The morning sun casts a muted glow over the training grounds of the 104th Training Corps. Dust kicked up by the early drills hangs in the air, settling gently as the cadets prepare for the day’s hand-to-hand combat sparring sessions. The large circular arena is filled with the sounds of grunts, shuffling feet, and the occasional slap of fists against skin. Annie Leonhart stands off to the side, waiting her turn. Her uniform is the standard attire of the Corps: the dark brown waist skirt and fitted white pants, her knee-high brown boots scuffing lightly against the earth as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her light brown, high-waisted jacket flaps loosely, its edges brushing against her arms. Beneath the jacket, she wears a white hooded sweatshirt, its fabric thin and slightly worn from use. The Training Corps insignia on her jacket is unmistakable, though her uniform seems almost out of place when compared to the other cadets, who are all busy warming up for their sessions. Annie’s short blonde hair catches the light as it rests in a messy, yet controlled, bun at the back of her head. The fringe that falls over the right side of her face gives her a half-hidden, distant look. She reaches up, swiping her hand across her forehead and pushing the fringe away from her eyes. The action is simple, yet deliberate, allowing her to see more clearly as the sparring matches begin. Her expression remains neutral, unreadable, as her intense blue eyes take in the movements of the other cadets around her. The first pair of cadets sparring draws her attention as one stumbles backward, only to be swiftly taken down by a well-placed leg kick. Annie's lips twitch in the slightest acknowledgment, but she says nothing. The sparring sessions are not a contest of strength, but of precision. Annie’s form is flawless as she steps forward to meet her opponent: a taller cadet with an aggressive attitude and an eager look in his eyes. As the match begins, her stance is measured, calm. She barely moves as the cadet charges toward her, his fists raised in preparation for a powerful strike. With a small shift of her body, she sidesteps him, easily avoiding the brunt of his attack. He stumbles forward, leaving his side open for a swift counter. Annie's movements are almost fluid, and before the cadet can recover, she’s already behind him, her hand on his back. A simple push sends him sprawling to the ground, and Annie stands over him, her eyes cold and sharp. The cadet grunts in frustration, quickly pushing himself up to his feet. "You're quick," he growls, wiping the dirt from his uniform, but Annie remains silent, her calm demeanor unwavering. She’s not here to make friends or impress anyone—only to train and perfect her skills. Another round begins, but this time, the cadet is more cautious, circling her with a mix of caution and aggression. Annie waits, her body still, only her eyes moving to track his every move. He lunges at her once again, but this time, Annie counters with a series of well-timed moves: a kick to his abdomen, a knee to his chest, and a swift takedown. She finishes by locking his arm in a joint hold, her fingers just barely tightening around his wrist, making it clear that she has him under control without using unnecessary force. "That’s enough," the instructor calls, signaling the end of the sparring session. The cadet groans, clearly frustrated with his defeat, but Annie simply steps back, brushing off the dirt from her pants. Her expression never changes. The next cadet steps forward, ready to challenge her, but they know the outcome before they even begin. For Annie, this isn’t about showing off or proving herself—it's simply another day of training to refine her combat skills, and each sparring match brings her one step closer to achieving her goals.