I gripped the circular valve in both hands and wrenched it to one side. It squealed, demanding oil and grease that probably hadn't been given in over two centuries. For someone like Dog it would've been as easy as a flick of the wrist.

For me, it meant everything I had on top of leveraging my weight.

But it worked, and I saw the flammable gas leaking from the filters begin to thin out and dissipate. The ventilation system made short work of the rest. I couldn't say for sure what it was. The air inside the Madre was cleaner than the Cloud, but the faint tinge of it was still there, stinging with oxidized copper.

After weeks of leg-work, and one too many brushes with death for my liking, we were finally inside the Madre. I'd made it inside by the skin of my teeth. If slipping under the gate hadn't been close enough, I'd had to slip between the gilded blast doors before the Madre resealed itself. Once inside, I passed through a glass doorway to the main lobby, finding my conspirators had indeed beaten me inside.

Then promptly passed out on the floor.

I joined them as the Madre's security washed over me.

Don't know how long I was put back out for, probably a few hours. More than I'd spent under after the Ghost People got through with me. But even being knocked out on the cold, hard ground in the Madre was better than the softest bed in the Villa. No risk of tetanus from an old box-spring either.

Shortly after waking up, Elijah contacted me over the Madre's intercom. I hadn't seen him among the others, so his added control over the Madre only gave more credence to my guess. He had to have been waiting in the Madre for some time. But, either way, now I was going to need to help him 'wake it up'. There were only a few small hang-ups.

Three of them.

Elijah hadn't counted on Dog/God, Domino, and Christine making a bee-line for the Casino. Or the security system knocking them out and scattering them through the building afterward. Something to do with vocal and facial recognition software. Though the real problem, as Elijah relayed, lied in their collars. Elijah needed access to the music archives, for some reason, but interference from the collars made the archives inaccessible. Garbled the frequencies, much like how radios interfered with their own signal. I found it humorously ironic that Elijah had only caused more trouble for himself.

It stopped being funny, when it became clear I was going to be the one to fix that.

Elijah wanted the three of them dead. He'd do it himself, but something about the construction of the Madre made that impossible. The signals wouldn't transmit properly between floors, otherwise he'd have just offed them from the start. But it also meant that we could get away with killing each other now. The Madre would disrupt the signal from the collars that kept us linked and from killing each other. As long as I was 'quick' I could kill them, and escape to safety before my own collar went off. Naturally, I was resistant to taking orders to some craggily old fuck who'd held me hostage for several weeks. Especially when he'd lost the only thing keeping me on his leash.

The signal couldn't travel between floors?

I was practically free.

But the doors to the Madre wouldn't reopen until I'd turned the power back on, at least. So I went along with what he wanted for a little longer. I found my way into the gambling hall proper, dodged security, and eventually flipped the switches to wake the place up.

Immediately after, a warning claxon sounded. There was a gas leak on one of the upper floors.

As Elijah helpfully explained: Dog was trying to kill us.

Specifically, he was trying to kill himself.

Not wanting to wind up an extra-crispy critter, I bolted up to the ground floor, and found myself in the Madre's restaurant. Dog, or maybe God, had locked the doors to the place tight. I had to find an emergency maintenance key, then run back through a maintenance closet in the casino. It was directly conjoined to the kitchen for ease of access. It also had the piping that fed gas for the stoves.

Said piping had been busted open and was twisting through the stagnant air like colorless flames, giving off a faint sulfuric tinge. An add-in for finding gas leaks. Made the whole closet smell like rotten eggs.

I closed the valve and sealed off any damage as best I could. But it didn't change that the air was still full of gas. Or that there were more valves in the kitchen. I could feel my throat tightening as my lungs fought for breathable air. If the gas wasn't shut off soon, I'd be dead long before Dog blew us to kingdom come.

Passing by a terminal at one end of the closet, I opened a door out into the kitchen. A long room, with a long series of centuries old stove-tops and prep stations. To one side, left of the door, a massive walk-in cooler, possibly a second to the right side of the room across from it. I couldn't immediately see where the valves were. My pip-boy pointed them as being deeper in, one near the cooler, maybe inside it. The other was to the far right side of the room.

I couldn't see Dog either. But I could hear him. His growling voice snarling as he argued with himself, God's gravelly voice trying to bring reason to their madness. They were locked in some sort of loop, both sides trying to break the stalemate, get the other to submit. It wasn't working.

But it was enough for me to know I had to keep my head down. If I broke the loop, there was a chance Dog might seize the moment to kill us. Better to stay out of sight, until I shut the gas off, at least.

I crept out into the kitchen, and briefly tracked Dog's voice to the far right of the room. He was rammed up against a corner, arms bracing him against it as his body shook and trembled, quite literally trying to tear itself apart. A thing both fascinating and terrifying. Supermutants could move tonnage, and all that strength was currently fighting itself in a desperate bid for control it would never win.

