Dinner had been good, nothing too fancy, but it wasn't slop like he'd expected. He had commented on it to Alice and she'd responded with "food being important for morale" or something.

After dinner they'd found themselves in class once again with tests being handed out. Glancing over the material, he felt gratitude towards Seaman Hunt since he probably would've missed a large portion of the exam without that tip.

Test finished and turned in, a sailor took a few minutes to explain the mechanics of orientation. Michael summarized the speech in a few bullet points:

* Pass a cumulative test each day

* Stay ahead of the physical training curve

* Meet the approval of their close combat trainers

If they failed any of these, they'd be out of orientation. The waitlist was already hundreds of people long and growing. Thus, the military had no desire to spend energy on anyone but the best.

After that, they were guided to their class' bunk rooms. The rooms were large, filled with dozens of tiny metal bunk beds. They were assigned bunks and one of the soldiers in Michael's class wound up being his bunk mate. Sometime during the day, their personal items had made it to their bunks, along with a couple of physical training (PT) outfits.

"Do you want the top or bottom bunk?" Michael asked his bunk mate.

The soldier glanced at him. "Bottom of course."

Michael nodded and introduced himself. "I'm Michael Mora."

The soldier looked him up and down and gave him a pitying look, "Lieutenant Strong, looks like sparring was a pleasant experience."

Michael laughed. "Yeah, I'm just glad Seaman Hunt didn't break me."

The LT shook his head, packing away his clothing. "Having all these civilians around feels strange." He looked up at Michael. "Any idea what their plans are for you guys?"

Michael thought about it, then shrugged. "Yeah I was surprised to see so many military personnel in class as well. They haven't told us much of anything."

Strong gave him a funny look. "It's mostly military for now, you need a referral to get in." The LT finished packing away his stuff. "So you just know what they said after the test earlier?"

Michael nodded. "Yep."

Strong threw a towel over his shoulder. "Well, good luck tomorrow then." He turned to leave. "Have you killed any monsters yet?"

Memories of the week after the visions flashed through his head and made him shudder. He could still taste the blood of the goblin he bit to death. "A-" He thought of Alice punting a shrieking goblin off of him. "-few."

Strong turned back. "What'd you use? Shotgun?"

"Knives mostly. We used a pair of hatchets on the treant."

The soldier shook his head. "Maybe you won't need that luck." With that he walked off, conversation finished.

Michael resumed putting away his belongings, having forgotten about them while chatting. A few minutes later he finished and went to the showers.

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They had been given the remainder of the night off and had free time until lights out so he figured he'd go see what Alice was up to. He found her in a lounge area surrounded by a group of girls. He took one look at them, shook his head and walked off.

He had almost made it to safety when he heard Alice call out. "Hey Michael, get over here."

Michael said his prayers and walked back to the group with a smile on his face. "Hey Alice, how's it going?"

He softened his eyes and looked at the different people sitting around Alice. When he looked back at Alice, she'd put her legs down, making space for him in the circle. Michael mentally dug his grave and even chiseled his name into his tombstone.

Here lies Michael Mora - He didn't watch his words close enough.

Okay, maybe he was being a bit melodramatic but meeting half a dozen people was a bit intimidating. With a smile plastered on his face, he sat down next to Alice.

"So yeah, this is Michael, the guy I've been killing monsters with the past couple weeks."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Dude, did you really disembowel a goblin while it was on top of you?" The girl sitting across from him leaned in.

Michael's eyes went wide. He'd ruined his favorite outfit with that and probably would've contracted a bloodborne illness if it hadn't been for Ms. Rockford. He looked over at Alice who gave him an innocent look.

"Yeah?"

The girl gave him a broad smile. "What was it like? Bathing in the blood of your enemies, that is."

Michael cocked his head. "Gross?"

The girl nodded while leaning back in her seat. "Makes sense."

Alice suppressed a grin. "That's Jenna by the way. She was just about to graduate high school."

Michael nodded. Alice proceeded to introduce the rest of the circle. Unfortunately, Michael promptly forgot all their names. In his defense, he had been put off balance from Jenna's questions.

The group mostly chatted about their experiences leading them to the Monster Orientation. Jenna had helped a fireteam and earned a referral that way, while the others similarly had stories like that. Michael thought back on it, realizing they hadn't done anything special to get their referral.

Alice leaned over and whispered. "Quota I bet."

