She took me through the doors at the back of the warehouse, into what looked like a long hallway with rooms on either side. She walked toward the third door on the right, opening it and gesturing for me to walk in.
I entered what was basically a miniaturized version of the exercise warehouse—almost the exact same floor and walls, though this one lacked windows. Weapons lined the far wall, with a door right next to the rack. I saw various boxing bags and other training equipment, with a large mat covering the center of the room.
“I’ll show you a drill and expect you to perfect it before I teach you another. I’ll try to get another Lieutenant in so you can test your abilities more, but for now—what do you know about fighting? Do you know what a one-two is? A double leg? A rear naked choke?” she asked, walking into the center of the room.
“Uhm, I know the one-two is the most basic boxing combination. No idea about the rest,” I said.
Her eyes widened as she turned to me. “I see you know something about boxing, at least. Do you know how to throw a kick?”
“Like kicking a soccer ball? Yeah, I know how to do that. How hard could it be to kick someone in the face?” I replied confidently.
She actually laughed at me. She looked down and put her hands on her hips. “Alright, tough guy. I see we have a lot to learn. For now, can you tell me the difference between a suppressor and a muzzle brake?” she asked with a smile—a genuine, humorous smile.
She smiled at me the way the sisters used to, full of affection. It felt strange, and I almost wiped it off her face but decided to let it go.
“Uh, one’s a suppressor, and the other’s a muzzle brake?” I retorted, clueless.
“Well, you’re not wrong,” she said, laughing again. “Alright, get into a boxing stance. Let’s perfect what you do know and work from there.”
I tried to mimic what I’d seen on the TVs in Goudstad, putting one leg back and raising both hands in front of my face. I felt proud of my little stance until I saw her expression shift from smiling to disappointed.
“Right then. I see you know absolutely nothing. Okay. How the hell did you manage to fight six Lieutenants with no knowledge? Never mind. You’ll emulate me to the best of your ability, and then we’ll learn the one-two. If you perfect it, we’ll move on to some basic shooting drills,” she said, walking toward me. She kicked my leg back, positioned my right hand on my jaw, and adjusted my left hand slightly away from it.
“Square your hips toward me. Like so.” She demonstrated what I thought I was already doing, so I exaggerated the movement she showed. Apparently, it was good enough.
“Alright, throw a punch.”
I threw my right hand at her, imagining Lapdog—or Lieutenant Daniel, I guess I should call him. Still, Lapdog suited him better. I threw the punch as hard as I could, nearly toppling over.
“How am I supposed to fight if I can’t even stand up straight?” I grumbled, regaining my balance.
“How are you supposed to fight when you know diddly-squat about throwing a basic punch? The fact your hands aren’t broken is a miracle already. You throw a one-two with straight arms—your fist going from your jaw to the target and back again. From A to B. Nice and easy,” she said, demonstrating slowly.
“That’s a jab. You use your left hand to jab since you’re right-handed. Then, you do the same with your right hand,” she continued, showing me again. “That’s a straight. The straight is your power hand. The jab is your range finder, distance manager, and pretty much everything else. Now show me yours.”
And so, it went on like that for a few minutes. She showed me how to punch properly, even though I didn't see the “usefulness” of her techniques against the Lieutenant yesterday. Still, I kept my complaints to myself.
“Alright. Remember to keep your fist as tight as possible when hitting anything. I’ll be back in about an hour. Practice this until then. You can use the boxing bag hanging at the back,” she said, heading toward the door.
Before leaving, she turned back and spoke while leaning on the doorframe. “Oh, and Boris. There’s a camera in here, so if you decide to slack off, dawdle, or do anything else, I’ll know—and then you’ll wish you’d listened to me.”
With that, the door closed, leaving me alone in the room. I considered breaking out, but the camera made it seem like a bad idea. Sighing, I started hitting the bag as instructed.