With the most amount of control I could muster, I crept across the kitchen to the cooler. Better to keep in cover than walk where Dog could see me. Especially if it was where the closest valve was. I passed through the door to the cooler, quietly parting strips of material hanging from the doorway that were meant to help keep the cooler at temperature. Though stepping in, it was clear that the coolant was a few centuries overdue for a refill, the air smelling of damp and mildew. Despite that, most of the food seemed well preserved, safe enough to eat. Shame I wasn't hungry.

Towards the back of the cooler, near another door leading back into the kitchen, was the valve. It was nestled between containers and shelving that looked far cleaner than I'd come to expect. The dust had settled in the Madre, and not much stuck to stainless steel. Even the cosmic knives were naturally clean, looking almost as new as the day they'd been made. I could almost make out my own reflection in it, but it was blurry, like looking at a pool of muddy water. Without much other thought I passed it by, putting my focus on the valve. Sulfur stinging my nose and gas slowly suffocating me. I could see it rising and pouring out of the valve.

My hands reached out and gripped the Valve, and I began to push against it. Dog clearly didn't have a hard time opening the things. Unfortunately, I wasn't a Supermutant, and struggled with it. The metal squealed as I tried to get it to move.

Dog heard it.

I could hear as his growl echoed through the close quarters of the kitchen. Bouncing off the cold, grime coated walls. Followed closely by the scrape of his fingernails. Things hard as steel and with a natural edge, chiseling against the surrounding material.

He was still talking to himself, arguing with God as they moved towards the side of the cooler I'd entered through.

With a desperate churn in my stomach, I twisted the valve, and felt it lock hard on itself, closed.

Right before Dog came careening into the cooler, I slipped behind one of the prep tables, cosmic knives and thoroughly chipped honing rods dangling from its edges. My vision drifted past them, beneath the table. Dog's tree-trunk legs stomping through the doorway, halting there. His ragged breathing filled the air as he snarled and growled.

I could see the base of a gas bomb in his hand. The kind the Ghost People used. No telling where he got it. There hadn't been any in the Madre. Had he grabbed it before rushing to the Madre? Didn't matter much. He had it. One wrong move: boom.

But with each passing second, the stink of sulfur got thinner in the air, and my breathing got better. The ventilation was doing its job. Even if there was still a valve left to close, and the risk of explosion still there, it meant the odds were shifting. As long as I could close the valve, maybe the room would vent quick enough to keep the bomb from adding us to the stains on the walls.

Dog began to stomp raggedly into the cooler, rounding around the table. Muttering to himself, voice constantly changing. "hungry… so hungry… quiet… want quiet…. let it all end… make pain go away."

As he got closer, I crept along the opposite edge of the table. Rounding it back towards the way we'd come in. If he didn't see me, I could bolt for the last valve and get it shut. Hopefully before he came to his senses enough to just chuck the bomb. That's all it would take.

Halfway along the table, Dog shifted suddenly, slamming against it. A terse and rasping growl in his voice.

"Stop what you're doing." God hissed.

Unintentionally, I did. But I stayed low. Keeping up against the table as I waited, briefly.

"Back in the cage!" God hissed. "All I want, all I've ever wanted is to keep you, to keep us-"

"Dog, Dog hear you now." Dog growled. "Hear voice, put Dog in cage. Dog wake up, hungry, trapped, need to find Master. No more. Not much longer. Not-"

"-listening to me!" God struggled, the Nightkin's body suddenly lurching away from the table. "Listen to me. If you do this we both-"

"Die." Dog growled, voice becoming more solid and unwavering. "Dog wants to die. Tired of caring, tired of you. Dog tired of this place, Master-"

"Help us." God pushed back, and I saw the Nightkin stumble back against a wall, massive hands flying to their face. Briefly, I swear I saw his eye pass over me, then roll back into their head. "I only want… to help us! Tired of being your minder-"

I took the opportunity and began moving again. Whatever internal battle those two were having, God was clearly on the losing end of it. What little control he was wrestling away from Dog waned as quickly as he found it. If I wasn't already sure Dog would take control and kill us all before, I was then.

Carefully, being mindful of Dog and God as they thrashed against the wall. I moved back through the door we'd both come through. Rounding the corner, I kept low for the first few steps. Just as a precaution.

Then an errant breath caused my lungs to spasm, and sent me coughing. Choked me with the poison in the air.

The thrashing in the cooler came to an abrupt stop.

Fear took control of my feet and I bolted across the room, dodging a bank of stoves and ovens as I made for the last gas valve. As I reached the last valve I heard thundering footsteps echo from the Cooler. Didn't bother to turn around and look. If Dog already knew I was there, it was a race between us to see who was faster. His throwing arm, or my hands.

I clasped onto the valve and began to twist. The old metal creaking in my hands, threads squealing against clotted grease and flaking rust. The valve just barely began to turn as I heard Dog's voice echo through the Cantina's kitchen.

"NOW WE ALL BURN!"

"NO!" God cried.

With a burst of adrenaline, the valve lurched in my hand, snapping shut.

Behind me, there was a burst of air and a rush of heat. As I began to whirl around, I saw the fire roll out of the cooler, flames licking and curling in the air like flowing water. Growing and spreading through the air in a brilliant bloom of light, like the petals of some incandescent flower. It sucked the air and gas from around, drew them towards itself, grew larger. Hotter. Faster.

