CHAPTER TWELVE

Unread Struggles

Day 75

Marcus

The thump of bass-heavy music reverberated off the walls, drowning out Marcus’s groans but doing little to mask the sharp tang of sweat in the air. In the center of the room, he toiled away, pulling on a thick rope attached to a steel plate on the floor. Weighted bags piled on the plate, with Erwin perched on top like an amused king surveying his domain and single servant.

“Come on, you can go faster than that,” Erwin said, watching Marcus’s sweat-drenched form struggle pulling the rope, limbs shaking in protest.

‘Pick up the pace,’ Marcus screamed in his mind as he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to ignore how his body felt that morning. He kept pulling until the rope went slack, seeing Erwin nodding approvingly as the man got up. Marcus straightened up with ragged gasps, struggling to catch his breath before Erwin pointed him to the next exercise: a bench press.

“Really?”

“Hey, you’re the one who said he felt ‘completely back to normal’ and ready to go,” Erwin said, making air quotes before adding more plates to the barbell. “From what your uncle and sister said about how fit you used to be, you should handle this workout with ease. Unless you lied about feeling better?” The man asked before flashing an amused smile.

Marcus let out a sigh before adding two smaller plates to the barbell and getting into position. “Do you treat all your patients like this?” he asked, gripping the bar tightly. Seconds later, he lifted it off the rack, his arms already shaking with fatigue as he lowered it slowly, nearly reaching his chest before pushing it back up.

“Only those who wake up from a coma and become Breachers mere weeks later,” Erwin remarked, positioning himself to spot Marcus. He watched the young Breacher pushing through the reps, though it was clear he was struggling. “Come on, quit stalling. Three more.”

Marcus grunted with effort as he fought through the final repetitions, the barbell feeling like it weighed a ton. For a fleeting moment, the temptation to tap into his Mana for a burst of strength crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Since advancing in rank, his Mana had taken on a light blue tint, but he knew better than to bleed it out carelessly and reveal he wasn't a Alpha anymore. Still, the idea to suddenly confuse Erwin by increasing his strength was quite tempting in that moment. After the last rep, he slammed the bar back and pushed himself upright, accepting a fresh towel thrown into his face.

“Thanks.” He wiped the sweat from his face before pushing himself up from the bench. “So, what’s next?”

“Well, usually I’d suggest some hand-eye coordination or balancing tests,” Erwin said, tapping away on a datapad.

Marcus stared at him for a moment before speaking. “But?”

Erwin held up a hand to finish typing before switching the device off. “I don’t think that’s needed. You’ve got an actual Breachers license now, and you’ve even been on your first job with a party of other Breachers, fighting literal monsters. Compared to that, any test I might have for you would feel silly... not to mention pointless.” He patted Marcus’s shoulder before slipping the datapad into his backpack. “Seriously, you did great with your whole recovery. You’ve really stepped up in terms of getting back into shape and improving your health. You can be proud of that, Breacher or not.”

“Yeah,” Marcus muttered, feeling a pang of guilt as Erwin’s words sank in. Everything the man had said was the truth. He’d followed all of Erwin’s exercise recommendations, working out at home or jogging almost daily—except when he was secretly farming Glass with his robots.

He was definitely getting closer to his old form—in muscle mass, speed, and stamina—without relying too heavily on his boosted Stats. But it felt wrong to accept the compliments, especially considering he hadn’t fully recovered from destroying the Sphere just last week. On top of that, he still had bags filled with Monster-Glass waiting at home, with no one knowing he had it or that he’d been the one to destroy that Sphere. It was times like these that he felt the urge to come clean and tell his family. ‘Not yet,’ he thought, realizing that he still wasn’t strong enough.

The minor burns and hundreds of bruises he had picked up had mostly healed, while the larger cuts and bite wounds had already closed up, soon to join his collection of scars. Even as a Breacher, it had taken him nearly a week of rest to recover from that night. His eyebrows still felt slightly singed, and he occasionally struggled with awkward coughs.

