The structure is a series of tents, all torn down, all held together more by inertia than by any knowledge of civil engineering, the people inside this site receive visitors every week, the trucks are automatic, I don't think anyone human can use them. has lived there for many years, weapons are fired at the proximity of anyone who does not have a barcode on their forehead, these "merchants", as you must know them, are people who carry the resources... if those poor guys who climb the trucks are drugged, they don't know what's wrong with them and that's why they follow the directions, if what I think is true you'll have to be close to them to know where they're going, I think you'll discover a very interesting surprise, but for now I need you to do something: More power to that kick! Observe the holographic image. Rotate your body and use the momentum to attack the enemy behind you! Above! The savages won't let you rest! Use your hands!

While the blows follow one another imitating an image made of light (Paulina wants to know how it is that she looks so much like her) she still feels the excess momentum in each rotation given by her new foot, it took her many days to be able to master the sudden accelerations of a robotic implant, first she trained the rest of his body, she ran and ran while touring the facilities, the interface did not stop repeating various information, so many topics, so much misery, always running, then obstacles, rocky terrain were added to the races, mud, crumbling concrete blocks, her body was forged by studying, running and dodging. Once she could use all the speed of her leg and the rest of her body had the stamina to keep up with her, the real training began: first, how to punch with her fists, she imitated everything that appeared on a wall (she later discovered which was a screen), a bag full of sand gave calluses and black knuckles, her hands were always tanned by excavations, but now her fingers vibrated from the impact; she knew the pain of someone who hits without breathing until she accumulated more than twenty blows per breath, then there were thirty, feint, left, right, hook to the liver, blows placed for the chin and temple areas, everything else to the areas soft.

Every morning Paulina woke up disconcerted, her mind associating the images of what surrounded her; she reminded to him of his names and hers, as well as his body: this arm delivers quick blows with a relaxed posture and tensing until the last moment, your head always behind your fists, every time you use your right arm it has to go with a rotation of your entire body, you must have the necessary force to impact the brain and avoid a long fight. But it wasn't the only thing she had to know, every start her head informed her that she now knew what an omelet was, the reason for the blue sky, the state of man's consumerism; most of this data was difficult to understand, I had nothing to compare it with, so there was always one piece of data, no matter how small it seemed, that agreed with another, such as that people bought just to buy and most of their needs were satisfied only for short periods of time, usually while another need was being managed by the large groups. From then on I didn't understand why people didn't look to their survival or their stability or simply to not look stupid by abandoning everything the moment that what they had acquired went out of style (which I still didn't understand what that was) all day long I trained and her mind reviewed everything she learned at night; she devoured whatever was on the plate and continued training her routine for two months.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

One day she woke up and finally understood what was on the wall; she understood something, she always saw the symbols on the wall and she never knew what they said; Today they took on meaning, today an "a" and a "n" formed an article (who knows what it was), but things had a meaning and she knew it; For the first time she read: "when you give up, a part of you dies, when you give up, that part mocks... small and fragile is the will."

He understood and dedicated himself to running around the place (without forgetting the sprints) he read everything he already understood: laboratories, bathrooms, central office, everything was interesting; he could put images to everything he knew; That day he arrived at the library, his teacher told him that he had to read a book a day while he did his muscle strengthening work, he told him to use some glasses that were on the desk, his first book was Brave New World, he did not understand the most of what came out there; The letters scrolled across the screen and she tried to understand, but nothing made sense.

Throughout that month she began to train kicks, the fast ones with the human leg, leaning on the "bitch", as she liked to call Paulina; The strong ones she gave with the leg of flesh as support, even when she used protections, the leg soon turned purple and hurt from all the blood that accumulated. She fell to the ground several times, first from her breath. She could run a lot but never distances as long as the ones she had to cover here; She learned to breathe, not to "burn" so quickly, with the blows she learned the angles, the speed, she was always envious of the image, it was her but faster and stronger, always a serious, imperturbable look, no shouting or shouting. sobbing, no anger, no lip biting, those kicks did hurt but as soon as the image stopped I saw her and shouted: Don't give up! It's still too early to sink! And after a few minutes catching her breath she went out again to try to be like the image... to be more than what she aspired to be.

When she finally felt comfortable with the training she returned to reading. She read many books from places she didn't know but most of all she read and reread her first book, each time she picked it up she knew a little more of the story, one more piece of the unknown, little by little becoming something she knew. she did understand; When she asked if they were true, I only answered that for many she had more value for not being true, for trying to see things that could have been and are not there; I don't think she understands me but for now it's the closest thing to describing imagination.

When she turned one year old, her body was not at all that similar to the one she had when she entered: all her muscles were marked by hard training, her will grew a lot, she is still ignorant of life, but she is aware of death and knows how to face it and beat her, it's a shame it's not enough. I tell her that her "god" is waiting for her, she recognizes the word gym and inside she sees the equipment used by the scientists and workers of this place, on a tatami there is a training robot, my creator asks her to get inside the ring, he tells her that now he will have to fight with him.

The next half hour is brutal; she is hit and thrown from one end to the other, her blows are good and any training unit should have fallen long ago, but it was driven by the impulses of a human and not by a program, when at last she was left on her knees. A snort was heard... and he told her that she now had the bases for training, that she had one more year to learn something that was a mix of a martial art called zambo and something called aikido, with me being her interface with the machines, located in a small portion of her brain, I can only give her all the knowledge she can get from the database so that she can face what is coming to her... and I am not referring to training, but to the fights for her life against the merchants for the knowledge that our owner seeks, their god.