There were a hundred and fourteen of them. Each of them, Instructor Zephyr commanded brusquely, would square up with a colleague of the same sex. Then they would beat each other into submission with their bare hands.

Blunt weapons would be introduced in later sessions.

The authority to end a match resided only in the person of the Instructor. Bar his speaking the magic word to "HALT!", a match would go on, no matter if either or both fighters were maimed or killed.

Rewards were clear-cut. Winners would receive more food. Losers would either receive less or go hungry, depending on the Instructor's mood (read: his assessment of the relevant match).

'Dog Balls' Betelgeuse stood at the edge of the rectangular demarcation, his arms folded across his front pouch, his attention fully absorbed into the match.

'Shit-Eater' Gombrovich faced 'Sino-Simian' Guo Xun. Instructor Zephyr, having completed his latest round of browbeating (and appellation-giving pursuant to that peculiar nomenclature), stood several paces adjacent to the combatants.

Gombrovich may have been thick, but it was unlikely that a neutral observer would consider him weak. The man was built like a bear, noted Betelgeuse. He adopted the standard neutral wrestling stance of the Agni-chordate school, spine and knees bent, shoulders down, head up, eyes peeled.

His opponent in contrast was compact and lean. Impressive cliffs of muscle rippled down Guo Xun's bare forearms, and Betelgeuse thought he could see bunched serrations pop out of the man's deltoids. Guo Xun remained upright, adopting a vaguely Sinic stance which Betelgeuse could not place.

The command was given and the two circled each other once, then twice.

Instructor Zephyr remained still, his entire attention absorbed by the movements of his charges, his eyeballs gliding to-and-fro within their sockets.

The first exchange of blows occurred without telegraph. Guo Xun initiated the attack, whipping his right fist out at Gombrovich's head, only to be sidestepped. The latter grabbed at the forearm of the offending fist, barely managing to grip the retreating wrist.

Guo Xun brought his left fist to bear, smashing it into the side of Gombrovich's chest and earning for his efforts a muffled groan. Gombrovich released his grip, and the two parted.

'He hit it too hard. Looks like Guo Xun might have winged the front pouch and hit Gombrovich's Incunabulum instead. He may have hurt himself,' thought Betelgeuse.

Betelgeuse heard something like a retch come from his side. Edith again. He turned to regard her, only to see that she had turned away to the far side, as if attempting to shield her eyes.

"Don't be too obvious about it. The instruction was to observe," Betelgeuse whispered.

It took Edith several seconds to regain her bearings.

Seconds turned to minutes. The second and third exchanges of blows came and went in much the same fashion, with Guo Xun initiating and Gombrovich attempting and failing a counterattack.

The fourth exchange came snapping on the heels of the third; seeing that Gombrovich's guard had fallen, Guo Xun whipped out his left fist, aiming at his opponent's jaw; with admirable reflexes Gombrovich snapped his head around and brought his forehead down on the fist, smashing it in. Guo Xun barely showed any pain. Undeterred, he brought his left shin whipping around, scoring a vicious blow on Gombrovich's left thigh, then smashing his damaged left fist into the side of Gombrovich's elbow joint. A sickening crack resounded and Gombrovich yelled in pain, retreating backward. Guo Xun pressed the attack, his face scrunched up in a rictus of fury as he let fly a flurry of strikes.

He's focusing on building up damage to Gombrovich's left side.

Gombrovich gritted his teeth and retreated. Betelgeuse could sense fear in his movement. At the crucial moment, Guo Xun released a wicked roundhouse from his right, smashing it into Gombrovich's swelling elbow, earning another scream. Gombrovich tumbled over backward.

Guo Xun grunted in rage, bearing down on Gombrovich and raising his left fist, intent on hammering it into Gombrovich's mangled elbow.

It happened suddenly. At the last moment, as Guo Xun was advancing, the Shit-Eater whipped his foot up and smashed him in the chin with such force that he was sent nigh on flying.

Bits of discolored enamel littered the floor, a gift from Guo Xun's ailing teeth. Audible gasps were extracted from the audience.

But Guo Xun was not done. Snarling through bloody gums, he regained his footing and set upon Gombrovich like a wild animal.

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'The man's bent on destroying his own hand,' Betelgeuse chortled inwardly.

Clearly, Guo Xun's Increment had something to do with anger or aggression. Either the man was using this to his advantage, or he couldn't control it.

To Betelgeuse' knowledge, personality changes were the norm in respect of Ash grades, and though wide-ranging physical mutations were the province of the White Incunabula, it was both plausible and highly likely that Ash Incunabula manifested physically.

