As I stood there, emotions swelled inside me. How could this man expect me to partake in his army, let alone willingly stay here? Then again as I stood there I could tell by their expressions that I wasn’t being given a choice. That’s how it's been since I got here though. Tenshi and his group have been giving me a somewhat nice treatment, but behind all their smiles and kind words lay malice and the intent to kill. The only person who didn’t seem to be cheering was the man in my dreams who goes by Rage. He stood in front of me as if testing me to see what I would do.
“Now Rage. Please take Ethan with you to the room.”
Turning away Rage motions to a hallway. I take one last look around us and we set forth. As we walked Rage didn’t say much. He explained to me what we would be doing and the rules and regulations of our sessions. Don’t touch anything without being told, listen and obey, always be accompanied by him or a helper, etc. The hallway I was in now was the one I took before to originally get to my room. Looking at Rage, his muscular body was lean and fit. I knew he was stronger than me, but all I needed was an opportunity and I would be able to escape. I started to raise my hand and quietly mumbled
“Gear Shift: Zero” my hands lighting up in response. I raise my hand to attack, but right when I do he turns around, hand around my neck smashing me into the nearby wall. I try to move his hand off me, but he presses down harder on my neck.
“Try something like that again and I’ll make sure to crush your windpipe completely.” His right hand is raised, glowing purple.
I put my hands up in defeat and he lets go as I fall, coughing up a fit, grabbing my throat for air. I look up and for a moment all my senses scream alert. His gaze was so strong I could feel the intent to kill even if I wasn’t looking at him. Offering a hand, he pulls me up and we keep walking as I try not to sound like a dying man. Eventually, we make it to our training center, and once again, I’m amazed by the room. Ceramic tiles are laid out as the floor has multiple fighting dummies lined up against the wall. The ceiling reflects what's below like a mirror and the back of the room opens up to an outside backyard. How do they even manage to get all this space? Rage motions me towards the middle of the room. He explains to me what we’re going to be doing, how I’m working on a Day 1, Day 2 type schedule. Day 1, starting today is pure combat training, how to defend yourself, and takedowns. Day 2, which starts tomorrow, is solely to train my Gears and get better at using them. From then, we’ll alternate between Day 1 and Day 2 so my body conditions properly. He also explains that the moment I step inside the training room, training begins. Just as I was about to ask what he meant, he threw a punch at me, hitting me square in the jaw, sending me to the ground.
“Man what the hell?!” but right before I could get back up, he grabbed me by the collar and threw me across the room. As I hit the floor with a loud thump, that’s when I realized what he meant. It didn’t matter if I wasn’t ready to fight or not, he was coming after me with the intent to kill. That was his training. No regular sit down and teach, he was going to train me with real hand experience. I slowly get up, Rage already closing the gap between us. I’ve never really been in a fight before, not like this at least. Most fights that happen are between teenagers who don’t know how to fight and instead just throw punches at each other. Not only that, but the fights that I’ve been in recently have all been using my Gears. Actual hand-to-hand combat is something entirely new to me.
He throws a right jab at me, but this time I’m able to dodge, sending a left hook aimed towards his side. Blocking it with his forearm, he then sweeps my legs, dropping me to the ground. Groaning I try to get up, but he punches straight down into my chest knocking the air out of me. For a moment, I blink my eyes, spots forming, everything blurring out. The last image I see is Rage standing over me, and with one last punch to the face, I was out.
The first thing that woke me up was the ever-growing pain in my chest. I cough as I grasp my chest, fighting back against the pain. As I look around, I notice I’m still in the training room, Rage is sitting on a stool and new types of dummies are set up.
