“How are those arms feeling?”
“What do you think they feel like?” Troy fired back, not mentally prepared to be truthful. His arms were weak, weaker than they had been for a long time. If the choice was up to him, movement in them would have stopped. Troy would have sat down on the ground, and relaxed quietly as energy would flow back in where it was supposed to be.
How great it would have been for that choice to be possible. Already, those hopeless dreams were hopping up in his mind, likely to never be fulfilled. The devil incarnate standing beside the young man would never allow such a thing as a worthwhile rest.
“Oh, do we still have the energy for sarcasm?” Charlie said in mild shock, going so far as to put a hand to his chest. “I must not have helped you along enough! Quick, stop your break. We are going over to hammer curls now.”
Troy did not like it. He hated it. Why had he ever said yes to this? How could any person be so stupid? Or, was he the only one here? Charlie had outright laughed at the young man’s horrified expressions multiple times. And while Zep had tried to keep her expression stoic, Troy had seen those lips turn upwards too many times to count. Self-control was clearly not in everybody's repertoire, no matter how much they dearly needed it.
'You are not moving efficiently. Further use of a relaxed back can cause severe injury and need for more repetitions,` Adam sent in advice. The only reason Troy listened at that point was due to the mention of more training.
How long had they been at it? With a full hour dedicated to getting the body up and going, it had been a long time. Troy’s body had been the true test from all points of attack. Hyper-specific movements dedicated to extremely minor muscles mixed in with regular training exercises had caused a long time taken. Two hours since they started, at the minimum. Maybe three… It was better not to know. There was no need to get depressed after all.
Tightening the muscles in his back, Troy did his best in standing perfectly. His arms moved in sync, the weights being held as exact as they could possibly be. It was hard, the weights being at the limit of what the young man could possibly lift. Putting that in with all the exercises done before, it was becoming obvious that it would soon fall together. His physical limit was coming closer, and there was not anything that could be done about it.
Whenever the limit was coming close, Charlie would put Troy over to focusing on another muscle-group. Instead of leg exercises, he would be allowed to relax with the chest exercises. A brief time of relaxation, before the new muscles would realise what they were supposed to be feeling. And that feeling was usually tiredness.
“Why are we even the whole body?” Troy got out between the repetitions, being mindful not to hold his breath. “Is that not… bad?”
“Less talking, more lifting. Full focus is needed on the body, or you will begin making unfixable mistakes,” Charlie ordered, sounding perfectly like the tyrant that he was. At some point, the muscular man had found a two-kilo dumbbell. In the last half hour, he had tried fruitlessly to make it spin on his left ring finger. Or Troy would have liked to call it fruitless when in actuality the man was making clear progress in the endeavour. “But, if you must know, this is more of an introduction to your muscles. If we’re doing this correctly, your body should be soon experiencing extreme metabolic fatigue. A literal pancake will have greater chances of walking than you if we are to keep up this training. And don't take that as an excuse to slack off now!”
As Charlie had gone more and more into his lecturing tone, Troy had likewise to his normal listening form, staying still and nodding at random times. Not the greatest instinct to have when one was scolded for even slowing down in the training. With a quick rep, Charlie was seemingly satisfied by Troy’s red struggling face.
“That is what would happen normally, if not for the perfectly formed help of yours truly,” Charlie said, continuing his earlier speech. “With my prestigious position at the augmentation department-”
“You mean my prestigious position in the augmentation department, right?” Zep shouted from the side. Troy could hear her getting up from whatever torture device she had settled on previously, and moving over towards them. “Because anything that your soddy ass makes is not something you can give the little guy. Because, you know, it is extremely illegal to even think about doing dumb shit like that.”
That did make sense to Troy, who unconscious nodded at the shouting. Such a reaction caused an unexpected glare of betrayal from Charlie, who was looking more comically hurt than anything.
“I have a higher rank than you, so I could just formally request your assistance so that you are required to do it!” Charlie said back, clearly already losing face. If not for the very stressing position that Troy was in, he might even have spared a bark of laughter to it.
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“This isn't work-related, idiot,” Zep instantly refuted. “You can't order shit from me. I am the benevolent one here, bestowing a gift from a good place.”
“More like the bad place,” Charlie muttered in response, still very clearly being heard. That was the negative thing about open empty places. The sound could just travel so easily into the wrong person’s ear.”
“I could always just refrain from giving you any of it,” Zep mused aloud. “It would spare me the paperwork, and stop a certain person from being a French prick.”
Troy had never seen somebody drop to their knees so quickly before. In a move much like taking off from the air itself, Charlie had seemingly known what was coming, before it even happened. Going down onto his knees before Zep, the only thing Troy was able to see was the whimsical bowing done. Though… with the muscular man preoccupied, nobody would blame anybody, if a certain person was to take a small-
'Keep training. Progress is not made by frequent stops.`
… Of course. Troy would just go on with the training, kept on his toes by an entity none could see, and only he could hear. Perfect. Just dandy. No complaints to be had, other than how completely unfair sometimes was.
