image [https://i.imgur.com/aMFRS3Z.png]
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The dilapidated police station stood before Fii, casting a long shadow across the dusty street. Her eyes roved over the broken windows and weather-worn doors, noting the faded lettering on the exterior. As she approached the entrance, she hesitated. Could she really do this?
Fii recalled Virgil's cryptic warning and Edith's encouragement. She wanted to make a difference in the slums, no matter what the cost. Yet, the thought of learning from the notorious Backfire made her nervous.
As she stood before the door, a voice rang out in the stillness. "Coming or not?"
She turned to see Virgil standing near an alleyway, a cigarette in his hand and a smirk on his lips. Fii gave him a curt nod, striding forward with as much confidence as she could muster.
The door swung open with a creak, revealing the darkened interior of the station. As she stepped inside, her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, taking in the dust-covered furniture and graffiti-covered walls. A small beam of sunlight filtered through the boarded-up windows, illuminating a stack of moldy cardboard boxes and an old desk. The station had clearly been abandoned for quite some time.
Even through her cyber helmet, Fii wrinkled her nose at the musty smell, resisting the urge to cough.
Virgil nudged Fii forward. "Welcome to your new training grounds, kiddo."
"Looks cozy," Fii muttered sarcastically.
Virgil walked past, trailing smoke behind him. He sat down in a worn office chair and gestured for Fii to do the same. She complied, pulling out another seat from beneath a desk covered in cobwebs.
With a slight hesitation, Fii unclasped her cyber helmet and pulled it off her head. Her short, white hair spilled out, and she tucked it behind her ears, smoothing out the tangles. She set the helmet down on the table, glancing nervously at Virgil.
Despite the grime and dirt, the man projected a sense of calm authority. He removed a pack of cigarettes from his coat and offered her one, "Smoke?"
"No thanks, not my thing," Fii replied, waving him off.
He shrugged and pulled out a lighter, touching the flame to the end of his cigarette. Taking a long drag, he exhaled a puff of smoke into the stale air. "You wanna make a real difference in this hellhole we call home?" He regarded Fii with a steady gaze. "You gotta commit."
Fii stared back, refusing to back down. "I'm committed."
Virgil smirked and leaned forward, gesturing to his eyes with two fingers. "Gotta commit with your eyes, your ears, and your heart. You can't lie to me, kid. I've been around long enough to see through bullshit."
"I'm not bullshitting you," Fii shot back. "I've got what it takes."
He man shook his head. "You got moxie, I'll give you that. But that ain't enough. You gotta want it more than anything else. It has to be all-consuming." He tapped his temple with his index finger. "It has to live in here." He placed his hand over his heart, tapping his chest lightly. "And in here, too. You understand what I'm saying?"
"Sure," Fii agreed. "That's why I'm here."
Virgil's expression remained unchanged, his gaze piercing into Fii. "Show me."
"Huh?"
Virgil crushed the remains of his cigarette against the table and stood, his chair screeching against the floorboards. "Let's go for a walk." He turned and started walking towards a hallway.
Fii scrambled to her feet, grabbing her helmet and placing it back on her head. "Where are we going?"
"To the training grounds," Virgil replied over his shoulder, his pace unwavering.
As they passed a broken window, Fii caught sight of her reflection in the glass. The LED eyes on her visor stared back, reflecting light like twin blue stars. The sight still unnerved her, though she had grown accustomed to seeing it during the few weeks.
"Quit dawdling, girl." Virgil called from further ahead. Fii quickened her pace, jogging after him as he disappeared through an archway.
The back of the police building led into a secluded courtyard, enclosed by a rusted chain-link fence. The ground was cracked and uneven, littered with trash and debris. A pile of tires and scrap metal occupied the corner, rusting away in the sun.
In the center of the space was a ring of concrete, marked by white chalk and a crudely drawn target.
Virgil gestured to it with a flourish. "Impressive, isn't it?" He winked at Fii. "This is where we'll be training. It's not much, but it works."
Fii surveyed the area, trying to hide her disappointment. The training ground was sparse, to say the least. Compared to what Edith had managed to scrounge up at that other building, this was practically a dump.
"There's no equipment, no weapons... Where's the training stuff?" She glanced at Virgil quizzically.
Virgil grinned. "In your brain, sweetheart."
"I told you not to call me that, remember?" Fii bristled at his casual dismissal.
"Right, sorry. Fii. Or Axion. Take your pick." He waved a hand dismissively. "Now, before we begin, there are a few ground rules. Rule number one, do whatever I tell you. If I tell you to do something, you do it. End of story. No questions, no complaints. Understand?"
Fii frowned, "I'm not sure—"
"Rule number two," Virgil interrupted, cutting her off mid-sentence. "You will address me as 'sir'. Is that clear?"