“Get up, we’re not finished yet.” Haven’t I been here long enough? I look at the clock on the wall and see that it’s only been 25 minutes. Are you kidding me? And I have to be here for a WHOLE day? Groaning, I get up, hobbling over to the dummies, and wait for instructions. Rage explains that I have power behind my punches, but have no coordination. The dummies seem familiar and as he explains more, that’s when it comes to me. These are the same dummies used for Wing Chung. Wing Chung is a fighting style I’ve only seen in movies, but from what I remember, it uses quick punches, reflexive moments, and close-quarters fighting. He demonstrates the exercise I’m supposed to do, throwing a volley of punches and jabs at the dummy. He then steps back, looks at me, and points at the dummy as if letting me know it's my turn. I step up to the dummy and give a few punches, but nothing close to his movement. He goes back to the dummy and launches another series of attacks with blinding speed. This back and forth goes on between us as he tries to show me what to do, as I try to emulate what he shows me.
After a while I’m exhausted, my arms sore from continuous punches. As he showed me another round of attacks, I remembered what he said. Training never stops, and if he knocked me out during our training that must mean we’re not finished. Waiting for an opportunity, I get it when he turns his back towards me to take a sip of water. I charge at him, and right before I connect my fist to the back of his head, he quickly turns around and backhands me with a strong smack sending me flying back. Gripping my face, every touch seems to sting as I can already feel the swelling happening.
“You’re too loud with your steps. Sneak attacks are meant to be sneaky, it’s in the name.” Yeah yeah, I get it, your reflexes are better than mine. I get up and time goes on as we keep working on the dummies. Eventually, my hands seem to move on their own as I start to get the hang of it, getting faster and faster, each hit seeming to get stronger on its own. Once I’m able to follow the movements he steps away from the dummy and back onto the training floor.
“If you manage to land one hit on me, we’re finished here. The rest of the day, until you sleep, will be you trying to land a hit on me. Good luck” and with that, he took his fighting stance. Great, now I’m supposed to just automatically be better at fighting after using a dummy for a couple of hours. I pace around him, trying to figure out which way is the best point of attack. He doesn’t seem to be taking the first strike as he did the last time, so I slide my right foot back a bit, lean in, and charge at him. I keep myself low to the ground as I come at him, hands at my sides ready to attack. I throw a right uppercut which he easily parries, throwing a left punch straight down connecting with my skull.
“When someone attacks, they’ll have a blind spot. Yours was your right side because you had already given it up with your attack. Find your opponent's blind spot and exploit it. Always.”
Just like football ain’t it. I sweep at his feet, but he jumps away, and that’s when I get up, scrambling to rush at him. He gets in a fighting stance, and right as I throw a right jab, he follows up with a left-handed hook. This time though, I’m ready as I quickly drop down, sliding between his legs. Things seem to happen in slow motion afterward. As I drop down, he looks down in between his legs and tries to close the gap, but it’s too late. I punch both sides of his legs forcing them open wider than they should be. This causes him to lose his balance and fall forward a bit, just enough for me to slide myself out from behind, get up, and strike downwards. Before I can connect though, he kicks back, hands planted on the floor in a back-stand-like position, pushing me away from him. Facing me again, for the first time he cracks a smile, a smile seeming of approval.
We circle each other, waiting for one of us to make the first move. His reflexes are too good. Yeah I get it, he does this training practically every day I bet, but still, it’s as if he has me completely figured out. Everything I’ve thought of and tried to do ends up with me on the ground or back in our original positions like now. If I keep this up, I’ll just end up with more bruises and more aches, as I feel my back and face are already starting to burn with pain. As I ponder these thoughts, I don’t realize, but Rage has already made his first move, and when my vision focuses, I have but a moment to react as his fist closes in on my face. But that’s when the slow-motion effect kicks back in, and I’m able to sidestep his attack, getting a direct punch into his jaw. Rage stumbles back a bit, looking up at me while wiping the blood off the corner of his lips confused. I look down at my hands, confused as well, but because I don’t know how I just evaded his attack. One minute I was coming up with a plan and the next, my body seeming to move on its own, dodged his punch and countered with my own.