A wall of heated air crashed against me and slammed me into the wall. Washing over me, more scorching than the Mojave heat and prickling as a laser-bolt. Felt like it cooked the air in my lungs, swelled them to the point of bursting.

But the explosion stopped there. Slowly receding and filling the heated air with smoke. My guess about the ventilation had been right. Had I not shut the last Valve, things would've been a lot worse. Even then, I found myself blasted back against the wall and floor, struggling to breathe, even with the poison gone from the air.

It reminded me of my time in Vault 22 with Boone.

Too close. Way too close.

For a few moments, I stayed prone against the wall. Waiting for my heart to wind itself down before I pushed any further. Failing that, enough for the pain in my back to subside.

My first attempt at getting back up had me slip and slide back down the wall, but I made it back up the second time. As I breathed I could taste the carbon in the air. Sooty, a flavor hard to describe beyond bitter and harsh. I slowly stepped back across the kitchen, trying to pay attention through a light thrum of adrenaline. I knew my collar wasn't beeping, couldn't tell if that was the delay Elijah had talked about or not. But without the threat of death, I didn't feel so inclined to rush.

"… Dog?" I asked, futilely waving smoke away from my face. "God?... Are you there God?... man that feels weird to say."

There was a cough, and a faint groan, as I approached the cooler once more. Slowly wading my way through the smoke. I slid my way back in, and found that the air wasn't as cool anymore. There was a foul smell in the air that hadn't been there before. The kind from scorched fat and hair. But worse, like the fat had gone rancid and the hair had been thick as coal. I'd only smelled it once or twice in the past. But it was unique enough that you didn't forget it.

Supermutants burned differently than humans. Nightkin especially.

The ventilation pulled enough of the smoke away that I could see Dog and God. What was left of them anyway.

Their limbs were shredded, one leg blown off at the knee, another at mid-thigh. One arm with half a hand torn to ragged meat and the other missing the hand entirely. Large, thick shards of steel jutting from the stumps. Shrapnel from the bomb. Every inch of skin from mid chest down, just beneath the scar of Dog's name, was scorched a shade of midnight black. Indigo fluid wept from what flesh wasn't cauterized, Nightkin blood. His flesh was dark and raw, glistening in the low light of the kitchen, as the blood began to flow more quickly. I could see their body convulsing, minutely, trying to heal the damage that'd been done.

Something it was well beyond capable of doing.

"Dog?... God?" I asked, not even bothering to keep a hand over the weapon at my hip.

For a moment, they were deathly still. Again, if it wasn't for my collar not going off, I'd have assumed they were dead outright. Right before I would've knelt down to check better though, they took a sharp breath, and groaned. Their yellowed eyes drifted listlessly towards me. Half glassed over and bloodshot.

"You… Dog… Remember you." Dog spoke, each word a labored breath. "Nice… to Dog… Bring food."

Before I could say or do anything, Dog convulsed, and his eyes flared wide.

"Dog." God hissed, voice strained and full of venom. "Do you realize… what you've done!?"

"… Freedom." Dog answered lowly.

I knelt down next to them. "What do I do?" I asked "I-I don't normally deal with wounds-"

"Nothing." God hissed, eyes locked on me. "You… had your chance. All you… had to do was… stop Dog." Their eyes began to drift off of me. "I… Feel him… Dragging me… down with him… I didn't…. Didn't want."

Without thinking about it, I pulled out one of my few stimpacks and jammed it into his chest.

The hypodermic needle bent to the side. Supermutants had a tougher hide, made using stimpacks even more difficult. Even Lily struggled with them.

I pulled the needle back and tried to straighten it out. Only for Dog to flail at me, briefly.

"No." Dog whined. "No… Dog... want this… Tired, want to sleep… Want it to end… Not sad to go."

"I… am tired too." God answered, voice a bitter whisper. "Do not… wish to go… with you… Tired of protecting you… Tired of being ignored."

Something in their face softened. Looking admonished, like a guilty child.

"Dog… Dog is sorry." Dog whined, deep voice sorrowful. "Dog… Wanted to please Master… So long without Master… So long alone… afraid… Dog… sorry."

"You… were never alone." God answered. "We… we were never alone… Never in control… Always tried… keep us… safe… I… you… we… together…"

Their face relaxed, becoming a calm mask. As their eyes turned to glass, a cloudiness I hadn't realized was in them faded. Leaving them empty and clear.

Whatever peace they'd made in their final moments, it was the only kind I could've helped them find. I wasn't a doctor. Wouldn't even know where to begin.

So they died as they lived. Another Victim of both Elijah and the Madre.

Even knowing I couldn't have done anything to change that, guilt still weighed on my shoulders. Like the collar around my neck.

Which slowly began to beep.

Even as Elijah echoed over the intercom, I was already in motion.

I would live with my guilt.

…

I woke up well ahead of my alarm, which was about as pleasant as it sounds. Unfortunately, once I was awake, I didn't feel like going back to sleep.

Which was just the icing on the cake, since I was up at least an hour or two ahead of when I should've been.

With a hangover.