From another point of view (i.e., those who rejected mind-body duality), all personality changes were really physical changes, since the relevant alteration would have to occur within the brain and/or neural pathways to manifest as a personality change in the first place.

In this case, it was plausible that Guo Xun's bloodlust was related to such a personality change.

If I were to guess, his Increment's power clause should read something like "... his actions become violent/belligerent]".

This was his conclusion based on a passing familiarity with the (possibly obsolete) information he had gleaned from the E-Zeta library, buttressed by his experience arbitraging Ash grade research information on the black market. After all, the quality of the research information he had trafficked in was a crucial factor in determining the ultimate price-range he had to work within. To this end, he had spent many late nights poring through interminable academic and technical discussions on related subjects.

But the fact was that his conclusion was nothing more than educated guesswork. There were glaring holes in his knowledge—for example, he did not know of any instances of single-word Increments. That is, except for his own.

Will-to-Power.

Betelgeuse was jolted from his thoughts by the pitiful sound of begging. He focused his attention back on the match and saw that Gombrovich was on his knees, left arm hanging uselessly, right arm covering a bloody nose.

"P-please… I give up… I give up!"

Instructor Zephyr gave no indication that he was going to end the match. He watched on coldly, as if observing the outcome of an experiment.

Guo Xun, gums bleeding through pursed lips, right fist raised, struggled internally with his own bloodlust. He looked askance at the Instructor, as if fishing for justification.

"Please, I am done, I can't take any—" Gombrovich whimpered.

"Continue," Instructor Zephyr interpolated.

With a furious yell, Guo Xun charged Gombrovich, his expression one of wanton abandon. Betelgeuse snuck a surreptitious glance at Edith—now crouched in a fetal position, she had jammed her fingers in her ears and blood was streaming down her pale and slender forearms.

Betelgeuse almost missed the crucial moment. Gombrovich had suddenly snapped his knees straight, aiming a powerful kick at Guo Xun's ankle that swept his feet out from under him. Guo Xun, yelling incoherently and completely given in to the anger, was not in the state of mind to react.

They were on the ground now and squirming violently. With incredible athleticism, Gombrovich sidled snake-like into position, using his damaged arm as leverage to whip himself around and with his other arm catching Guo Xun in a shoulder lock.

The pain must be incredible.

Then, he pressed with his right shoulder, and with a sickening pop wrenched Guo Xun's right arm straight out of its socket. Guo Xun yelled in pain and struggled harder, but found that the principle of leverage was not so easily repudiated.

'Curious,' thought Betelgeuse. 'I was sure Guo Xun had this. The value of a clear head cannot be gainsaid. … I can't say for sure what kind of Increment Gombrovich was gifted—analytical enhancements, perhaps? No, that would border on Bronze grade. Calmness is more likely.'

"HALT!" Instructor Zephyr barked.

"He's… still struggling sir," Gombrovich returned meekly.

With a swiftness that belied his size, Zephyr leaned down and pinched Guo Xun's neck, the latter settling into quietude almost immediately.

Betelgeuse blinked. It looked like Guo Xun had lost consciousness. 'Hollow is more like it! Zephyr pinched a vein, probably, with incredible speed. '

As Gombrovich rolled away and picked himself up, Betelgeuse thought he detected in that expression a touch of mirth. Nothing of the previous trepidation or pusillanimity had remained.

"Come in, Medicae. Support for two personnel. Time allocation—one hour," Zephyr spoke into his wrist transceiver, a watch-like object colored so dark it blended in with his garb.

A fresh portal materialized at the far end of the space. Two lab-coated teams, each of them bearing a stretcher, rushed out into the 'arena' to courier the combatants away.

The teams had just loaded Guo Xun's unconscious body onto a stretcher and indicated the other to Gombrovich, when the latter held his right hand out and smiled, telling them there was no need and that he preferred to walk.

Betelgeuse looked at the scene thoughtfully. The injuries the combatants had suffered were far from minor. Even with advanced medical technology, it would take a whole day for ruptured flesh and damaged ligaments to heal. As for broken bones, that could take anywhere between three days to a month, depending on severity. That they were only allocated one hour meant that any injuries sustained during combat would become a severe hindrance as the days wore on.

It was crucial to minimize, as far as possible, the injuries sustained during this first exercise.

"Sir!" a female voice deep with urgency interrupted his train of thought.

"Identify yourself!" Instructor Zephyr whipped his body around. His face tended to stay strangely still, Betelgeuse had noticed, notwithstanding his rather belligerent manner. Like a mask.

"Frederica Jaine, sir! I need to piss, sir!"

"My god, a god damn dyke if I ever saw one! The ladies' is behind the pillar—do not, for the love of god, tell me you piss out a dick!"

"No sir!"

But the Instructor had already turned away.