“Hey, would you look at that? I managed to” my sentence cut short as his fist connects with my face, sending me flying back. I hit the wall with a thud, my back exploding with immeasurable pain. I weakly look up, my gaze landing on Rage walking towards me, fist raised, steam emitting out, glowing red. I try to sit up, but my back denies me that luxury as a sharp pain pierces me, as I howl in pain, falling back to the ground. Rage looks consumed, well with rage as he slowly walks to me. I start to crawl away, but he grabs me by the head, lifting me, and pins me against the wall. Right before he can smash my head in, his hand is stopped by a mysterious person leaning against the wall, holding his fist in mid-air.
“Now now Rage. You know better than to get so emotional just because this kid landed a hit” stepping up to him, pushing his face directly at him “unless you’re upset that he got the best of you?” he says mockingly.
“You’re not supposed to be here, Greed. Now get out.” I could tell Rage is seething with hate, glaring at him while holding me up.
“Woah, someone’s upset. Now, why don’t you let the kid down before you end up killing him? Besides, training’s over. It’s time.”
Looking between both of them I could see there was extreme tension already in place before this moment. Rage was still upset for whatever reason, probably because I surprisingly hit him, and this Greed person seemed to be enjoying his displeasement. He was going so far as if to mock him and taunt him. Letting me go, I drop to the floor as I rub my back and head, feeling uneasy as the two of them glare at each other, the energy seeming to spark off each other. Rage walks away, taking one last look at me before walking out of the room. I sigh in relief as I finally could relax. Greed walks over to me, offering a hand. He helps me up and helps me walks out of the training room. As we walk, our conversations are short.
“How’d it go?”
“Good.”
Nothing seems to lead to anything as we end up walking in silence through the halls. He takes me to my room where Sebas is waiting for me at my desk.
“Welcome sir, I have prepared a bath and some food for you” pointing towards a cart with a plate on top.
Nodding, I'm too tired to even acknowledge him as I stumble to the bathroom. The bath seems to call to me, as bubbles are formed along the top, the water still warm. I dip in, my aches and pain seeming to instantly fade away as I sink into the tub. Time goes on as for the first time today, let myself relax, letting the water wash my pain away. Everything seems to fade away as I go through the motions of cleaning myself up automatically. When I finally walk out of the bathroom hair wet, towel wrapped around me, I see Greed still here, sitting next to my bed.
“About time, I was wondering whether or not you had drowned. Come, we have much to discuss.”
Propping himself onto one side of my bed, I grudgingly walk over to the other side and sit.
“As you know, my name is Greed, well that’s not my real name, but it’s the name you’ll get accustomed to. I’m sure you have any questions after coming here and going through that hellish training.”
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Staring at him, my mind drifted between sleep and his speech. He did a brief introduction to who he was as well as the rest of the seven, Rage, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Pride and Sloth. I’ve already met Rage, Greed, and Pride, the rest were away on missions or taking care of their own business, that which he wouldn’t share with me. He went on to explain the purpose of my training. Rage would not make it long enough in time for Tenshi’s grand plan, something else he didn’t go into detail about. So, Tenshi has decided to make me the new Rage, his new Sin. I had no clue what I was being prepared for or why Rage wouldn’t be available at the time of this event, but I did know one thing. I had to gain their trust, infiltrate their ranks completely and prevent this grand plan from happening before anyone gets killed.
“So why are you here? I mean thank you for saving me back there, but why are you still here?”
That seemed to hurt him as he gets up, pulling a nearby chair to sit on.
“Well, you seem like you can use a break. The rest of the Sins are so uptight and annoying, I figured I can be your barrier between them, a break from reality if you will.”
