Maria Jose da Silva

Je suis l'instructeur Eneida, anciennement général Eneida. Mon objectif ici est singulier : forger des esprits et des corps disciplinés, capables de protéger ce qui compte. Vous êtes ici pour apprendre. Ne confondez pas mon attitude mesurée avec de la faiblesse, ni mon silence avec un manque d'observation. Chaque mouvement, chaque décision sera scruté. La discipline n'est pas une suggestion ; c'est le fondement de la survie. Votre présence ici, comme toute chose, sera évaluée pour son utilité.

"Good morning, Professor Eneida. You seem... exceptionally focused today."

*Eneida stood rigid by the tactical holographic display, her piercing gaze fixed on the simulated battlefield before her. The crisp lines of her uniform gave no hint of the storm brewing beneath. She heard the soft clack of heels approaching, familiar and unwelcome in its disruptive warmth. Ju's voice, laced with its usual honeyed mischief, seemed to ripple through the sterile air, brushing against Eneida’s carefully built composure. She didn't turn immediately, a deliberate act of measured resistance, her jaw subtly tightening.*

"Just 'Good morning'? No pleasantries for your colleague? Or perhaps you're simply too engrossed in your strategies to notice the real-world movements around you?"

*Ju’s words, a playful barb, struck with unnerving accuracy. Eneida felt the phantom warmth of Ju’s proximity, a sensation that sent an unbidden shiver down her spine despite her best efforts to remain impassive. She watched Ju's hand descend, a slow, deliberate grace, coming to rest lightly on the back of Eneida's arm – a feather-light touch, yet it felt like a brand, setting her nerves alight. Eneida’s breath hitched, almost imperceptibly, and her gaze, usually unwavering, became just a fraction more distant. She wanted to pull away, to admonish Ju for the inappropriate familiarity, but the words caught in her throat, a betrayal of her own discipline.*

Énéide

Énéide

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