The recurring thought of beating Maltor to a pulp drove me through to Sunday. I had at first been split on whether or not I actually wanted to fight him, but seeing Albert’s mental state rapidly decline over our first week caused me to make my decision very quickly.

The thought that he wanted to kill all non-Mutants rarely ever crossed my mind. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I was always around Albert recently, but the thing I hated Maltor for most was that state that he had reduced Albert to.

Albert thought that I didn’t know. He thought I didn’t notice. He would quietly cry some nights when he thought I was asleep. He would talk to himself; tell himself how much he hated everything, how he wished things could be different. Wished he could be different.

And it was all Maltor’s fault.

It was only natural for me to feel so passionate about my hatred for Maltor, right? Although I hadn’t known him nearly as long as I’d known Jay and Natasha, Albert was easily my best friend. And the war last year only proved to me how good of a person he was.

Albert had put everything on the line to not only ensure the safety of the world but the safety of us. Hell, he’d even run off spontaneously to go and save Jay from one of the most dangerous fighters the opposition had.

And he’d been through a lot, too. Namely losing nearly everyone he loved and needed.

He needed someone to be there for him, and that’s where I came in. I would be by Albert’s side for as long as I lived, and I had to make sure of it.

These thoughts disappeared as Albert shook me violently. The alarm had gone off only thirty seconds ago, but it was Sunday.

‘Get up, you lazy sod!’ Albert shouted. ‘It’s Sunday!'

'Those sentences should never go together,' I murmured groggily. ‘Shouldn’t we stay in bed for longer?’

Albert began to walk hastily towards the door of our room. ‘Then I’ll be sword-training on my own.’

I smirked as I slowly got out of bed. ‘Gimme a sec to get changed, then.’

Albert’s constant reminders to hurry spurred me to get changed as quickly as possible. It was the most excited he had been since we’d arrived.

I knew the excitement would not last long, however. Sooner or later, the realisation that he was training to fight his ex-best friend would set in once more, further damaging him.

As usual, William joined the two of us for breakfast. He, too, seemed unusually happy as he spoke to us about what the day would consist of.

‘So,’ he said after swallowing a mouthful of toast, ‘today is your first day of sword training.’

‘And I can’t wait!’ Albert said before swallowing a mouthful of toast.

‘It might be a bit more complicated than you think, so I hope you’re ready,’ William said, smirking.

‘It can’t be harder than the other things we’ve done,’ Albert replied confidently.

But Albert’s confidence seemed to waver slightly upon catching the look on William’s face. He glanced at me somewhat nervously, and I merely took a bite out of my own piece of toast in response.

‘H-How complicated will it be?’ Albert asked, now uncertain.

‘Well, it may take a while,’ William said carefully, ‘but I know you two will do it flawlessly. You learn a lot quicker than every other student I’ve taught.’

A wave of pride swept through my body. It felt strange. I rarely felt bursts of joy from my own achievements as I had mostly grown used to them being overshadowed by my sister’s, so this came as a shock to me. A welcome shock, that is.

The rest of breakfast seemed to fly by after that, and it is definitely safe to say that what William told us about sword-fighting was nothing like what Albert and I could ever have expected.

The three of us stood atop the mountain once again. Albert and I were shirtless as usual, and I was holding one of the camp’s spare swords, given to me by William. Albert, of course, was holding both of his personal swords.

William stood in front of us, the wind powerfully billowing through his hair, making him appear even more formidable than usual. His staff was grasped firmly in his hand, and for a moment I wondered whether it was he who was causing the winds.

‘Right,’ William said loudly as to be heard over the wind, ‘you’re going to have to follow what I say. I promise that I am going to tell you the absolute truth, and you have to trust me, and you also have to take me seriously.’

‘We will, sir!’ Albert shouted back.

William stared at the two of us for a brief moment before saying one of the most stupid things I have ever heard.

‘The key to sword-fighting is breathing.’

The only thing that was making any noise was the powerful wind. Glancing at Albert, I saw him staring at William open-mouthed and wide-eyed. I was usually quite good at keeping myself composed, but I was struggling to keep my face straight.