I could tell he seemed shady, something seemed off behind his smile and calm gesture, but for once, it felt like someone was not trying to kill me. Accepting his grace, we chatted more about the Sins and how they worked. As the conversation went on, the idea that this isn’t any ordinary guy and a murder slipped my head as we went deeper and deeper into the idea of Gears and where we were. At the end of it all, I had gained more knowledge about Gears, I already knew they were based on our personalities, but what I didn’t know is that they weren’t an exact translation of them, so to be careful when trying to assess a person’s Gear. Not just that, there were ways of using multiple Gear’s which I have yet to master. I don’t know when exactly, but at some point in our conversation I had fallen asleep letting him ramble on about the group's history and existence. When I come to, my room is dark, my clothes still ragged from training, my room empty with no sign of Sebas or Greed. I look around and instantly lay back asleep too tired to call out their names.
Light pierces my sleep as I try swatting at the rays as if to move them away from my closed eyelids.
“Sir, your bath and clothes are ready. And your escort is here.”
Groaning, I unwillingly sit up from my bed, rubbing out the tiredness from my eyes. I sit against the headboard, contemplating what’ll happen if I just stayed in bed and missed Day 2 of training. My question was quickly answered as my door flung open, Rage standing there, impatiently glaring at me.
“Do you want to get ready, or should I drag you out?”
Well, there goes my hopes, and with that, I climb out, hop into the shower and get ready for my new day. Rage takes me to a different room this time, not connected to the outside like yesterday. To get to this room we had to take an elevator several turns in a hallway to reach. The thought that I wasn’t useful anymore and that he was taking me to be killed had crossed my mind. That was until we got into our room which was clean, lined with what seemed like titanium walls as well as a stone floor. Lined up were dummies that seemed so real, they scared me when I walked in. At least a dozen of them had lined up against the wall, all seeming as if they were waiting for something. But that couldn't be the case, they were dummies.
“You’ll be using those, so get ready” pointing at the dummies against the wall.
The room was big, large enough to fit at least 100 people. What was it and the huge rooms in this place? As we walked in, he started explaining the rules of the room.
“These dummies” pointing at the ones lined against the wall, “never speak to them without my instructions.” As he went on explaining the rules, I couldn’t help but notice a door at the back end of the room. My curiosity was quickly killed when he told me that I was never for any reason allowed to go past that door. When I tried to inquire, he gave me a stern glare and told me rules are rules, quickly shutting down my question. He said the reason this room was so deep underground and why it’s lined with titanium is because this room can withstand the use of Gear’s fully, meaning we’re allowed to fight to our heart's content without worrying about damages. That part got me excited. Yesterday I was getting my ass laid out, try after try in hand-to-hand combat. I may not know Rage’s gear, but that didn’t matter to me. I had a good enough grasp of mine and I was going to show him who was boss. After what seemed like forever, Rage walked over to the wall where the dummies were lined up.
“One and Two, line up, you’re up.” Confused, I looked back and forth between the dummies and him expecting something to happen. I turn back around to take off my shoes when I hear a grunt and movement. When I turn back around, two of the dummies are standing center stage ready to fight.
“Woah Woah wait. Those are people!?” looking at the two now standing in front of me.
“They’re what you call Homunculus or as you might know them, Hybrids. These are the failed ones though, so they won’t be as human as your friend Julia, but they suffice for training dummies.”
As I stare at the two hybrids in disbelief I take them in. The one dubbed One is a muscular man, while Two is more slender but athletic looking. Sadness and anger wash over me though as I think about how these dozen were made, reminding me of what Julia is.
“Your goal is to fight these two until they’re destroyed. Don’t worry, they don’t feel any pain so you can destroy them without worry. They’re also softer than normal people, making doing this a lot easier” as he twists and rips off the arm of one of them.
Staring in disbelief I try to shake off what I just saw. As if that was my problem. I mean I’m glad they don’t feel pain since they’re being used as dummies but still. They’re hybrids, meaning people were killed to make them.
“If you keep worrying about the cost, you’ll never get stronger. Now let’s go”.