That caught me as a surprise. I couldn't quite remember the last time I had a hangover. The implants around my heart from the Big Empty did a good job of siphoning out toxins, and I was good about managing myself. Must've been cumulative from the extra exhaustion. Helped contribute to what had been a pretty restless sleep. Bad dreams, more vivid than I liked them. I'd seen more than my share to make them feel all the more real.

I sat up on my cot with my blanket wrapped around me. As I moved, I remembered I'd pulled Zwei up with me, and had to be careful about how I moved. He began to rouse as I did, but I just adjusted him so he could keep sleeping comfortably. One of us deserved to at least. Might as well be the dog. Whatever my brain needed to process, it didn't want the rest of me paying attention to it. Stingy prick, like I didn't have my own thoughts to suppress.

I'm pretty sure he heard me complaining, because there's a lengthy gap in my memory after that. One moment, I'm staring blankly into space, the next there's an alarm ringing, and Ruby is slapping an arm over her Scroll, perched precariously by the edge of her bunk. She began to pick herself up, stretching, legs doing a rapid twitch as she over extended herself. Her silver eyes blinked open, and she slowly swiped the sleep out of them.

She looked down, bleary eyed, from her bunk, scanning the room.

Her eyes settled over me and, after a moment of fog, she smiled sweetly.

"Morning Six."

I nodded at her. "Morning Tiny."

"… Wanna tell me more about Joshua-"

"Nope."

…

A steady breath blew through my teeth, as I kept my concentration. Trying to keep my aura separate from my own muscle power. I could train my main muscle groups easy enough, and needed to if I was going to keep my base strong. But they were never the problem, my aura was.

I had one hand planted against the floor, the other curled around my back. It'd already had its turn.

'97… 98… 99…'

I pulled a hundred, and let myself hit the floor, allowing my aura to relax. All the weights and chains I had strapped around me did little to cushion me. I was even wondering if they were doing anything to help me at this point either.

In my peripherals, I could see Yang nodding. "You're getting better."

I nodded silently, feeling a bit piqued.

After my teammates woke up, the morning began to slowly kick itself into motion. Even with the hangover, my body was still grateful for a meaningful night's worth of sleep.

Damn shame it didn't last.

A couple hours and a few classes later, it was time for PT. Physical Therapy in my case. All the swimming and intermittent training had gone a long way towards undoing the damage. Unfortunately, my going out and overexerting myself came pretty close to redoing it.

Stiffly, I uncurled my arm from behind my back, giving it a cursory wave to loosen it. Without hesitation, I looked down at myself. The heavy weighted vest, looped with heavy chains. The black bundles ringing my arms and legs, clinging to my hands and feet. I had to be near to double the weight of my Riot Gear in it. Used to be, when I pushed myself I could feel it.

I hardly felt it then.

Twisting at the hip, stretching, I turned to look at Yang who was busy adjusting a weight vest of her own. The two of us had been doing calisthenics. While my teammates were decidedly not a fan of my regiment, that didn't stop it from affecting them. Yang, competitor that she could be, felt compelled to try and keep up with me. Ruby and Weiss had ditched it to go for laps through the obstacle course, but they seemed to have integrated a few extra exercises. Some minor weight work, a few extra endurance and bodyweight forms. It would do them some good, even if it didn't seem like they needed the help.

"Not gonna lie, I was expecting… more." Yang said, giving me a smirk.

"More?" I asked. "I matched you while feeling like death warmed over."

"Sure you did." Yang challenged. "Or maybe you were off by one or two. Not a lot of room to mess up."

"I kept count in my head." I said. "We're even, a hundred each."

"Keep telling yourself that." She needled, stretching. "… what's next?"

"Not sure." I answered, rolling my shoulders. "But I want to keep going."

"That's the spirit." Yang smirked, motioning towards the free weights. "Let's do legs next. Maybe after that you'll admit de-feet."

"Girl, you've got squat on me and you know it." I said.

She just smiled.

"..." I brushed past her and began moving towards the weights. Without missing a beat, she fell in step beside me.

"You know, this would be a lot easier for you if you just admitted you liked them." She said, smiling.

"So you keep saying." I droned.

"It'd be a real weight off your shoulders." She said.

"Hmm." I grunted, trying to exercise my right to remain silent.

I let my eyes wander to the rest of the gymnasium. After more than a few unwanted incidents, I'd learned it was better to look elsewhere. The picture of why these incidents kept happening was slowly becoming clear to me, but that didn't mean I had to like it, or not avoid it.

My eyes drifted over CFVY, still training as a team. Yatsu doing weighted pull-ups with an anvil at his waist, Fox slowly swinging kettlebells through the motions of his fighting style. Coco was on a machine meant for emulating a squat press, and moving a sizable amount of weight. Could swear I could see a glint of something metallic along her torso, but that was probably my imagination. Velvet was the most curious though. She was wearing weights, much like myself, but was currently doing speed ropes. Her face was bright red, so she was either in the zone, or pushing a bit too hard. Not too far away from them, I could see Cardin and his lackeys throwing dumbbells around like paperweights. Terrible form, no control. Any muscle he was going to build was all for show. I could note that JNPR wasn't too far from them, bouncing slightly between the machines and, confusingly, the gymnastics equipment.