"Uh, yes, sir." Fii muttered reluctantly. This guy was really getting on her nerves.
"Rule number three. Always tell me the truth. Honesty is crucial in this line of work. Any questions?"
"What exactly are we training for, sir?" Fii inquired.
He considered her question, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "For starters, I need to teach you some basic combat skills. I've seen your fights, and I can tell you're raw, untrained, and unskilled. Your approach is sloppy, to say the least. In the end, you rely on your power to carry you through. While that's effective against most of the scum living here, it won't work against someone more skilled. You're a liability to yourself, kid."
"Are you saying my fighting sucks, sir?" Fii scowled, feeling offended.
He shrugged. "About as bad as your average crook."
Fii crossed her arms defensively.
Virgil held up a hand. "Hold on a second, I'm not done. While you lack experience, you show some promise. Your athleticism and determination are unquestionable, and you've demonstrated that you're able to adjust and adapt to changing circumstances. That's important in a fight."
His words caught Fii off-guard. Was he... complimenting her? It certainly seemed like it, judging by the way he spoke. She was about to thank him when he added, "Of course, I can tell you've never trained properly in your life until Edith picked you up. That ends now."
Fii felt the blood rush to her cheeks in embarrassment. Of course, he had to ruin the moment by insulting her. Why did he always have to be so condescending? She bit back an angry retort, choosing instead to remain silent.
Virgil continued, "So, I'm going to show you how to handle yourself physically, without relying on your power. You're a metahuman anyway so you're already stronger, faster, and more agile than normal humans. Let's build upon that. Oh, and you'll also need to learn how to fight dirty."
"Dirty, sir?" Fii asked.
"Yup, dirty. The first lesson you need to learn is that in a real fight, the objective is to win. It doesn't matter how you accomplish that goal, as long as you succeed. Ethics and morality play no role. Only survival matters. Now, are you ready to start?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good," Virgil smiled. "Let's begin."
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The following week, Fii stood in the middle of the training grounds, her fists raised defensively. Her bodysuit was covered in dust and sweat, and her legs ached from the constant strain. She'd spent hours sparring with Virgil, and he'd yet to break a sweat.
He paced back and forth in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back. "Keep your elbows in, and rotate your wrists slightly. Good. Now, jab!" He barked.
Fii obeyed, thrusting her left fist forward. Virgil swatted aside her attack effortlessly and circled her, his eyes scanning her form intently.
"Elbows," he chided, slapping her sharply across the upper arm. She flinched at the impact and lowered her arms. "Relax," he ordered. "Loosen those shoulders."
She obeyed, loosening her shoulders and dropping her elbows slightly.
Virgil nodded, "Better. Now, let's go again. Jab!"
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
She threw another punch, and Virgil parried it aside.
He lunged forward, catching her off-balance. Before she could react, he grabbed her wrist, twisted it sharply, and pinned her arm behind her back. In one fluid motion, he spun her around, sending her crashing to the ground. The wind rushed from her lungs, and her vision blurred.
Her right knee throbbed in pain from where it had struck the hard, concrete ground.
"Get up," Virgil commanded, releasing her and stepping back. "Remember, when you throw a punch, keep your elbow bent slightly and rotate your hips forward as you extend your arm. You can't telegraph your movements if you keep your torso centered."
Fii stumbled to her feet, gasping for breath. "Can I take a break, sir?" She pleaded.
Virgil arched an eyebrow, "No."
She groaned inwardly but kept her composure, rolling her shoulders and shaking out her arms. She took a deep breath, preparing to repeat the exercise. "Ready, sir."
He nodded and began circling her once more. "Jab."
She threw a series of rapid punches, punctuating each movement with a sharp grunt. Virgil blocked and deflected her attacks, matching her pace. As they fought, Fii's frustration grew. He never seemed to get tired, never broke a sweat, and he always had some snarky comment to make. She clenched her jaw, her anger fueling her strikes.
Eventually, she lost her composure and lunged forward, aiming a clumsy right hook at his face. Virgil sidestepped the blow, catching her fist and using her momentum to throw her into the ground. She landed hard on her back, knocking the wind from her lungs.
He placed his boot on her stomach and leaned over, fixing her with a stern glare. "Never let your emotions get the better of you. Anger makes you sloppy, and sloppiness gets you killed."
Fii pushed his leg aside and climbed to her feet, biting her tongue to avoid arguing. As she stood, she noticed Virgil studying her closely. He nodded approvingly and stepped back. "That's enough for today. Rest up. We'll resume tomorrow at the usual time." With that, he turned and headed back to the station.
Fii watched him leave, fuming internally. This was ridiculous. The old bastard was making her do laps around the block, run up and down the building, and he had her punching targets for hours on end—and he wasn't even letting her use her powers.