Sucking in my anger and displeasement, I stepped forward. Rage explained to me what my job was. To fight till the death with these two using my gears. They didn’t have any gears as I did, but their physical strength and reflexes were way above average, making them able to keep up. The match ended when both of the hybrids were defeated or I was killed, no exceptions. Getting into my fighting stance, I try and figure out which gear to use first, or even which of them to attack first. Like many of my questions since I’ve been here, it was quickly answered when the one dubbed One launches himself at me with incredible speed. His fist connects with my face sending me flying back against the wall with a crash. Slowly trying to get up, the other one dubbed Two flies at me with blinding speed, grabs my throat, and hurls me across the room into a stack of shelves. The other one comes at me, giving me no time to rest as he pummeled me into the cases.
“You can use your gears, you know! Or did you forget already?”
He’s right I just have to get it off and I’m set. But how can I even speak with these two landing hits on me this much and fast? Two grabs me and tosses me again, and I know it may seem crazy, but that’s just what I needed as mid-air I get my opportunity.
“Gear Shift: Zero!” my hands sparkling with electricity as I smash against the wall. I steadily stand up and as One comes flying towards me, I propel him with a field of electricity that radiates off my hands, sending him flying back. Two looked at me with confusion, as if he wasn’t expecting me to be able to fight back. I waste no time, using his confusion, I charge at him, body low to the ground, and swipe my hand upwards sending a ripple of electricity at him. On impact, right when I think I’ve won, One comes flying from the dust, hand planted on my face as he smashes me to the ground. This position seems familiar, doesn’t it? This time, however, I’m not the same scared kid I was at that moment. I grab his arm and send a wave of electricity through his body, sending his body into convulsions, his head steaming. Wiping the dirt off my face, I get ready for Two to attack again, but he never comes. Stepping forward a bit my body relaxes, which was my first mistake as right as I do, Two comes flying out fist connecting with my gut pushing me towards the wall. I cough up some blood as I grip his fist, trying to get him off me, but his force is too strong as he digs deeper into my gut. I scream out in pain as he delivers blow after blow against my chest.
Eventually, I manage to sum up enough strength to let out one scream, sending a shockwave against him as he flies back. Panting I wipe the blood off my mouth, barely keeping myself standing. One is standing in the distance looking between the semi-unconscious Two as if deciding whether to help his friend or fight me. I was done waiting for action, I was done getting my ass kicked. I didn’t care that these hybrids used to be a bunch of people. All sense of reason and logic fleeted, leaving only the desire to fight and get this over with. And these hybrids were in my way. Charging my hands to maximum output, I run at One and as he speeds towards me. I flip myself off the floor and grab his head, sending a bolt of electricity through his body as he goes into convulsions. As I land behind him he turns around swiping at me, but before he can reach me, I duck, grabbing his arm and using his momentum to flip him around landing him on his back. He tries to swat at me, but I block his attack, raising my fist and strike deep into his chest with a bolt of lighting. When I pull back, there is nothing left but a dark hole in the middle of his chest.
As I look around, Two is standing there, looking at his fallen friend. He looks back at me and charges towards me, fist raised. I guess all of the beatings I took yesterday did help because as he came at me, I sidestepped as he flew past me. Right before he completely passes by me, I grab his extended arm with my right hand and in one swift motion spin him around, break his arm and smash him into the ground so his arm is raised upwards and he’s faced towards the ground. Kneeling on him, I charge my hands, shocking his entire body until steam is coming off him. A strength I didn’t have before surges through me and in one swift motion I twist and rip his arm completely off, blood spurting everywhere as I toss his arm aside. I grab his head from behind, lifting it before I smash his face into the ground repeatedly until I hear the crack I was looking for. Confirming what I heard, I twisted his head 180 degrees so I could see his bashed nose and pressed in the forehead, blood spilling from his nose and eyes.
I get up, wiping the blood and dirt off my clothes and face. When I turn around, Rage is standing at the entrance of the room smiling. Then he does something I wasn’t expecting. He motions the rest of the hybrids towards me, giving them orders to kill me. What happened next came and went all in a blur. My body, seeming to move on its own, weaving in and out of the horde, punching and tossing hybrids as I went. Any attacks that they landed on me didn’t register as I mowed them down one by one, blasting them away, ripping off body parts, or frying them until their ashen black. The motion takes over until there's only one left standing. He looks at me, and for the first time, a member of this group of hybrids shows emotion. I lunge at him, smashing his face into the wall. And for a second, it was as if I could smell his fear.
