The eyes of youth in a small circle, lives feelings like they had just started. All shapes and sizes of cookies, come together through whatever motivations there may be, were the second generation of sentinels for our legacy. Amongst them, a small, blue cookie stands, more unnerved than the others during that last pep talk on training. Amongst them a slender, purple figure, same eerie grin as always, oh, how the medals on the chest jingle. Weren't they there for the first ones, too? An even smaller one. The one that could be described as a wallish brute. They've been through thick and thin already, a monster fight or two, the beginnings of battle scars to plague the body forever.

A picture taken amongst the group of eight or so, right next to the temple of olds. That thing's been around longer than anyone could remember, to the point where scholarly debates on the origin have become too commonplace to allow in a debate club. However, a new topic arrives amongst the youth who study the history in photographs -- if one peers around to the back, you can see a figure in the windows of the temple. It's unknown who this face belongs to, but she stares longingly at the second sentinel force. Due to the unknown identification of this person, we have no other information to bring you.

I could not put in any details of my strict trainings due to confidentiality and all of those liability waivers, assume this is written by an outside source "who wishes to remain anonymous" if anybody asks.