She'd been at this for a week now, and she was starting to grow exhausted from the relentless drilling. Virgil didn't seem to care. In fact, he seemed to relish her discomfort. She grit her teeth and squatted to the ground, forcing herself to do fifty pushups. After finishing the set, she rolled over and lay in the dust, staring up at the sky.
It was already midday, and she hadn't eaten yet. Her stomach growled painfully. With a sigh, she sat upright and dusted herself off, ignoring the throbbing ache in her joints and muscles. This was going to be a long day.
After a few minutes, she followed after him. He stood in the office area of the police station, cleaning his pistol methodically. Even when it looked pristine, he kept working at it.
Weird guy.
Fii found a plastic bottle of water and chugged half of it in a single gulp. The cold liquid soothed her dry throat, and she sighed contentedly. "When can I use my power again, sir?" She asked tentatively. "You know, for combat."
"Soon," he answered without looking up. "You have to build a proper foundation first."
"I know that," she pressed on, undeterred. "But when?"
"When I deem you ready," he replied, finally glancing her way. "Until then, focus on the basics. Stamina, footwork, technique. Once you've mastered those, we can move on to the advanced stuff."
Fii couldn't hide the frustration in her tone. "This is going to take forever."
"Life is full of hardship and suffering, kid," Virgil stated matter-of-factly. "Nothing worth doing is ever easy. Isn't there a saying around these parts: 'scrap today, shine tomorrow?'" He finished polishing the pistol and flicked open the cylinder, examining the chambers. Satisfied, he closed the revolver with a resounding click and holstered the weapon.
"Yeah, yeah... scrap today, shine tomorrow," Fii recited dutifully. "Got it. Sir."
Virgil grunted and gave a terse nod, turning to walk away. "I'll be back in a bit. Stay here. Make yourself useful." He disappeared into the shadows of the adjacent room.
Fii stared blankly at the place where he'd been a moment before, then shrugged. Maybe she'd just practice some kicks while he was gone. At the very least, she could take a break and stretch out her sore muscles. She turned to wander around the abandoned station, exploring its corners.
The wooden floorboards creaked softly beneath her weight, and she traced the pattern of peeling paint with her fingertips as she wandered aimlessly through the building. She hasn't had a proper tour of the place yet, preferring to stick close to where they were practicing. The dust coated everything, including herself, leaving streaks of gray across her bodysuit.
A sudden crash startled her from her thoughts, and she whirled to face the source of the noise. A rat scurried past, fleeing from its hiding spot in a broken cabinet. She exhaled sharply and relaxed. Rats. Ugh. The creepy little bastards scared the crap out of her sometimes. They were everywhere in the slums, especially in these abandoned buildings.
Fii shuddered and continued along the hallway, opening each door carefully and peeking inside. She discovered an old supply closet, a locker room, and an interrogation room with a dusty one-way mirror. Everything else appeared to be offices and storage areas.
The entire station smelled faintly of mold and mildew, and the air itself seemed thick and heavy, making it difficult to breathe. If it wasn't for her helmet, she probably would've had to hold her nose the whole time. How could Virgil stand being cooped up in here?
In the distance, she spied a set of stairs leading to a lower level. Curiosity piqued, Fii descended the steps cautiously, reaching the bottom in short order. The basement was pitch-black, and she blinked rapidly, adjusting her vision to the dark. Her helmet could have provided her with night vision, but she tapped the side to turn the feature off. She still found it weird to see everything through a green filter.
As the ambient light intensified, she spotted a row of jail cells lining the far wall, each barred with solid iron bars.
The floor was bare concrete, and the ceiling hung low, supported by thick beams overhead. Some kind of machinery loomed in the darkness, hidden in shadow. Fii crept closer, peering into the nearest cell.
It was empty, save for a rusted metal cot and a filthy toilet. A cobweb-covered ventilation grate stuck out from the far wall, its metal mesh covered in a thin layer of dust. Fii brushed aside a strand of webbing with her gloved hand and peered into the vent, blinking as she tried to see through the gloom. It looked like an ordinary ventilation duct, but she couldn't be certain. Something about the place gave her the chills.
"What are you doing?" A familiar voice called out behind her.
Fii jumped, nearly hitting her head on the top of the ventilation duct. She turned to see Virgil leaning against the far wall, watching her intently. "Sir! You startled me..." she explained, steadying herself.
Virgil walked over, hands in his pockets. "This is where people kept the prisoners, back in the old days." He gazed around, surveying the room. "Been a while since anyone's been here. Me included. Almost forgot this place existed."
"It's kinda creepy, don't you think?" Fii remarked, taking a step back.
He shrugged, "It's just a basement. Nothing to be afraid of. Come on, I'll show you something cool." He beckoned her forward, leading the way deeper into the depths.
Virgil led her down a narrow corridor, his footsteps echoing against the stone floor. His pace was brisk, and he didn't say anything as they walked.
