3 weeks later
6:30 AM: Morning Jog
“I just realized…. we never went to any of the casinos while we were in Vegas…. Such a waste.” Shane lamented before he took a sip of coffee from his mug as he sat on the back of a speeding Jeep in the middle of the desert.
“Hey, Clay! Show me around Circus Circus sometime!” Shane yelled at Clay, who was sprinting as fast as he could in front of the Jeep.
“Don’t you think this is going a bit too far?” Ophelia asks Shane as she sits across from him on the back of the Jeep. Her voice raised due to the heavy wind.
“No Phil, perhaps I’m not going far enough,” Shane answers before once again taking a sip from his mug.
“I have not detected any frequency from the other lords. We need to use this time to prepare Clay for the tough road ahead.”
“But why is this necessary? I mean, doesn’t he have super strength?” Ophelia questions Shane.
“Already growing a soft spot for him? That was fast Phil.” Shane comments.
“A-answer my question, damn it.” Ophelia snaps at Shane.
“He can’t rely on the…. Gifts that his Lord gave him. We need- He needs to get his body ready for the battles to come.” Shane grimly states. The smile on his face contradicted his foreboding words.
“HEY ASSHOLE! DON’T RUN OUTTA GAS BEFORE ME!” The driver with a thick Southern American accent yells at Clay while waving a pistol in his right hand.
…. give me a goddamn break! Clay agonizes in his mind, sweat covering his entire body, making his clothes nothing more than glorified towels.
Before Clay’s legs give out on him, he hears a loud thunderous bang and passes by a bullet hole on his left.
“DID I TELL YA TO STOP RUNNIN'?! NEXT ONE’S GOING INTO YA BACK! JUST SO I KNOW THAT YOU CAN REALLY TAKE A BULLET.” The driver threatened.
… sadistic son of a bitch! This would almost be funny if it wasn’t my ass on the line here…. Why-
“-did you pick this guy to be his PT guy?” Ophelia asked Shane.
“Who? Dixon? He’s really a nice guy, just…. dedicated to the job.” Shane explains in his usual vague fashion.
“Right, Dixon?” Shane asks the driver while he knocks on the back window.
“Right boss! You’re getting what ya paid for. And with what ya’ve paid me, you’re gettin' the best.” Dixon answers with a white, toothy grin and a cheesy, enthusiastic thumbs up.
“And how much did you pay him?” Ophelia inquires, to which Shane gives his usual response, “Who knows?”
As Clay kept running on fumes, a crowd of flies began to swarm around his head.
Damn it, are you making fun of me? I’m not dead yet….. just about though.
9:30 AM: Breakfast
After a few hours of running, all Clay could do was lay his head down on the white plastic table, his head right next to his breakfast while flies continued to swarm around him.
“Ye g’nah et any uf thaz?” Ophelia asked Clay, sitting across the table from him while shoving down her Omelet.
“Yeah… just give me a minute…. Or a few,” Clay grumbled, his exhaustion overtaking his hunger.
“What about the flies-?”
“GO AWAY!” Clay commanded the flies, which dispersed immediately after being yelled at by him.
“Damn, you’re getting better at that,” Ophelia states as she hovers her fork over Clay’s plastic dish.
“Yeah, not sure how I feel about that…. How’s your leg? Clay asked Ophelia.
“It’s just about healed up. Not enough to go on a morning run though.” Ophelia joked.
“….. Well, aren’t you lucky.” Clay seethed as he pulled his dish closer to him.
“Yeah but starting today…. I’m your training partner.” Ophelia tells Clay, her face visibly showing disappointment with Clay claiming his food, even though he still hadn’t taken a single bite.
“Wait, why?” Clay asked Ophelia, finally lifting his head off the table to look at her.
“Because she needs to keep up her strength just as much as you need to gain yours.” Shane suddenly explains, taking his seat at the end of the table.
“…. Not sure if she needs any help with that.” Clay snarks as he looks at Ophelia’s empty plate.
“What?” Ophelia asks, perplexed.
“That’s not what I mean….” Shane states.
“Whatever, I’m getting seconds.” Ophelia declares as she pushes her chair back and carefully stands up.
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“Don’t you mean fourths? Or fifths?” Shane once again snarks at Ophelia.
“S-shut up! Can you blame me? We got plenty of food. If they are gonna let it go to waste, why should I?” Ophelia defensively proclaimed, pointing at Clay and the other two tables packed with hired help scattered around the makeshift camp of RVs that Shane had set up after leaving Las Vegas.
Ophelia turned and walked toward the food trailer. Shane leaned over, a bit of sunny-side-up egg dangled from his fork, and asked Clay "So, how are you holding up?"
“Barely. It’s been at least a couple of weeks since I started this training arc and I still feel like death’s shit.” Clay reports, almost laying his head back down before forcefully using both of his hands to push against the edge of the table.
“…. I’m sorry you must go through this.” Shane lamented, his usual smile still on his face despite his low, sorrowful tone. Even now, Clay could not get a beat on Shane.
“It’s ok, it’s not your fault. If you think I need to go through this…. I’ll see what I can do. Clay relented. Even though he had only known him for so long through Discord DM’s, Shane had always been there for him, giving him advice and support in equal measure whenever he was down on himself. Though he picked and chose when he showed up more often than Clay had liked, Shane had mostly been there for him when he needed him. For that, Clay believed that Shane had earned more than his fair share of the benefit of the doubt.
“Anyway, you need to eat as much as you can, your CQC training is coming up in less than 30 minutes,” Shane informs Clay as he sees a small lizard on the table, walking around his plate.
“Jeez, now, I’m not sure if I should…. I’d like to keep my food in my stomach…” Clay contemplated with a sense of foreboding dread.