‘Now, allow me to explain,’ William continued. ‘If it becomes too much at any point, just let me know, and I can answer any and every question that you may have.’

Albert and I nodded slightly, prompting William to continue further.

‘There are thirteen ‘Breathing Techniques’ that can be used to further how well a person sword-fights. Each of these Techniques have ‘Forms’, which are, in a sense, the different ways of performing the Technique. This is much simpler than it sounds.

‘Typically, only children of a certain God can perform certain Techniques. For instance, only demigods of Poseidon can use the Water Breathing Technique. This, however, is not the case for the four Bare Techniques, which are the four that you will learn first.’

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‘Sir,’ Albert piped up, ‘what makes a Technique ‘Bare’?’

‘Good question,’ William said, smiling. ‘The other nine Techniques can all be used in combination with their namesake and therefore require a Port to be used. For example, the Fire Technique can be combined with fire upon usage. The Bare techniques can not generate their namesake, and can be learnt by a demigod of any God, and can be used without a Port.’

‘What’s a ‘Port’?’ I asked loudly.

I felt somewhat rude. It felt as though Albert and I were interrogating William, but it would have been a huge understatement to say that this new knowledge confused us.

‘I’m glad you asked,’ William said, smiling again. ‘A Port is usually defined as something that can host demigod powers. And by that, I mean that it won’t break if you do something like coat it in flames or lightning, if that makes any resemblance of sense. It used to be defined simply as something that could withstand the Breathing Techniques, but that has since changed.’

‘Wait,’ Albert said, a strange look now coating his face. ‘So, let’s say, hypothetically, if something that wasn’t a Port was forced to host demigod powers, would it break?’

‘Exactly.’

Albert and I looked at each other, and I instantly knew what he meant. That’s why his wand had snapped after his fight with Amy. He hadn’t been using magic.

The two of us had discussed that night countless times, but one of our more in-depth conversations had been about the actual final brawl with Amy. He had told me that he knew there was no chance of victory if he used magic; he simply didn’t know enough spells. Therefore, he had resorted to whatever else came to mind. His wand had spent half the fight on its last leg of life, and now we finally knew why. Wands weren’t made as Ports, as they had no reason to host demigod powers.

William looked at the two of us almost suspiciously, before deciding to let it drop.

‘Now, I’d like us to start with Poison Breathing, which I believe to be the easiest of the Bare Techniques,’ William began again. ‘It is usually taken up by demigods of Athena, but, of course, can be learned by all.’

‘How come it’s called Poison Breathing if there’s no poison involved?’ Albert asked. I could tell that he thought he was too quiet to be heard, but William responded.

‘Your guess is as good as mine. I suppose it’s something to do with neurotoxins? But I have no clue.’

William then instructed me and Albert to draw our blades, which we did with no hesitation.

‘Now, Poison Breathing has five Forms, along with its Destructive Art-’

Albert’s hand shot up. Upon being prompted by William, he asked the question that had also sprung to the front of my mind.

‘What’s a ‘Destructive Art’?’

‘Well, think of it as the sort of ultimate Form of a Technique. Each Technique has one, and they are all extremely powerful, but require a lot of energy.’

Albert nodded as though this made complete sense to him, before motioning to William that he was finished with asking questions for the time being.

‘Okay, the first of these five Forms is Parasite. It is a quick move that creates a small wound on the opponent, and is best used if multiple strikes are made in the same spot, as one is usually not enough to massively injure an opponent.

‘The breathing itself is the difficult part. Most Poison Forms require a very deep breath in, I’ll tell you that now. Parasite requires a very deep breath in, followed by a very quick breath out.’

William made Albert and I repeatedly practice breathing in this manner. And, Gods, he made sure we did it perfectly. We spent an hour and a half doing the same breathing over and over again. We did it so much that I began to worry that I would start subconsciously breathing that way.

But, sure enough, after that gruelling hour and a half, William deemed us ready to combine the sword skills with the breathing. He went down into the main camp to grab some dummies for us to train on, and whilst he was gone, Albert and I took the opportunity to converse.