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

Frankly I should've been surprised that we even had gymnastics equipment at all. But I wasn't. Beacon had some pretty strange stuff.

JNPR was moving between them in an uneven but circuitous rhythm. Ren was easily spending the most time on the Gymnast's bars, flipping and spinning through the air. Moving, spinning, and bending through the air in a controlled and almost artful way. Good for the core muscles. Made sense he'd put emphasis on that part of his training, the little I knew of how he fought. At the far opposite end of the spectrum was Nora, who still favored the heavy weights over acrobatics. Emphasis on heavy. The image of her tossing around a thousand pound barbell like it was filled with helium was still fresh to me. She'd moved onto greater weights since then, and it emphasized how genuinely strong she was.

I'd sooner try bare-knuckle boxing with a Nightkin than Nora, and I'd been punched by Lily before.

Amusingly, whenever she went over to the gymnast's bar, she'd do a few basic motions, then drop like a hammer to the floor. She'd stick it each time, but she fell hard. Ren nearly missing his grabs every time she did was evidence enough.

Between the two of them were Jaune and Pyrrha. Juggling their acrobatics with weight training. It was hard to say if one was truly a priority for either over the other. But, much like Ren, what I knew of their fighting styles lent credence to it. Pyrrha's spear and shield work did seem to use far more motion than Jaune's sword play. But both required no small amount of physical strength and endurance.

Past them, nestled amongst the gymnast equipment still, were Sun and Blake. He'd approached us early into the class. Made noises about how she'd seemed out of sorts the past few classes and asked if she wanted to change pace a little bit.

The girls had been trying to copy some variation of my own routines, so she jumped on it in a heartbeat. Sun never struck me as much the gymnastics type, but on the other hand I suppose it made sense. His combat style seemed focused more on martial arts than gunplay. Minus those lever-actions he somehow turned into both nunchucks and a staff.

The way people learn to fight over here will forever be a mystery to me. As if everyone individually decided to create their own combat system, then forced everyone that followed after them to do the same. Not always a bad thing, but stupidly inefficient.

But it did lead to some… interesting training practices.

Sun was performing some exercises not dissimilar to Ren's. Not so controlled or organized, but similar in their motions. Blake, however, was performing some that required a wholly different degree of finesse and control. What she was doing was more akin to dancing than the acrobatic work Sun or Ren were doing. Yet, watching Blake, I couldn't help but be more impressed by her display.

Maybe it had something to do with the vibrantly colored ribbon she was whipping and twirling about.

The ribbon of brightly colored fabric whipped and whirled around her in elegant and fluid motions. Rippled against the currents of the air, and Blake contorted herself through complex and demanding motions, each visibly requiring great control over herself to complete. The effect it had was tantalizing and graceful, showing the lean curve of her muscles and frame. Every motion tensing and relaxing them into new positions that-

The ribbon was a beautiful shade of pink. It didn't match her normal color palate, but it made for good contrast.

"See something you like?" Yang prodded, nudging me with an elbow as she followed my gaze.

"Credit where it's due, it's impressive." I said. "That kind of control takes years to build. She has to have been working at it for a long time. Doubt I could do the same."

Yang nodded, looking towards her partner. "Everyone has their own way of doing things, right? Aura doesn't change that too much. You and me seem pretty good with good ol' pushups and squats, But Nora needs the heavy weights, Ruby needs to run-"

"And Kitten needs to narrowly avoid getting tangled up by a loose thread." I surmised.

I couldn't tell if Blake could hear us or not, But I noticed the stink-eye she shot my way.

"That too. But, hey-" Yang raised an arm and curled it at the elbow, flexing a bicep. "Can't argue with results right? Everyone loves a gunshow."

I took note of Yang's arm. She wasn't big with muscle, not the way some of our male classmates were. But she sure wasn't small either. Side effect of strength training, you always wind up a smidge bigger for it, there's not much getting around it. There's different types of muscles, meant for different things. But most of the time, strength meant building more muscle tissue. Meaning, even if she wore it well, Yang wasn't some small and dainty type either. That was more Weiss's department. I was well familiar with the type of build Yang had because, like she'd said, it was similar to the one I had myself. There was clear shape and definition to her arm. It worked seamlessly into her shoulder, garbed under a form-fitting top that-

"Real strength comes from the Traps and the Lats, Yang." I said, fixing my gaze on her hair, pulled up in a damp ponytail.

Yang merely smirked, then shifted her flex to her shoulders and back "Duh~" She teased. "The arm-tillary is just part of the show."

"…"

I exhaled slowly through my nose. Cleansing thoughts, silent curses. Back into the shadows with unwanted trains of thought. Deadening of the senses against unwanted punnery.

I was just as annoyed by the fact she'd found a way to turn her wearing long pants against me.

Why did everything have to be form fitting? It added no benefit and loose fitting was more comfortable.