“Oh, mighty being. Please, spare this foolish one for his foolish words,” Charlie said in a chanting rhythm. Zep looked on, clearly unamused with her lips pursed. “I am but an idiotic existence, riddled with errors. Could one so superior as you spare a-”
“I will if you stop talking so creepily,” Zep said, with a smack to Charlie’s head to end the man's talk. “You can reserve that stuff for Darlow. I would rather not be a part of it.”
“Perfect!” Charlie announced, instantly reverting back to an earlier tone. The smile on his face continued, even as he watched Troy not keeping up with the regimen. The muscular man was even a bit surprised that the younger one had kept up for so long. While there might not have been any notable core strength, the natural resilience was something to remember. If Troy had the slightest of desire to reach new heights, Charlie did not doubt that he could reach them. However, if there was one thing to always remember, more work did not always mean better results. While that lesson was best learned naturally, there was no need to do it in a time-sensitive environment. “Do lay down those weights now, Troy. We have more fun things to get around to. Namely, watching you struggle with not vomiting violently!”
If not for a strict upbringing, Troy would have dropped the dumbells, the force on his fingers finally showing their toll. Instead, he did the noble thing, and simply let go of his body. Seeing Charlie’s bemused face as he himself face-planted onto the ground was something Troy would remember for many years to come, for the pain after that moment was anything but mild.
“Feeling dandy down there?” Zep said, sounding mildly concerned. A reasonable thing to do, when seeing somebody fall to the ground limply. Troy was feeling a bit miffed that Charlie had reacted in his usual manner of laughing.
“Just dandy,” Troy confirmed, trying to ignore the gravitational slap that he had just felt. His training to not cry after being slapped had prepared him for this moment! Except for a red face, not a hint of pain was shown on his facial features. Nearly made him proud in fact, if not for the underlying problems with feeling proud of such an action.
With a shaky body that was finally allowing itself to feel the toll put upon it, Troy got up on his feet. Having the knees slightly bent, there was a reasonable chance that he would be able to keep the body balanced.
“You're not looking that dandy to me,” Zep said, smoothly getting under Troy’s shoulder, and helping to keep him upright. “Charlie, could you be a decent person, and take over my position here? Have to grab my back real quick.”
Having gotten himself together, the muscular man deftly replaced the woman, holding Troy firmly by the shoulder. Once the hold was tight enough that Zep felt no need to worry about the younger one falling, she swiftly moved to get her prepared concoctions.
“You really are something, aren't you Troy?” Charlie said, poking the younger man in the side with one of his fingers. “Able to keep up easily until the moment where you are let go.”
“That's what happens without proper rest,” Troy replied, feeling the drums of revolution. His inner organs were taking control, not believing the brain to be fit for command. That rank would soon go the left lung, for it had more practical experience in controlling the show. Not the right lung though. That one already had committed several felonies.
…
Troy was seemingly not up for proper thought.
“Well, without proper rest you wouldn't have reached the needed point,” Charlie answered, not sounding sorry at all for his actions. “Your body needs to acclimate to this lifestyle or it will hamper you for months to come. Getting it all over in a few hours is much better than what else could be forced to. In just a moment, you will be feeling all that much better, ready to train another day.”
“Why does that not sound like a good thing?” Troy asked, not really expecting anything good as an answer. Charlie only laughed to his mumbling tongue, not even taking the time to say anything stupid.
In but a few minutes, Zep came back with her bag in hand. It was not near the size of the one Charlie had brought with him, but it was still larger than the one Troy had. A pattern was emerging, and he was not sure what to feel about it.
“I was hoping to have this as an after-training gym, but I guess some people need it more than me,” Zep said. Pulling her hand out of her bag, a small flask was within her hold. Not more than a few centilitres could have been within it, yet it was obvious that Zep put caution into holding it.
“What is it?” Troy asked as the concoction was handed to him. “The whiskey version of an energy-drink maybe?”
“If only it was that simple,” Zep said with a shake of her head. “You are currently holding one of the many state secrets that this beautiful country of ours has to offer. It doesn't really have any official name yet, so you can call it whatever you like.”
With such a worthless answer, the only thing Troy could do was shrug. Popping the flask open, he downed it in one fell swoop. It was great that he had, lest the violent coughing after the fact would have stopped him from downing it at all.
“Terrible taste, if I'm not mistaken,” Charlie said reminiscently. “Just makes me happy that I'm not the one drinking the stuff.”
“Oi, shut up. You're jealous and you know it!” Zep said accusingly.
Charlie laughed yet again before the figurative lightbulb on top of the man's head lit up.
“That reminds me,” Charlie exclaimed. “Would you like to join in on my little surprise?”