An hour later, she returned. By then, I was drenched in sweat, out of breath, and hitting the bag with everything I had—none of it resembling her “boxing” techniques.
“Well. At least you’re enthusiastic,” she said, walking up behind me.
“But, unfortunately, that’s very incorrect.” She stood beside me as I panted and handed me a towel.
“You’ll have to train far harder than the others. They’ve spent their whole lives mastering martial arts and weaponry. You’re very far behind,” she said matter-of-factly, eyeing me like she could already see the imperfections she’d root out next.
“If finks—” I started, and her eyes went down like she was hurt again. I sighed heavily, correcting myself. “Fine. If the blessed are so much better, how come one of them couldn't stop me on the roof, even if he was three times stronger, better, and knew so much more about all this shit? And how the hell do you expect me to catch up within a month?”
“Thank you for not slurring. I wasn’t there, but if you were able to fight a blessed one-on-one before you fell, that is a miracle all by itself. Although, I've seen you fight. Your aggression is second to none, and you are cutthroat, which helps. And to answer your second question, it's simple, really. You seem to be roughly two times better than the average blessed when your dice rolls. That makes you six times stronger and faster than the average man. Do you know how much of an advantage that is? The reflexes alone make you dangerous. The world probably looks even slower after that dice roll of yours.” she said, looking away. I realized she actually enjoyed powers, thinking through them, how they're used. It was almost… cute. Like my little Yelena. Or Pasha.
“You guys look like you're half-assing everything when the dice rolls, so that makes sense. Also explains why everything seems to get so damn loud and smells so bad,” I said dismissively, walking back with her to the center of the mat.
“Your senses increase too? Damn. That's impressive. From what I’ve seen, Marnus’ ability is the strongest, Richard’s comes next, and Kate’s almost even with him. Your ability would actually be the best, especially in terms of versatility, but your restriction just makes you average for now. Although, it feels like it was practically built for the tournament. So the people I mentioned are who you should worry about if you want a chance. Alright, that gives us a lot to work with,” she said, smiling mischievously, like this would be fun.
Then a fink in black walked in, missing both sleeves rather than just one. She was about four foot five, with brown hair and a small, round face. She seemed confident but still had an air of timidity as she glanced at us, like the two of us were a room full of people she had to speak to and she would rather be anywhere else.
The Lieutenant saluted, and I sighed before doing the same. The fink in black stood up straighter, looking almost relieved.
“At ease. Hello again, Lieutenant,” she said, glancing down like Yelena did before looking up again. “I always like seeing you. Now, uhm, hello,” she added, giving me a wave.
I finger-gunned toward her as I said, “Well hello there, how's it going?”
She smiled then, the same mischievous smile that the Lieutenant had. “It's going well, thank you. You seem nice, unlike what I've heard. I believe you have a restriction on your ability?”
I glanced back at the Lieutenant, who was still suppressing her smile, before I said, “Uhm, yes? Colonel, right? My dice doesn’t roll unless I’m fighting or getting my face bashed in.”
“Right, my apologies,” she said, snapping a salute. “I am Lieutenant Galina. Nice to meet you, Boris.”
I felt bewildered, not sure what to say.
“The General herself has asked me to, well, assist you with this. You are lucky. Generally, restrictions on your ability mean it is far stronger than the rest. So that’s why I’m here—to assist you with your... restriction,” she said, not even trying to hide the smile now.
The Lieutenant snapped a salute before she walked out the door, looking back and saying, “Oh, just so you are informed, Lieutenant Galina is last year’s winner of the Ascension Tournament for B ranks. Good luck, Boris.” Then she closed the door.
“Well, congratulations. Why are you smiling like that?” I asked nervously. Was she going to turn into a giant spider and wrap me into food for her children? Wait, she might actually be able to do that. I shuddered, taking a step back. I realized I was being a coward, so I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts and walked toward her.