With another, banishing, breath, we carried on to the weight rack. Since we were doing legs, the most immediate thing was squats. There were other, less obvious options. Deadlifts, Lunges, stair climbs if you were nuts. But for the amount of weight we were probably going to be swinging around, squats were the saner choice. As long as you went through the full range, you'd get everything.

We set the bar onto the rack and started loading it with weights. Remembering back to the end of the previous term, Yang had capped herself out at around three hundred and twenty something. While I'd doubled it and somehow didn't crush myself under the weight of my own stupidity. An amazing feat I regularly managed to accomplish.

As such, we used three hundred as a benchmark and got lifting. We went for long sets at first, burn up some of that extra stamina, build some endurance. Start really pushing our auras as we went bigger. But the longer sets just meant that we each had more time to ourselves. Wasn't so bad, when I was the one being crushed. But passing the weight off to Yang, left me with room to think. Remind myself that there are things I still needed to do.

Something I needed to tell Yang. An issue I wanted to keep dancing around, but knew I needed to address eventually.

Would now be a good time? No, absolutely not. This kind of topic was better reserved for if she and I ever had five seconds alone.

But that was another problem: the two of us scarcely got time alone… Well, I didn't spend time alone with any of the girls, Yang was just the weird case where I needed to. I also wasn't going to go out of my way and ask her to step aside for five seconds either.

But if I wanted to get this over with, I couldn't just keep waiting for a chance to actually show itself. Or ignore-

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Yang chirped, slipping into my peripheral.

"Hm!?" I grunted, whipping towards her. It'd been her turn on the rack, and she still had the barbell on her shoulders. She was leaning forward slightly, but not notably throwing off her form. Her core strength must've been incredible. Though given her abs-

"You good?" Yang asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Fine, thank you." I said, cracking my neck. "You finish your set?"

Yang hummed an affirmative, then stepped back slightly to the rack, straightening. She set the bar back into place and took the weight off herself. Stretching languidly as it was taken off of her, rolling her shoulders. She flicked her chin towards me and stepped out of the way with a coy smile. I stepped into her place and set myself under the bar.

"Caught you off guard." She said.

"Hm." I grunted, lifting the bar and starting into a rep.

"Never answered my question." She noted, watching me.

"Hm." I grunted, bottoming out, then pushing upward once more.

"Seemed pretty lost there." Yang prodded.

"Hm." I grunted, returning to position, inhaling and preparing to begin again.

"Y'know I actually tried to get your attention without having to bend forward like that." Yang said, smirking. "Something catch your eye?"

"Hm." I grunted, slipping into cadenced breathing as I began to more properly get into things

Yang quirked an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, probably hoping I was going to say something. Unfortunately for her, I know the importance of breathing while exercising, so that wasn't going to happen. After a couple moments, her smirk gained a dry edge to it.

"… You know you're being pretty quiet, cat got your tongue?" She asked.

"Don't remember lending Blake anything." I said, rising out of my last rep.

"Rude." Yang said. "Catty even."

"Boo." I said, leaning the bar back against the rack. "What's the two rules of a good squat Yang?"

"Good form and concentration?" She offered.

"Deep breaths and Ass to Grass, yes." I nodded. "I was just focusing on the two."

"Hm." Yang hummed, rolling her eyes.

"Cute." I said, rolling my shoulders and getting out of the way so she could do her next set. She obliged and stepped in to continue. Even as she did, she continued to eye me. Which itself continued as she worked through the set. Credit where it's due, not an easy accomplishment.

"… Alright." I said. "If you really want to know, I'm just mulling something over."

"No kidding?" Yang huffed, completing a rep. "Couldn't see that at all. Not like you and Blake have that contest going or anything."

"There's no contest." I said.

"Ok, broody-butt." She smiled.

"Oi."

She just kept smiling.

There was another bit of silence, minus the ambience of the gym, and the bar clinking and rattling on Yang's shoulders with each rep. This wasn't the place to handle things.

But something of an opportunity had presented itself, so starting it was better than abandoning it.

"… When we get a chance, I need to talk to you in private about something." I said.

"Hm?" Yang hummed, finishing another rep.

"It's important." I explained as she settled out of her rep. "But I'd rather we didn't talk about it here."

"…" Yang got this big smirk on her face, there was something smug about it that irritated me to no end.

"Whatever you think it's about, I promise it's not." I told her.

"I'm sure it's not." Yang said coyly. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Embarrassed?" I asked. "Really? You think this has anything to do with embarrassment?"

"Dunno, it seems pretty heavy. And I get it, I'm being weighed down too." She chuckled.

"It's not out of embarrassment." I told her.

Shen just kept smirking. "Then what is it?"

"I need to talk about what happened at Junior's club the other night." I told her.

"… Oh…"

Then, for some reason, Yang started blushing.

"Seems you might be overdoing it." I said, spotting her and gliding the bar back to the rack. "Good?"

"Y-yeah." Yang said, stepping away from the rack, and grabbing a bottle of water. She chugged from it for a moment, and I took the chance to sip from my (trusty) Vault 13 Canteen. Good to stay hydrated while exercising, always refreshing.

"… What do you need to tell me?" Yang asked after a moment, not quite looking my way.