By the time they were finished telling their tales, Michael was impressed; they were phenomenal talents. One of them was a MMA (mixed martial arts) fighter, another could fling fireballs- Jenna, of course-, while the others were exceptional in their own way. He briefly found himself comparing him to them but squashed that line of thought. Nobody digs an inferiority complex.

All the same, they were a reminder of how much he could grow, and how he could reach a higher peak. He covertly studied the MMA fighter, paying special attention to how she was using her mana. It banded together alongside her muscles and Michael realized that she didn't diffuse the mana through her muscles but instead formed fibers alongside her own.

He closed his eyes, feeling the mana inside his body. It was like a diffuse cloud, filling his body. He prodded at it, and like a cloud, it flowed around his touch. A bead of sweat formed on his brow as he imagined a container for the mist, once he had it contained he began to compress it, forming a thread of mana which he extruded along- side the muscles of his forearm.

When he had finished his handiwork, he opened his eyes to find everyone in the circle staring at him. He put on a sheepish grin.

"What were you doing Michael?" Alice asked.

"Trying to use my mana more like she is." Michael pointed at the MMA fighter.

She gave him a surprised look. "How'd you figure out how I'm reinforcing my body?"

"Uh, I sort of just looked at your arm." He flexed his left arm and felt an explosion of pain from the mana fiber.

He heard a snap and looked down at his arm. His eyes went wide as the pain struck, the bones in his forearm having snapped. Blood spurted from the wound, landing in Alice's lap. Shrieking insued while Alice lunged forward, clamping her hand over the points where blood exitted his body.

The MMA fighter was next to him in an instant. "Idiot. Dissolve the fiber!"

Michael choked on the pain, turning his thoughts inwards towards his mana. He found the fiber in the mess of his arm and imagined the mana fiber fraying and falling apart. A second later it dissolved and he opened his eyes. Jenna stared at the wound, totally shocked.

"Whoops." Michael said and fainted just as his bunkmate arrived with a first aid kit.

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He woke up a minute later, his right cheek on fire and his arm bandaged. A medic had arrived and was injecting him with a painkiller. He had a stupid smile on his face a moment later, injury forgotten. The next couple hours were a blur as he was admitted to the base's hospital and taken in for surgery.

He found himself lying in a hospital bed a couple hours later. To his surprise he wasn't alone and found Alice sitting beside his bed. He sat up, his face flushing.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Well that was smooth. Made a great impression on my new friends."

Michael summoned his gravestone and amended his epitaph:

Here lies Michael Mora - shattered his left arm upon meeting Alice's friends.

"Legendary right?" Michael asked.

"Dude, you sprayed blood on me." Her tone was not amused. "I'll go grab the doctor." She stepped into the hallway.

A doctor entered a couple minutes later.

She stared Michael down. "Three weeks ago, you probably would've lost that arm." She shook her head. "Lucky for you, mana is incredible. Don't do what you did again."

Michael nodded his head with gusto.

"As is though, you're good to go. Have fun cleaning up your mess." The doctor handed him a folder filled with the summary of his visit and then left the room.

He stood up, wobbled a bit, then got dressed. He felt gratitude towards whoever had brought him a clean outfit, guessing that his clothes had been covered in blood. He stepped outside his room and found Alice waiting for him. As they walked back to the barracks, Michael explained what he'd done to hurt himself. She listened but mostly told him how dumb that had been.

When they arrived in the lounge, Michael found a pile of cleaning supplies with instructions on top. It gave him some tips on how to get the blood out of the carpet but more importantly told him that if any blood was still there in the morning, he'd be kicked out of orientation.

Alice patted his shoulder and left him to it. He scrubbed and scrubbed but an hour later, the blood still clung to the carpet and seat cushions. Another hour passed and he'd gotten it out of the carpet. Still, the blood remained on the sofa he'd sat on earlier. He'd never tell Alice this, but he was immensely glad that much of the blood had landed on her instead of the cushion.

It wasn't until the third hour passed that Michael had the thought to try to push mana into the blood stain. To his surprise, the blood soaked up the mana like a sponge. He pushed and pulled at the stain. Slowly, he felt it loosen and finally peel away from the fibers of the couch.

When he scrubbed at the mana soaked stain, it disappeared. He repeated this process with each stain until he couldn't find a single trace of his blood. He breathed a sigh of relief and trudged to his bunk, a smile on his face. He'd traveled hundreds of miles today, been beaten and broken, but at the end of the day he was still whole. He climbed into his bunk and collapsed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.