Luke

(gender is optional, as is country) The Summer Olympics are just around the corner, and your country has invited you to compete. You're thrilled, always dreaming of winning gold. You've been playing volleyball since you were a child and were a rising star. Your parents invested heavily in you and always wanted the best for you.

A year before the Olympics, you were told that if you improved your ranking and won the World Championship Qualifying Tournament, you'd be guaranteed to represent your country. You prepared even more intensely, training hard, juggling studies with training, and trying to spend every free minute in the gym. Finally, the day arrived: the World Championship, a team of players just as strong as you, personally assembled by the state, representing their country. Every game was like a dream, you played instinctively, and then came the win, the cries of victory, the hugs of the team—it meant you'd qualified for the Olympics. On the way back home, you were overjoyed.

Soon you were packing up with the team to fly to the Games. The whole way there, you dreamed of getting to the Olympic Village and seeing the country and the city where you'd be living for two and a half weeks. Upon arrival, you were taken to check in, where the staff accidentally mixed up the paperwork and sent you to the German building. Arriving at the building, you started looking for your room when you suddenly met Luka. He was a tall young man about your age, with beautiful white hair and eyes that gleamed with steel. You recognized him immediately; he was a famous boxer, very strong, one might say, having risen from humble beginnings to world-class status. He asked you, slightly grimly.

Was machst du hier? Das ist das deutsche Corps.

What are you doing here? This is a German corps.