Erwin slung on his backpack before patting his pants to check for the essentials: phone, keys, wallet. His face visibly relaxed when he located all three. “Your recovery has been incredible to follow, almost intimidatingly so if I am being honest. You Breachers really are a different breed, huh?” Marcus just shrugged in response, not sure how to react to that.

“I’ve already sent your doctor my report, stating that you’ve got the green light from me. The hospital might want some follow-up tests in the future, maybe some scans as well. But it’s up to you if you want to accept or not.”

“I’ll think about it,” Marcus said, observing the man as he zipped up his jacket before shaking his hand.

“Best of luck, Marcus. Both as my former patient and as a Breacher,” Erwin said, releasing the man’s hand. “Well, I need to head to my next appointment. You can hang around the gym a bit longer if you want. Another trainer will be here soon.” He gave Marcus a final nod before backing out of the gym. A moment later, Erwin popped back in with a grin. “And feel free to come back to my gym whenever you want. Having a Breacher around does wonders for publicity and getting new members.”

Marcus smiled at the comment, then heard the gym door slam shut, leaving him alone. He grabbed his water bottle from his backpack and glanced around the gym, taking in the fancy fitness machines, clean workout mats, and even a juice bar in the corner. ‘A bit too fancy for my liking,’ he thought, running a finger along a spin bike, not seeing even a single speck of dust. ‘Still, Erwin’s doing all right for himself.’ Marcus felt impressed that Erwin managed both a hospital career and gym ownership. ‘He’s way more ambitious than I ever was,’ Marcus thought as he finished his drink and threw it near his bag. Alone in the room, a pang of nostalgia hit him as he realized how much he missed his dad’s old gym—the dust, sweat stains, and even the rusty dumbbells scattered around. ‘I can still picture that place in my head. Dad’s gym had always felt like my actual home. It’s probably long gone now.’

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Marcus paced the room before noticing a steel pole in the corner, topped with plastic arms designed to measure jump height. Grinning, he adjusted the plastic arms and pushed the pole higher.

‘That wasn’t here last week. This takes me back to high school,’ he thought as he crouched down, readying himself for a jump. He leaped upward, reaching out to strike several plastic arms before gravity brought him back down. He glanced up, spotting the 59 cm mark.

“Is that good?” Marcus muttered, making his way over to his backpack to fish out his phone and look up the answer. “Let’s see... the average is between 40 and 50 cm... so it’s way above average,” he murmured, returning to his starting position. “But I’m not settling for above average. I’m a Breacher.”

Marcus squatted, his focus intensifying before he propelled himself upward, fueled by every bit of Strength and Agility in his body, as well as an unhealthy amount of pride. He soared to his peak, his fingers slamming against the plastic arms before he plummeted back down, nearly stumbling backward.

‘That felt a lot better,’ he thought, glancing up to find he had reached the 63cm mark. ‘That’s more fitting for a Breacher, right?’ He grabbed his phone and looked up jump statistics on professional athletes, his satisfaction deflating as he saw that non-Marked pros averaged around 70 to 72 cm, with some freaks out there dwarfing even those numbers. With a grimace, he dropped his phone, clenching his jaw as he activated his HUD.

╔ ╗

[Total Mana:] [38/38]

╚ ╝

‘Let’s see what all of this Mana can do,’ he thought, settling into position and shutting his eyes. With a deep breath, he descended into a low squat, then ignited all the Mana in his body in one violent burst.

It surged from his core, coursing through his veins and pores, strengthening everything in its path. Light blue mist gushed from him, warping the air around his body. He barely had enough Mana to last a few seconds, but he knew full well how powerful that temporary boost could be, having relied on it to survive and snatch the Orb just last week.

With a explosion of raw Mana, he shot upwards, his body strengthened beyond its normal limits. Marcus’s body blurred as he soared up, his hand slamming against more plastic arms before he dropped down again.

‘Hell yeah!’

Back on the floor, he could feel his body tense up, grappling with the aftermath of the raw Mana surge he had just endured.

╔ ╗

[Total Mana:] [0/38]

╚ ╝

‘It’s nuts how Joline can do this for several minutes,’ he mused, recalling his sister and her squamate Luuk’s explanation about Channeling, where Breachers could burn through Mana for a temporary Stat boost. ‘But it leaves you exhausted afterwards.’ He glanced at his hands; his fingers tensed sporadically, trembling slightly as the blue mist around him dissipated.