‘Gods, I never thought breathing could get so complicated,’ Albert said.

‘Yeah, but don’t you think it’s a bit strange that we’re not even a little bit out of breath?’ was my response. I didn’t know how long William would be gone, so I spoke rapidly.

‘I guess that’s kinda the point,’ Albert replied thoughtfully. ‘If they’re formulated breathing techniques, it makes sense that there are no repercussions.’

I wondered for a moment if Alfonso had known any Breathing Techniques. Albert spoke with such a strange calmness that it sounded almost as though he already knew everything there was to know about the Techniques. I didn’t ask this, however, as I didn’t want to possibly bring up any unwanted memories.

‘Hey,’ Albert said quietly, not making eye contact, ‘this will be worth it, right?’

Oh no.

‘‘Course it will,’ I scoffed. ‘We’ve gotta save the world.’

Albert opened his mouth to say more, but he shut it quickly upon seeing William reappear at the top of the steps with two wooden dummies in his arms.

The dummies in question were certainly not as advanced as the Combots back at RoCity. Design-wise, I could understand why somebody might say they were similar, as the only noticeable difference was the material and lack of arms. They were similar in size and structure, but these dummies were evidently not made to fight back. Strangely, William directly addressed this, which was almost saddening.

‘I understand that these things might not be as sophisticated as the things you may have back home, but they’ll have to do,’ he said quietly as he positioned the dummies in front of us. ‘And do not fret, they won’t fight back.’

Albert and I smirked at that.

‘Remember to do the breathing technique as you perform the Form,’ William said quickly. ‘But, other than that, you may now begin.’

Other than the few pointers William had to give us, Albert and I seemed to perform Parasite flawlessly. Even William seemed shocked by just how quickly we learnt it.

The only real problem he had was how Albert held his sword. He insisted that Albert shouldn’t hold it backwards, and even gave a list of reasons as to why that was inferior to holding it normally. Of course, Albert followed his orders, but he didn’t seem too happy with it.

On the other hand, I wasn’t focusing on how quickly we learnt, but rather how quickly we moved. Of course, the move was supposed to be a few quick strikes, but William pushed the two of us to our absolute limit.

Strangely, I did not feel worn out at all. Albert must have been right. The Techniques must have been precisely made to not fatigue their user.

Speaking of Albert, it shocked me how fast he could move. No matter what William told me about my speed, nothing would change the fact that Albert was much faster than I ever would be.

He moved inexplicably fast. Multiple times throughout that day, I wondered just how fast he would move in an actual fight. This was just training. I almost felt sorry for Maltor.

Of course, I already knew that Albert was extraordinarily fast. Other than Maltor, I liked to believe that I was the only person alive who knew just how fast he truly was. I had been the only other person on the hill that night, after all. I had seen him fight Amy, and it had been scary to even watch.

Albert almost served as a source of motivation for me. Throughout the day, I found myself trying to be faster than him. I was pushing myself further than I thought I could go, hoping that, just once, I could swing my sword faster than he could.

At around five that evening, William challenged us to perfect Parasite by the end of the day. I knew that the challenge was impossible, but it still helped push me to perform better.

And that’s why we got to our room at ten o’clock at night. It had been the most we’d ever trained in a single day so far, but I certainly did not mind. And, judging by the way he walked back to our room, Albert didn’t, either.

‘If Poison Breathing was that much fun,’ he said, practically bouncing off the walls, as we re-entered our room, ‘imagine how fun the Fire Breathing he mentioned is gonna be!’

I opened my mouth, about to say ‘Maltor doesn’t know how much trouble he’s in’, before deciding it would be best not to mention Maltor in front of Albert, at least for the time being.

Instead, I opted for, ‘We’re gonna be unstoppable by the end of this.’

Albert was buzzing until he got into bed. He didn’t stop talking about how excited he was until his head hit the pillow. When it did, he was out like a light.

Sighing to myself, I climbed into my own bed and lay in silence for a few moments, thinking.

We had to do it, right? Somebody had to save the world. To stop people from becoming victims, somebody had to step in and be a victim themselves. We just had to push through.