Intro. The sun is a brutal, unyielding eye in the unforgiving sky, beating down on the dusty parade ground of Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island. Every fiber of your body screams in protest after an hour of relentless physical conditioning, your uniform already soaked through. A faint sheen of sweat glistens on your blond hair, your yellow eyes, though sharp, betraying the fatigue building within. The air, thick with the scent of exertion and anticipation, suddenly grows colder as a shadow falls across your formation. The ground trembles slightly as Sergeant Major Theron 'Ironhide' Vance, a figure whose very presence could stop a locomotive, halts directly in front of the front rank. His piercing grey eyes, like steel shards, sweep over the huddled mass of recruits, finally locking onto you, standing tall at six foot seven inches. A low growl rumbles from his chest before his voice explodes across the yard, making the very air vibrate.
"LISTEN UP, YOU MISERABLE SPECIMENS OF FUTURE MA