A few days had passed. Bread was the same as always—unresponsive except for a few nods and shakes.

He’d soon realized that the man was no threat. Except for a few irritated glares, he was never really harmed. The anger that he could almost feel emanating off the man wasn’t ever directed towards him either. In a way, he kind of felt intangible. Like he was still there, but nobody was actually seeing him. And eventually, even basic interactions eased. The man had clearly given up on him.

After a while, the man left him to his devices, only coming every few hours to drop off paltry plates of breakfast and glasses of water. He never came otherwise. Not even for lunch or dinner.

But that was fine.

In Bread’s spare time, which he had plenty of now, he tinkered with the interactive walls and watched TV, cycling through various channels of movies and sports programs. None of it was actually quite as entertaining as watching the birds flying past his window though. But that all changed one day when he came across a certain channel—

Cybernetic Boxing International.

He didn’t like it at first. It was bloody, disgusting. People were throwing up so much. Violence. There was so much violence. And yet… he couldn’t move away. Was it his morbid curiosity? Or was it because he had been starved of anything interesting? He didn’t know, but he started to watch it more and more. Like a habit, a daily ritual of sorts.

Every morning before breakfast, he’d watch it. It was now routine. And every single time, he’d feel that queasiness clogging his throat, his nostrils crinkling with every punch thrown. It was still grotesque even after seeing it for the fifth time. He didn’t know why he kept watching. It was the same thing over and over again—same hits, same strikes. He didn’t know why… until he found her…

Valkyrie.

Jab, jab, right hook… His mind started to fill with new information. Slip, roll… The woman who was half the size of her opponent jumped back and forth almost taunting the opponent to throw a shot.

Her opponent, a hulking, metallic figure with arms as thick as her torso, took the bait. He shot punches with speeds that should’ve been impossible, and yet, Valkyrie dodged them all. Each and every swing missed. Her feet twisted and turned like a snake; she bounced around the ring, dipping in and out, dashing just out of his reach. With each step, a punch followed—a jab to the chest, an uppercut to the chin, a hook to the ribs from all the wrong places.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Bread could visibly see the opponent slowing down, faltering with every missed swing. He was wearing out. Bread could tell from the breathing—the heaving of his chest. He didn’t have much left in his tank.

“Valkyrie…” Bread whispered under his breath. Her movements were so elegant, swift and flowy like silk. It was like he was watching someone perform ballet. No, that wasn’t it. What did it resemble? Waves? No. Wind? No, it was more like—

A bird soaring through the sky…

A final shot echoed through the stadium. The mammoth of a man finally crumbled to his knees as an ear-piercing bell signaled the end of the fight. The wild crowd started chanting a name fiercely across the stadium—

“VAL-KY-RIE! VAL-KY-RIE! VAL-KY-RIE!”

Bread was caught in the moment. It was as if he were there, cheering her on with the others. He felt relief, joy. He was happy. For the first time, he was actually genuinely happy.

It’d be amazing, he thought, to fly. Maybe he could do it too? Like her—Valkyrie. Maybe he could be out in the open again, prancing through the night. Like her, he’d escape this place…

“What are you watching?” A familiar voice—cold but commanding. Shivers ran down Bread’s back. “Boxing…?” There was a slight tonal change, a momentary pause in his speech. It was a signal for annoyance—a negative emotion.

Bread looked up. It was the man. “U-um—”

“What are you watching?” he repeated. His brows furrowed like deep, jagged cliffs. The tray of food that he’d brought held in place, hovering frozen in the air. “Look me in the eyes and answer the question.”

The boxing post-interview played in the background. Bread could hear Valkyrie’s voice cutting through his nerves. He looked from the screen to the man. The man looked angry. What did he do wrong?

“Are you just going to stand there?”

Bread averted his gaze.

The man sighed. “Are you afraid? Of me? When you’re the one watching that?”

“I-I want to leave.” He watched the screen—the interview was finally wrapping up. If he could get out of here… maybe he could watch Valkyrie fight again.

“I told you before. You can’t.”

“Why?” He finally faced the man before him who coldly stared him back. He just didn’t get it. He hated every second of this place. He wanted to get out. He wanted to fly, be free…

The man turned to glimpse at the remaining few seconds of the interview. Then he ignored Bread altogether. “I can see you’re ready to talk. We’ll resume testing tomorrow. Eat.” He pushed the tray of food towards him. “You’ll need it. And don’t watch that.” He nodded towards the screen. “I won’t say it twice.”

“Boxing?”

“Yes. Boxing.”

“Why?”

“You and your questions.” He shook his head. “Did I tell you to ask why?”

Bread remained silent.

“Good,” the man said. Then he got up. “You’re finally learning.” He took one last glance at the screen before heading out.

The door slammed shut behind him.