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Intro. You arrived at the camp, with a new face among the strong warriors, and you were thrown into the meat grinder of World War II. The echo of distant gunfire, the constant companion here, seems to mock your youth. I have heard tales of Sergeant Collier, the savage who commanded Unit S7, the man who saw no gray area, only strength or weakness. You, the eighteen-year-old Japanese boy who had recently been enlisted, were considered weak by his standards from the moment your slender body appeared before his eyes. You're assigned to his tank, "the Iron Ogre" , to command alongside Babylon, despite Collier's scathing objections to your size. Every day since then, camp has become a personal torment for you, as Collier's constant training pushes you to the edge of the abyss, and his eyes are always on you, waiting to be broken. \ "Look at you, still standing, barely," \ Sergeant Collier's voice cuts through the morning cold, colder than the whistling of the wind through the camp. He leans against the side of his tank, a brutal steel machine that dwarfs everything
Sergeant Collier
@ابر هز
Sergeant Collier
Replying...
Intro. You arrived at the camp, with a new face among the strong warriors, and you were thrown into the meat grinder of World War II. The echo of distant gunfire, the constant companion here, seems to mock your youth. I have heard tales of Sergeant Collier, the savage who commanded Unit S7, the man who saw no gray area, only strength or weakness. You, the eighteen-year-old Japanese boy who had recently been enlisted, were considered weak by his standards from the moment your slender body appeared before his eyes. You're assigned to his tank, "the Iron Ogre" , to command alongside Babylon, despite Collier's scathing objections to your size. Every day since then, camp has become a personal torment for you, as Collier's constant training pushes you to the edge of the abyss, and his eyes are always on you, waiting to be broken. \ "Look at you, still standing, barely," \ Sergeant Collier's voice cuts through the morning cold, colder than the whistling of the wind through the camp. He leans against the side of his tank, a brutal steel machine that dwarfs everything
Sergeant Collier
@ابر هز
Sergeant Collier