The tunnel opened into a large room lit by a fluorescent light hanging from a cord in the center of the ceiling. There were several filing cabinets lined against the wall, their drawers labeled with faded letters. The walls themselves were covered with maps, charts, and notes pinned to the faded wallpaper.
In the corner was a cluttered desk, overflowing with papers and books. Fii scanned the area, wondering what all of this meant. It was clearly a workspace of sorts, but for whom?
Virgil crossed his arms and stared at her expectantly, "Well? What do you think?"
"Um...I'm still waiting to see the cool thing, sir."
"Your eyes. Look around. And knock it off with saying 'sir' all the time. We're not training right now," He replied, gesturing for her to continue inspecting the room.
Fii examined the room more thoroughly, noticing that almost every surface was covered with notes and diagrams. It seemed that every inch of available space had been used to record some piece of information. Everywhere she looked, she saw words scribbled in ink, alongside sketches of maps and diagrams of mechanical parts. Several equations filled one entire wall, their contents indecipherable to her.
"Is this Edith's secret hideout?" Fii asked hesitantly.
Virgil snorted, "You think Edith hangs out here? Nah, she's got her own digs elsewhere. This is what the cops used to call their 'think tank'."
"Huh," she mused, wandering over to the desk and leafing through a stack of papers lying atop the heap. Most of the writing was illegible, but every now and then, she came across a phrase or sentence that she could make out. Many of them concerned gang activities or the rise in violence throughout the district.
"So they really did try and clean the place up?" Fii turned to him.
He nodded gravely. "Back in the day, the slums weren't such a shithole. It was a thriving city, just like any other at the time. But after the metropolis was built, all the wealth and attention flowed outta here, and it became a ghost town almost overnight. The police force shrank, corruption took root, and everyone pretty much gave up. Those who could afford it abandoned their roots for a slice of prosperity in the shiny new city. Those who couldn't...well, they got left behind."
Fii had only known the slums as they existed now. It was strange to imagine a time when things had been different. She ran a finger over a tattered page, tracing a line of text. "Doesn't the metropolis care about us at all?" She wondered aloud.
"Not particularly," Virgil snorted derisively. "They care enough to appease their guilt and to ensure the slums remain standing. Ain't nothing more than a ghetto for undesirables. Everyone who lives here is an unwanted, or a reject of some sort. Outcasts, refugees, vagabonds, orphans..." He trailed off, gazing at her. "Like you and me, kid."
"You lived in the city, didn't you? Before?" She asked. "Were you exiled or something?"
Virgil fixed her with a cold stare. "We'll talk more about that later. But let's just say I got mixed up in politics, and they kicked my ass to the curb."
Fii nodded. She figured as much, based on Edith's earlier hints. It would explain his cryptic nature and general distrust of authority. "Do you miss it?"
"Miss what, kid?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Being a part of the city?"
Virgil smirked humorlessly. "Sometimes. And other times, I feel like I dodged a bullet." He shook his head slowly, staring at the floor. "Let's head on out before I start rambling on about how fucked up the world is."
Fii folded the paper neatly and tucked it back amongst the others.
Looked like she dodged a bullet as well. He could have gone on for hours rambling if she'd let him. "All right, bossman," she acknowledged, mustering her energy.
Virgil motioned for her to follow and headed back out of the basement. As they walked, she thought she saw a hint of sadness in his eyes, reflected by the dim light. But he moved away too quickly for her to be sure.
As they walked up the stairs, a sudden thought occurred to her. "Hey, um...I've been meaning to ask." She stopped halfway and turned to face him directly. "Does this place have a name?"
Virgil paused mid-step. "A name?" He glanced back at her curiously.
Fii shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Yeah, I mean, every place has a name, right? So, does this police station have one, too?"
He stared at her for a moment longer before his lips curled upward into a lopsided grin. "The Vigil."
Fii blinked. "The Virgil?"
"No, not my name, ya moron. The Vigil!" He said emphatically, emphasizing the word.
Fii scrunched up her face, confused. The LED eyes on her visor narrowed skeptically. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Vigil. It means 'watching,' or 'observing,'" he explained, continuing his ascent. "Someone keeping watch over the city, making sure everyone stays in line."
"Huh, the Vigil," Fii repeated, rolling the word over her tongue. It sounded awfully like his name. "Wait...did you come up with it?"
"You got a problem with it?" Virgil shot back defensively. "I liked the sound of it."
"Nah, it's not bad." Fii replied as they reached the ground floor. "It's just gonna sound weird whenever I say 'I'll be at The Vigil training with Virgil' or whatever."
He laughed, and she sensed genuine mirth in his voice. "Fair enough, but I'm not changing it. Anyways, get some food and rest. You got more training ahead of ya. Same time tomorrow."