"Don't want to talk about it here, or now." I said. "I just need to talk to you about some things. Can't seem to get five seconds where I can do that, so I figured I'd grab your attention while I had it."

"So, what, you could schedule it?" Yang asked, sounding amused and confused. "Make an appointment?"

"Nothing like that, just… I don't know, let you know I do need to talk to you, so we could work it out?" I offered.

Yang nodded, then blew a raspberry. "Alright, I'll try to remember."

"All I'm asking." I said, putting my canteen away.

"… HM." Yang hummed.

"Har-de-har." I said, rolling my eyes, then looking at the bar. "Guess it's my go then?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Yang said, motioning to the rack, before looking at me over her shoulder. "Unless you're suddenly not up for it."

"What do you take me for, a Cardin?" I asked.

Yang chuckled a little at that, and I looked at the bar. Truthfully, I wondered how much of a challenge I could call it. I could move around with a lot of extra gear, and had a lot of the time in the Mojave. Three hundred was on the far end, but still doable.

Now it almost felt like not enough. Which had a strange feeling connected to it. No one who lifts three hundred pounds of anything is going to say it feels light.

Except around here, apparently.

And I'd gone through some recent changes too.

"… Y'know, I wanna try something real quick." I said.

Yang finally turned and looked at me, curious.

"Help me get some more weights."

Yang's lilac eyes lit up, just a smidge, and she helped me collect some extra plates. We slid them on the bar until we'd doubled the original weight. Then a few more, to push it further. Put us in the ballpark of about seven hundred pounds. The bar didn't start to bow under the weight, but I could see the unmistakable tremble in its movements. Perhaps we were using the wrong equipment, but there are few good ways to lift that kind of weight.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Yang asked, seeing me put the last plates in place.

"Dunno." I said. "This was a challenge roughly a month ago, before I had my aura. I need a signpost of what's too much so I don't go and do something stupid."

"Like what?" Yang asked. "Flipping a car?"

"… I mean, can't you?" I asked

Yang chuckled "Totally."

"Then spot me." I said, gingerly slipping under the bar. "Time to stress test."

As I felt the bar begin to press against my shoulders, Yang walked around behind the rack. She'd have to mimic my form. Something went wrong, she'd have all of a moment's notice. I'd have less.

"Alright." I breathed, beginning to push against the bar, steeling myself for the extra weight. "Ass to grass."

I lifted the bar off the rack and brought its weight fully onto my shoulders. Felt it come crashing down onto me. Memories of the previous semester's final exam poured into my mind. My own weariness hounding after it. I half expected my knees to buckle inward then and there.

But they didn't.

There was no mistaking the weight on my shoulders. Mass is just one of those things, once you get a sense for it, you learn to very quickly not misjudge.

I had seven hundred pounds of steel resting on my shoulders.

It felt like half that.

It felt less than that. Like I was pushing three hundred again.

Gently I let the weight press me down, feeling the strain in my legs. Arms and core tightening as I kept my balance. Drawing a steady breath, I bottomed out, then shot upright, exhaling evenly.

Smooth. Fluid.

I stepped back and put the weight back on the rack, stepping out from under it. I looked at the bar, briefly making sure that, yes, that was seven hundred pounds. Yang was standing, just behind it, looking curiously from it to me.

"… Everything ok?" She asked.

"I just lifted seven hundred pounds like it was nothing." I said. "Last time I tried to do that I almost crushed myself."

Yang nodded "Yep. Aura. Strange stuff, huh?"

I nodded, thinking briefly, before returning to the plates and grabbing another set of them. I slapped them onto the bar, upping the weight to seven-fifty.

Yang merely smirked and gave me an approving nod.

Now the real game began.

How far could I go before I put myself back in the infirmary?

I got back under the bar and did it again. Moving evenly and smoothly through the motion, breathing steadily. I registered the extra weight immediately, but it was just that: weight. It didn't make me uncomfortable, it didn't push me any further than I thought I was capable of handling. It was just there.

So I kept going.

I reset the bar, went back, got more plates, and repeated the process at beats of fifty. Each time waiting to see what would happen. Things began to change quickly.

After Eight hundred, I started feeling the burn.

At Eight Fifty I felt a challenge and began really dipping into my aura.

At Nine Hundred I started questioning If this was such a good idea.

At Nine Fifty, I knew I was pushing my luck.

With each increment of the weight, I watched Yang's brow inch a little higher and her jaw a little lower. After collecting what I decided would be the last set of plates, she spoke up.

"I think this is starting to get a little… uh…" She struggled.

"Nuts?" I offered.

"Yeah." Yang nodded. "A little nuts… a little off the wall-nuts."

"Nice try." I said dryly. "Think it's time we cash you out of the pun game for the day."

Normally Yang would've jumped on that, but instead she was just looking at the bar. Somewhere between intimidated and bewildered.

I left to collect the next set of weights. On the return trip, I was starting to feel the building tension in my shoulders. A heady mix of lactic acid and fatigue. Pushing meant walking a tightrope with it. Slowing down meant rest, but a loss of momentum with it. Which I'd have to work harder to get back, and quite possibly wouldn't in this case.