“I see you wish to begin immediately. Before we begin, I must apologize. I heard about yesterday. I assure you, today will be a far kinder experience,” she said as she tapped her left arm. An image of a woman blindfolded, doing fancy kicks with strings attached to every limb, appeared before her, and then her eyes went completely white.
“Your ability makes you blind? And now you wish to fight? Are you sure?” I asked skeptically, feeling bad. I didn’t want to beat a small blind woman.
Her smile grew far wider. “Oh, yes, I am sure. You may start whenever you are ready.”
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“Well, ok, I guess,” I said, ignoring the stance Lieutenant Zenzele showed me. I got ready, eyeing her. I ran toward her quickly, planning to just tackle her to the floor and then hold her there till she gave up.
When I was maybe a meter away, she just casually took half a step back. As I bent down to tackle her legs, she jumped into the air, put her hand on the back of my head, and the weight of it drove my face into the mat. Her feet landed on both of my hands as I tried to stand, immobilizing me completely.
“Did your ability activate?” she asked even as the dice rolled past her face.
“It did now,” I growled against the mat, my pride wounded.
I got up quickly as she jumped away, and she got into the same stance that Lieutenant Zenzele showed me earlier.
“Then what’s the holdup?” she asked, even as I flew toward her.
I lunged, swinging a fist at her head, but she wasn’t there. She ducked, twisted, and suddenly my own momentum nearly sent me sprawling.
And so, we fought for what felt like hours, me mostly running and trying to grab her, throwing anything I could get my hands on, and none of it mattered.
I was lying face down on the mat, panting, with her sitting on my back, both of her feet on my wrists, keeping my hands pinned next to me. She wasn't even out of breath, just sitting there, waiting for me to move. I tried to kick her with my legs, even landing one with my heel, but she just smacked the back of my head like she was chastising a child.
Finally, she slid one arm under my chin, her forearm pressing snugly against the front of my neck while the crook of her elbow framed my throat. Her other arm came up to clasp her hand firmly against her opposite bicep, and her free hand settled behind my head, locking the hold in place. Her movements were deliberate and precise, her grip secure but not overly tight.
“This is called a rear naked choke,” she said calmly. “It’s a bit unusual to apply like this without holding you down properly, but remember—this is the quickest way to make someone pass out.”
As she adjusted her hold, I felt the pressure mount. It wasn’t suffocating but a growing tightness at the sides of my neck. In seconds, the world started to blur and spin, a creeping darkness stealing the edges of my vision. Just before I faded completely, she released me and stood up, leaving me lightheaded with spots jumping in and out of my vision.
I rubbed my neck a bit as I rolled over, waiting for the world to stop doing backflips. I sat up and begrudgingly took her hand. “How are you so strong? Does it take away your eyesight and then just boost everything else? And I don't understand—you seemed slow like the rest of them, but I couldn't even touch you,” I said, bewildered that such a small girl could beat me so easily.
Her tattoo stopped glowing, and her pupils returned. She blinked like the light was too bright before looking around at the destroyed room, her eyebrows raising slowly.
“Oh, my ability doesn't make me stronger, faster, or anything like yours. In fact, I'd wager even now you might have a slight edge. Strength was never my strong suit,” she said dismissively, like that wasn't nearly as important as the carnage around her.
I wiped my forehead clean of sweat as I walked towards where I'd thrown the boxing bag at her earlier. I lugged it over my shoulder, the thing feeling far heavier than it had just ten minutes before.
“Could have fooled me. The Lieutenant said I'm supposed to be two times better than the average fink, and you just whooped my ass all over this room,” I said, walking heavily toward the wall where the bag was originally.
I glanced over my shoulder at her as she shook her head disappointedly. “God, you people really are different. Sure, strength helps, but it's not everything. My ability...” She looked down shyly before mumbling, “...makes me good at martial arts.”
“Why are you mumbling about that? And that's it? Makes you blind and then makes you good at fighting? And you expect me to believe that that,” I said with a huff, gesturing to the rest of the room, “can lead to this? Really?” I squinted at her, showing I was onto her lies.
