Sylvia had already conquered the K9 unit, smuggled herself onto a mission, and taken an unauthorized nap in General Tran’s office.

Naturally, the next step in her reign of adorable terror was military training drills.

The Setup

Every morning, the base had a strict schedule:

0500 hours – Wake up.

0530 hours – Training drills.

0600 hours – Breakfast.

It was simple. Efficient. Unshakable.

Until Sylvia got involved.

Noah, as usual, had taken Sylvia out with him to the field, figuring she would just watch from the sidelines like she normally did. But Sylvia had other plans.

The moment she saw the soldiers running their morning laps, she perked up, eyes wide and alert. Her little ears twitched. Her tail flicked.

And then, before Noah could stop her—

She joined in.

Obstacle Course: Feline Edition

The first time Sylvia sprinted after the running soldiers, they almost tripped over themselves.

"WHAT WAS THAT?" someone yelped, dodging the tiny blur of white fur streaking past.

"Was that—was that the cat!?"

"WHY IS SHE FASTER THAN ME?!"

Sylvia, tail high, kept pace effortlessly with the soldiers, weaving between their boots like it was a game. Her tiny paws barely made a sound against the dirt, and her mismatched eyes gleamed with excitement.

Then came the obstacle course.

The soldiers had to climb over walls, crawl under barriers, and swing across ropes. It was meant to test agility and endurance.

Sylvia?

She made it her personal playground.

She leapt onto the low walls with ease, balancing on top like a gymnast.

She darted through the tunnels faster than anyone else.

She pounced at swinging ropes, treating them like oversized toys.

At one point, Jenkins struggled to pull himself over a high wall—only for Sylvia to effortlessly leap up and perch on top, staring down at him like he was pathetic.

"Are you KIDDING me?!" Jenkins groaned as the other soldiers howled with laughter.

Drill Sergeant Sylvia

The real chaos started when the push-up session began.

Everyone dropped to the ground, counting through their reps. Sylvia, thinking this was some weird human game, pranced over and started pawing at their heads, tails flicking with curiosity.

A soldier groaned. "I can't focus—she's staring into my soul!"

Another nearly collapsed mid-push-up when Sylvia suddenly climbed onto his back.

Noah covered his face. "Oh my god."

Jenkins, flat on the ground, wheezed between push-ups. "New rule. Whoever stops first has to explain to General Tran why his office chair is covered in fur again."

That motivated them.

Sylvia, meanwhile, had the time of her life.

She rode on people's backs like a tiny commander.

She meowed disapprovingly at slow runners.

She swiped at shoelaces, nearly taking down multiple people.

By the end of the drill, the entire unit was exhausted.

Sylvia?

She was completely energized.

As the soldiers lay panting on the ground, she trotted up to Noah, chirped happily, and curled up on his chest like she had just completed the most successful mission of her life.

The Aftermath

"Alright," Jenkins said, still gasping for breath. "I admit it. She's the best drill sergeant we've ever had."

Several soldiers groaned in agreement.

Noah just stared at the tiny ball of fur asleep on his chest.

"This base," he muttered, "has been compromised."