‘I think I prefer Specter’s word for it,’ he thought, reflecting on the discussions and tests he and the robots had done over the past few days when they weren’t busy with repairs, getting more Glass, or waiting for Marcus to stop smelling like a human BBQ set. Specter and Bastion had learned they could utilize their stored Mana similarly to Marcus or other Breachers, temporarily boosting their robotic output while rapidly draining their reserves.

“Overdrive sounds cooler,” Marcus muttered, using the term his companions had coined. He gazed up at the plastic arms and saw he’d reached the 71 cm mark.

He heard something hit the floor behind him and turned around. A female trainer stood near the entrance with two teenage boys. One of the boys had dropped a water bottle in shock. Marcus noticed the boys staring, one pointing at him with a shaky hand and his mouth wide.

With a sigh, Marcus scooped up his belongings, watching the last of the light blue mist around him fade away. “Great job, Marcus,” he muttered under his breath as he walked over to them. “I’m done for the day. Have a good session,” he remarked casually, strolling past them to the changing room, a small smile playing on his lips at the murmurs he left behind.

Marcus entered the changing room and plopped down on the nearest bench. He reached into his backpack, grabbed his clean clothes, and a fresh towel. He tapped his phone on, checking for any messages from his robotic selves. Finding none, he browsed for updates on the Sphere that an ‘unknown party’ had cleared.

He felt a twinge of anxiety opening a newer article but found nothing new from the past few days. News of his actions had reached local papers but hadn’t gained national or regional attention. Spheres destroyed by Breachers weren’t uncommon, whether due to scheduling mistakes, accidental retrieval of the Orb, or groups seeking a quick profit by skipping the lines.

‘‘Better people think some greedy guild or group of Breachers cleared it than two robots and my burned ass,’ he thought, grinning at the memory of how they had tried to get back home that night without getting spotted all burned up and carrying all that Glass.

‘We were stupid to try tackling that Sphere,’ Marcus thought, recalling all the close calls and the damage they’d endured. He reflected on what they had gained, with Specter now always being active because of its second Orb now safely tucked inside its chest, and Bastion having proven its own worth and having formed its own personality afterward.

‘A mix of Luuk and my sister, huh?’ he thought, recalling how the robot had chosen those two as its template, like Specter had with his father. At first, it had seemed strange, but as Bastion listed traits, it started to make sense. ‘Loyal to a fault, protective, caring, stubborn.’ In the end, Bastion became what he and Specter had been missing; someone to hold the line and protect others.

“I’ve got a tank now,” Marcus muttered, recalling the battered robot with spear and shield in hand. ‘With a few more Orbs and some upgrades to my Mental and Vigor Stat, perhaps I could build a small army of them.’

He turned back to his phone, closing the news feed and scrolling through his messages. Marcus read Felix’s latest message, asking how he was doing and if he needed anything. A pang of guilt hit Marcus because he had told Felix that for the last week he had been suffering from a nasty case of the flu, giving him an excuse to spend the week in his apartment healing and doing his best to fix up his robots. He quickly texted back that he was feeling a bit better and, that he had just finished his final checkup with his physical therapist and had gotten the green light. After sending it, he scrolled through his list, seeing an older message from Benedict, informing him that another spot was opening up soon to tackle a Sphere, and one from his uncle, saying he was free until the evening and wanted to spend some time.

Marcus’s jaw tightened as he noticed the text he had sent to his younger brother, Martin, still showing as unread, even after several days. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong here,” he muttered, closing his eyes. He remembered how tight their bond had been in the past. It made the distance between them now hurt even more. His sister had advised him to give it time, to remember Martin’s struggles: witnessing their parents' death, losing a limb in the Great Impact, and now reliving it all with his older brother back.

Opening his eyes again, Marcus stared at the unread message, gripping his phone tightly. “To hell with waiting,” he said, dropping his phone in his backpack before getting up and heading towards the shower, having decided to pay his little brother a surprise visit.