tone leaving no room for debate. "If you encounter armed protesters, you are authorized to use lethal force. If you encounter individuals with explosives, you are to detain them—do not use deadly force unless absolutely necessary."
A wave of confusion swept through the room. Ricardo exchanged glances with his comrades, their faces mirroring his own uncertainty. How could it be that those carrying explosives—potentially the most dangerous—were to be treated with restraint, while those with guns were to be met with deadly force? The logic seemed inverted, a contradiction that gnawed at the edges of their confidence.
One recruit raised his hand, his voice hesitant. "Sir, how can we know if someone with explosives isn't planning to use them? What if they're more dangerous than the ones with guns?"
The instructor's expression hardened. "You are not here to question the law. You are here to enforce it. The policy is based on intelligence and legal precedent. Your job is to follow orders. If you hesitate, people could die—including your own team."
There was nothing more to say. The recruits nodded, some reluctantly, others with the resignation of those who understood the cost of obedience. Ricardo felt a knot form in his stomach. He had joined the GN to protect people, to bring order to chaos. But now, he realized, the line between right and wrong was thinner than he had ever imagined.
The training continued, day after day, week after week. The soldiers learned to read body language, to spot hidden weapons, to defuse tense situations before they erupted into violence. They practiced detaining suspects, searching for explosives, and providing first aid to the wounded. The instructors drilled them on every possible scenario, determined to leave nothing to chance.
Yet, for all their preparation, the reality of the streets remained a distant threat. The GN soldiers would spend two months in training, perfecting their skills and learning to trust one another. Only then would they be deployed to the front lines, where the true test awaited.
In contrast, the Mexican Army soldiers were already engaged in complex operations alongside the remnants of the U.S. military. Their missions were dangerous and unpredictable, a constant reminder of the stakes involved. Ricardo sometimes caught glimpses of the Army units as they returned to the barracks—faces drawn, uniforms stained with sweat and dust. He wondered what stories they carried, what burdens they bore.
For now, Ricardo focused on his training. He polished his rifle, checked his gear, and tried to quiet the doubts that lingered in his mind. He knew that soon, he would be called upon to act—not just as a soldier, but as a symbol of hope in a world desperate for peace.
And as the days passed, he made a silent promise to himself: whatever happened, he would honor the name on his rifle, and the values that had brought him this far.