“Okay, well, no, not just that. It makes my other senses dial up to twelve, and I feel like I gain a sixth sense—like I just know exactly what to do in any given moment to keep me alive. It’s like my body reacts before I even think.” she said, shrugging her shoulders.
“And what else? So you know what I'm going to do and how to move? No super strength, no speed or extra reflexes? You sure? Because, again, I could not touch you. How the fuck does that work?” I said, rolling my eyes, even as I started to clean up all the weapons on the rack I'd been chucking at her.
“You’re faster and stronger... Right!” she said, even as she helped me get the rack back into place while I piled the weapons next to it.
“Okay. I'm meant to tell you how to improve. So far, your reflexes are the most dangerous part of your ability by far. If you find a gun to use in the tournament, the likelihood that you can get a bullet off and kill or incapacitate your opponent when the match starts is probably your best chance. So, I think you should start looking for a gun as quickly as possible. Which is what I recommend. Under no circumstances should you get into a straight fistfight with any of your opponents,” she said, gesturing to the room like it was evidence enough of her words.
I squinted at her again. “I fought six Lieutenants. Sure, I lost. But still, I fought six of them.”
“Your aggression and grit are unmatched. I agree,” she said, nodding, before looking down again and blushing.
“And they aren't as good as me at fighting, sure. But they weren't trying to kill or maim you. And they weren't, say, motivated by the best opportunity of their entire life to beat someone in a hand-to-hand fight.” She shook her head side to side, as if to chase away the very notion that I would win a fistfight.
“So, no hand to hand. Use weapons, tactics, and trickery if you want a chance. Otherwise, you will lose.” She said that last bit with finality, like it was a foregone conclusion.
“Alright, so my ability is shit. And my only chance is to shoot them. Fantastic,” I said sarcastically.
She raised her eyebrow at that. “If you didn't have that restriction on your ability, it would be by far the best ability out of the B ranks. Do you know how many people could keep their ability active for the time you did? Maybe a handful on Kaleidos, at best. And you didn't even bat an eye for four hours.”
“You did though?” I pointed out. She just shrugged in response, like beating me and keeping up with my ability was easy. God I felt emasculated.
After a moment, she patted my shoulder awkwardly before saying, “Do not be discouraged. Your speed and reflexes, paired with a gun, mean that the likelihood of anyone even being able to move at the beginning of the match is almost zero, so I recommend you start looking for one as soon as humanly possible.”
Lieutenant Zenzele walked in after that, stopping as she saw the room. She looked around at the dents in the walls, at the empty weapon rack with most of the guns lying in a pile next to it, some of them stuck in the ceiling, and just sighed. “You know, you really do make my life difficult.”
Then she saluted Lieutenant Galina quickly. After they had the customary exchange, Lieutenant Galina turned to me and said, “I will see you every week on Friday. So, you get to see me four times before the ascension tournament. I want to see exponential improvement every time I see you. And thank you for being polite.”, and with that, she left.
“It's dinner. Next time, please watch the clock,” she gestured to a gun smashed through what used to be a clock, her hand faltering midway as she saw it. “Just next time, do not make me have to come fetch you,” She said, as she walked out.
I felt a bit insulted that she had just left, not even giving me a joke, but I got over it as I went to dinner, filling up my plate with what looked like a failed attempt at mashed potatoes and a bit of gravy, before going to sit at the only spot open at the B rankers’ table. I slid into the seat next to Kate of all people, across from Anna and Marnus. As soon as I sat down, Anna looked far more disgusted than usual before getting up and leaving.
“I just sat down,” I sighed before I started attacking the food on my plate. Kate just said, “She blames you for not getting into the ascension tournament since she had to heal you. She’ll come around, you’ll see,” she said, sounding like she didn’t believe a word she was saying.