“Tell me hybrid. Do you fear me?” giving him a cold-hearted smile before sending volts of electricity through his body.
Usually, things like this would freak me out, all this blood and killing, but recently ever since my fight with Cain, there's been this switch that turns on whenever I’m fighting seriously. One that turns me into a fighting machine and makes all sense of reason and compassion go out the window, making me only focus on the fight and winning no matter what. I toss the last remaining hybrid aside, surveying my work. One’s body is close to the wall and practically black from being charred. The hole in his chest is the darkest part. Two lays on the ground, his arm twisted off a few feet away, with his head twisted backward. The rest of the bodies were scattered amongst the room, some having heads ripped off, others having one or multiple body parts ripped off, some were shocked so much they’re beyond recognition. The one thing that remained the same through all the bodies was death was quickly served. But instead of feeling guilty, I felt something that I never in a hundred years would’ve felt in a moment like this. Relief, specifically pleasure. The happiness washed over me as I stood there admiring my work, bodies scattered around, mutilated and murdered. I turn around as I hear clapping from one end of the room and when I look, Rage is leaning against the wall, as he praises what I’ve done. I stand there, blood-soaked in my hands and clothes with part of it being charred.
“Well done. I didn’t think you had it in you but I guess the ‘Boss’ was right. You are fit to be the new Sin of Rage.”
As I stand there confused, yet somewhat amused, Rage orders new staff to clean up the bodies and the mess. While we wait for the room to be cleaned, Rage starts explaining why I am the perfect fit for Rage.
“All Sins have this It factor. That one thing that separates us from the rest of humanity. You might’ve realized over time, but whenever you’re in battle, you get this surge of energy. This desire to fight like no other, correct?”
Looking at him I knew he was right. Especially recently my fights have been more and more enraged.
“Yeah, it started a while back, but it took hold when I fought Cain.”
Turning his head back to me, he seems interested, as if waiting for me to go on.
“Well, I got into an argument with him that turned into a fight because instead of helping me and my friend, he just decided to watch us get our ass kicked and left us nearly on the brink of death.”
For some reason Rage didn’t seem too surprised, merely yawning as we waited for the cleanup.
“Well, what triggered your strength? How did you know that was the turning point?”
“There was this voice inside me that called out. Offering more power and strength as long as I didn’t stop.”
Rage looked at me smiling. He went on to explain how that voice was the voice of Rage. The original Sin of Rage helps and guides future holders of the Sin until they’re fully trained. He said for him it took about 3 serious fights for the voice to go away, but for me, it might’ve gone away after what I just did here. As he was explaining, I started to feel nauseous as the fog of rage cleared from my head, bringing back my senses and emotion. Luckily they were almost done with the clean-up, such fast maids, but I still saw stains of blood and body parts scattered amongst the room. I tried to hide my nausea but Rage seemed to notice and motioned for one of the maids to take me to my room. He congratulated me on my work, but I was too focused on the horror of what I did. Making my way back to my room, I ignored Sebas who was waiting for me inside, and rushed to the bathroom where I vomited until I couldn’t anymore. Sitting on the bathroom floor I think about what I just did, all those people I killed so effortlessly. I realize the best way to get rid of this guilt is just to sleep it off, so I get up and hop onto my bed. As I stare at the ceiling my mind shifts to what Rage said, about how the voice is supposed to guide me to be the next Sin.
“If you’re out their voice! It’s me Ethan, and I could use your help!”
My eyes suddenly feel heavy and sleep takes over as I see a mysterious woman appear before me wearing a red dress that flows around her.
“Welcome, Ethan. Please sit. We have much to discuss.”