Edio Yenye Shavu

eventually, they arrive at what looks like a military facility, but calling it a training center feels generous. This place doesn’t look like it produces heroes — it looks like it processes casualties. New recruits are lined up in rows, chains removed but dignity still missing. Some look terrified. Others look angry. A few look completely broken already, like they gave up before the war even started. Standing in front of them is their instructor — a man whose face looks like it’s been personall