And her words weren’t even cold when I heard Richard say to the whole table, “Tom, move. Anna needs a new seat. She asked you nicely. I won’t be so kind.” I heard some grumbling as the only fat fink got up off his chair and walked to the chair in front of me, his face a mask of humiliation and resignation as he sat down. He was at least a head taller than me, his shoulders probably ten meters wide, his belly making him have to pull his chair out a bit further.
He looked embarrassed, so I just raised my eyebrow at him, but I left it. I only realized how tired I was when I was walking to the mess hall, feeling my eyes heavy and every limb I had burn from overuse, like every muscle had become a stiff wire that refused to move. I just munched away before looking up and saying, “Hi. I’m Boris. And you are?”
He looked up behind thick eyebrows, a perplexed expression on his face. “Uhm, I’m Tom?”
“Nice to meet you, Tom. Don’t think I’ve seen you around. Have you met my friends Kate and Marnus?” I said, waving at the two of them with my free hand as I took a sip of juice.
Marnus looked at me like he’d just won the lottery. “We’re friends? I haven’t even done anything for you yet. Wait, you don’t know…” He glanced down, shame coloring his face. “My parents are shieldmen.”
I paused mid-chew, blinking at him. “Uh, that changes what exactly? No, none of this. We’re friends,” I said, making my hand into a knife and knighted him like I’d seen in cartoons.
“Do you have any complaints about being friends, Kate?” I added, looking over at her, still munching. Tom was staring at me like I was an idiot, and I couldn't figure out why people always did that. It was very rude.
She stifled a laugh, but then her expression shifted—slightly confused, slightly serious. “Boris, you are... well, you’re not nice, but you do seem to have a good heart. But I saw you kill two people. And then just walk away from it like it was nothing. I don’t know if I can be friends with a murderer,” she said, meeting my eyes. Her tone was sharp, probing. “How could you do that? How could you live with it—How could you justify it to yourself?”
I sighed, realizing the moment had slipped out of my hands. I glanced at Marnus, whose face was now shadowed, not so much excited anymore, but thoughtful.
“Well, Tom, I promise they’re not always like this,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, but it fell flat. Kate didn’t seem amused, and even Marnus looked down in discomfort.
I ran a hand through my hair and cleared my throat. “Alright then. Kate, the reason I was at the hadron collider that day was because I chased that man there. The one I killed. He snitched on me for having girls at my church,” I said, staring at my plate, the words coming slow and deliberate. “To a gang.” I added quickly, remembering how The General had responded.
I paused, feeling the weight of it all. “I killed the gang members who found out. I had to. I won’t apologize for it. I killed them. I wanted to. I needed to.”
I finally looked up at her, holding her gaze. “And the reason I can walk away from it like it’s nothing is because they threatened my kids. Kate, if I could go back to that moment, I’d do the same thing. I would kill them again, and again, and again, even if it meant dying with them. I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”
I broke eye contact, looking down at my food, my voice lowering as I finished. “I killed them. For my girls. My kids. My responsibility. I would do anything for them, and if you can’t understand that… then we couldn't be friends in the first place.” I said with a shrug.
I stabbed my fork into the plate, the silence hanging heavy between us.
The dinner was silent after that. Marnus not looking at me, Tom looking like he would rather be in a hole in the ground. We were dismissed and got the same instructions as we did yesterday: showering, cleaning, making the bed, lining up outside the door.
Lieutenant Zenzele seemed almost distracted, just saying, “Goodnight, go to bed,” before walking off quickly in the direction of Colonel Walker's room, like the discussion she was clearly going to have with him was more important than protocol.
But that didn’t matter, as the rest climbed into bed, and I prayed to God for something different from my normal nightly prayers. I realized earlier that the shirt I had on instead of the fink uniform was gone, given to Lieutenant Zenzele this morning. But that didn’t matter either.
I lay in bed pretending to sleep, counting to a thousand, before opening my eyes and looking up at the ceiling.
Like I said, I’d do anything.