10:10 AM: Close Quarters Combat (CQC) Training
“COME ON! You call yourself a man?! My 10-year-old could kick your ass for Christ's sake.” Clay’s CQC instructor berated him after flipping him to the ground for the…. 5th time? 7th? Clay had lost count at this point. Clay didn’t know what was worse, the pain of getting slammed onto the hard and dusty floor of the dry former lakebed, or the damage to his pride.
“Ok, I’m benching your pathetic ass. Girl, whatever your name is. Get over here!” the instructor called out to Ophelia.
“The names Ophelia.” She says as she walks in front of Clay and stands across from the instructor.
“And my name’s Shiki. Not that either of us needs to know the other’s name.” The instructor gave a rough and curt introduction. She was an Asian woman who appeared to be in her mid 30’s with a toned yet slim body and a sky blue hijab on her head. Her skill in physical combat (so good that she kicked Clay’s, a grown man’s, ass with ease) and the relative lack of a distinct accent gave her an air of experience and mystique.
“Now, let’s see what you can do.” Shiki proclaimed before rushing toward Ophelia, a plastic knife at the ready.
With little time to think, Ophelia immediately grabbed the hand holding the knife, stopping Shiki from stabbing her. In response, Shiki grabbed Ophelia’s open arm, seemingly putting them both in a stalemate. When either would try to kick or knee the other, the other would just block the attack with their own knee or leg, thus dragging out the intense standoff. Suddenly, Shiki unleashed a headbutt that caused Ophelia to break her grips and fall hard on the ground. Before Ophelia could react, Shiki had her plastic blade right on Ophelia’s throat.
“I see. Experienced yet sloppy, untrained even.” Shiki observes as she stands on Ophelia’s shoulders, a large bruise now on her forehead.
“The boss gave me a…. less than detailed rundown about you and I have to ask… where’s your survival instinct? Don’t want to look bad in front of him?” Shiki questioned, pulling her knife away from Ophelia’s throat and pointed it at Clay, who watched close by.
“…. Are we done here?” Ophelia asks Shiki, ignoring her question.
“No. That was just round one. You got a few more to go” Shiki clarifies, reaching her hand out to Ophelia.
Geez, not sure how I should take this. Should I feel bad for her or see it as karma? Clay pondered, still having not completely forgiven Ophelia despite talking to her at breakfast just fine. Sure, she apologized for shooting him in the head, but well…. It was still a bullet to the head he took from a gun she fired with intent to kill. It didn’t matter that Clay knew why she did it, she did not have the benefit of the doubt that Shane had. Even if she did, she still went too far in his eyes and no single apology was going to be enough to heal that mental wound, especially one made in the heat of a desperate moment.
Well, either way, I guess I can finally take a bre-
“Oh, just because Shiki found a new toy to break, you think you can sit back and relax?” A tall, buff man with light black skin and a French accent suddenly asks Clay, breaking his train of thought.
“Oh, com-!”
“Yes, come on. It’s been more than a week and your body is still flabby. Not in good shape I must say.” The buff man stated before pushing Clay to the ground.
“Give me 1,000 kid.”
10:20 AM: Physical Training (PT)
Despite the increased strength given to him by the Lord of the Void, push-ups were still something that Clay hated doing. He still found it a pain in the ass to lower himself to his nose and push back up. It was excruciating. Though Clay could finally do more than…. 3 push-ups thanks to his new ‘gifts’, his arms became unsteady at around the 100 mark. By 300, Clay’s arm could no longer hold up and his palms slid to the side. Before he hit the ground, the buff instructor punted his stomach so hard it took the wind out of Clay.
“Don’t be so…. Overdramatic! Start over! Do you hear me?!” the instructor shouted.
Like Ophelia with Shiki, Clay did not quip back at him. Clay just got into a plank position without any resistance. Though Clay had a feeling he forgot something.
“I didn’t hear a ‘yes sir’!” the instructor violently reminded Clay, once again kicking him in the stomach though Clay did not fall out of position this time.
“Sir, yes sir! Instructor Reno sir!” Clay barked.
“Good, now get your fat ass in gear,” Reno instructed Clay as he watched him begin his second round of pushups for the day.
Clay really did not know how much more he could take of this. He knew he needed to get in better shape and have better combat skills if he wanted to accomplish anything against the Lords and the other Chosen. And he knew that Shane meant well, or atleast, he thinks Shane means well. But from everything to the dessert, it’s dry…. Everything to the weather that could be freezing or hellishly hot depending on the day, even Clay’s trainers which he dubbed ‘the Jerk Squad’, Clay was already at his limit, both mentally and physically. But really, what else did he have?
11:20 AM: Mock Battle.
Despite how sore Clay’s arms and upper body were after the PT and how sore Ophelia’s…. Everything was after her ‘training’ with Shiki, they both stood across from the two instructors as well as Dixon from earlier in the morning in a large and wide area of the dry lakebed with many inflatable bunkers scattered around, plastic BB guns in hand.
“Why are we doing this? Aren’t we going to be mostly fighting corrupted animals?” Clay exasperatedly asks.
“Well then, if you can kick our asses, some crazy critters won’t be any trouble. Dixon explains before spitting on the ground.
Clay looked over to Ophelia and found her staring daggers at Shiki, her face an intense scowl while the instructor had a sly smile.
“OK, EVERYONE! GET INTO POSITIONS!” Shane commands while speaking through a megaphone.
Clay and Ophelia walk over to the far-left side of the makeshift field while the instructors walk over to the far right.
“What? Not going to say something cliché like ‘don’t get in my way’ or something?” Clay goads Ophelia.
“Shut up. I need to focus.” Ophelia responds, not even looking at Clay, focusing her gaze on the foe across the field.
“Aaaaaaaand! Start!”