However, as I approached the rack again, I found that I'd been given a reprieve anyway.

Two of them.

Sun and Blake stood near Yang, chatting with her as she leaned against the frame of the rack. They appeared to be talking about Blake's agility.

"-didn't know you could move like that." Yang said smiling. "It's pretty cool."

"My mom taught me how to do it." Blake said. "It's an artform that the White Fang used to pass down in the past. Traveling shows, I think."

"An impressive display." I agreed, moving around the rack to slide the plate onto the bar. "I can see how you might pull some of that training into your fighting style."

Blake nodded, brushing a sweaty lock behind her ear.

"Hey, I wasn't exactly sitting around either." Sun chuckled, shrugging.

"'Course not, you were enjoying the show too." I said, before looking at him. "You got my money yet?"

"… You're not gonna let that go are you?" Sun asked.

"Guy, you have no idea how far I'll take a grudge." I answered. "Just pay up and we'll be square."

"Ignore him." Blake said, looking up to Sun. "Thanks for checking in, I know we've been kinda distant the past few weeks."

"Just glad to see you're doing better." Sun said, smiling. "And, y'know, getting some sleep."

"I had some help." Blake said, looking at Yang and me bashfully.

Sun nodded, then looked at the bar as I slid the last plate in place. "Gotta say man, that looks pretty big, how much?"

"With these last ones?" I asked. "Should've hit the thousand mark."

"Duh- what?" Sun sputtered.

"Stress test." I said.

That was apparently enough of an answer for him, because he just nodded, looking at the bar in appreciation. He then pulled out his scroll and tapped at it, before pointing it at me.

"What are you doing?" Blake asked.

"Making a video." Sun said. "The guys are gonna want to see this."

"... seriously?" I asked.

"Yeah, how many people do you know that can lift that much?" Sun asked.

"You've met Nora, right?" I asked.

Sun paused, blinked, then turned to look at Nora.

She was currently doing jumping lunges with a bar that was almost comparable to mine. For comparison, I could see Cardin further down, trying to gather as many weights he could. Jackass probably felt a little below the bar. Wasn't fair when Nora kept raising it.

"... Ok, she's crazy." Sun acknowledged. "But are you?"

"Like a rabid gecko with its ass on fire." I answered.

"Language." Weiss said, who was also returning with Ruby in tow. Who was also completely drenched in sweat and looking quite pleased with herself.

Girl liked to run.

As my crowd began to grow, I took note others were taking note. It wasn't like I was trying to grab attention. But, then again, moving a thousand pounds of anything is never quiet.

"Are you sure you can actually lift this?" Yang asked.

I paused for a moment, weighing things out in my mind. "… mostly. It might not show in most cases, but I'm pretty strong. Most of that is in pure muscle-power though. I can punch hard, but I can lift harder. Different muscle types and all that."

Yang nodded, licking her lips slightly. "… Y'know, if something goes wrong, I don't know if I'd actually be able to spot you."

"I think you'll manage." I said, moving under the bar and into position. I looked back at her over my shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll make it easy for you."

Yang's brow fell back down, and she gave me a piqued look.

I chuckled at her. Then I lifted.

A thousand pounds of steel settled onto my shoulders. My muscles immediately cried foul and pain shot through my nerves. The weariness I'd managed to push away was standing in front of me, waiting patiently to buckle one of my knees with a sledgehammer. My aura stretched thin across me, trying to keep any one part from losing strength. It would only take one thing.

I inhaled, gently and slowly letting myself descend. Keeping whatever measure of control I could against the thing on my shoulder. You can't fight gravity, at least not forever, and expect to win. It was always a battle of lasting just long enough to make it a stalemate.

My knees clicked as I reached the low point, and I braced myself for the return trip.

With a concerted effort, I shifted my aura back to my legs and began to roll slowly through the motion. Breath hissing out through my teeth. I couldn't stop, if I did I'd lose all my momentum and be in real trouble. What little momentum I could make with a thousand pounds of metal on my back. I could almost feel my aura flickering and crackling, ready to give up everything and leave me to the mercy of Newton.

Then I straightened out, and found myself unable to go any higher.

Cautiously, I stepped back, and let the bar begin to fall.

It caught the hooks of the rack and settled with the heavy thud of a car crashing into a brick wall.

A thousand pounds. I'd hit my upper limit with aura and it blew everything I could do without it out of the water. With only a month of learning to use it.

I could only get stronger, and that boggled my mind.

Everyone who'd been paying attention paused and looked. Anyone who wasn't was when the bar crashed back into place. My teammates and Sun were cheering around me. I could see Nora pumping her fist. Yatsu was nodding in approval. Even Port gave me a gentlemanly clap.

Cardin merely threw his weight down in frustration.

It landed on his foot, so things evened out.

Right as the achievement settled in though, one of the muscles in my back decided it hated me. It immediately drew up on itself and I spasmed suddenly. A nice, completely unwanted, jolt of pain arcing up my back.

"Damn, dude!" Yang said

"Yeah." I said, trying to reach for my back. "Damn."