“I am proud to announce that reconstruction efforts are soon to be underway,” said the New York City mayor to the cameras and microphones surrounding him. “The White House has assured me in bringing their full assistance in both the repairs and the manhunt for the person responsible for the recent tragedies. I have been assured that new security measures and protections will be put in place nationwide. Though those details are not mine to share right now.”
“Instead, today is a day of hope and hard work as we honor those lost to us and undo as much as we can. For those who have lost family or friends, I am sorry.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” the voice of the news anchor returned with a solemn tone, the camera transitioning from the press conference back to the newsroom. The news desk was polished, the anchor’s hands clasped tightly together as he spoke directly into the lens. His eyes reflected the gravity of the situation, tempered only by a faint glimmer of resilience.
“As the Mayor of New York City expressed, today marks the beginning of a long and arduous road to recovery. It is a day marked by both mourning and determination. Authorities continue to pour resources into the investigation of the attack, and while the identity of the assailant remains unknown, sources close to law enforcement have confirmed that several high-ranking officials are urging for immediate action.”
The screen split, revealing footage of the rubble-strewn streets of New York, where rescue crews worked tirelessly, pulling debris aside and offering aid to stunned survivors. The camera zoomed in on the debris, where remnants of shattered windows and twisted metal lay scattered across the pavement like remnants of a battlefield. The once-bustling streets of the city, now hauntingly silent, were a stark contrast to the vibrancy that was, until mere hours ago, a symbol of progress and unity.
“Our hearts go out to the families of the victims,” the anchor continued, “and to all those affected by this act of terror, know that the entire nation stands behind you. The shockwaves of this event have been felt across the country—across the world. But in the face of tragedy, we have seen incredible acts of bravery and solidarity. Neighbors helping neighbors, strangers offering shelter, food, and support in the wake of devastation.”
The camera cut back to the anchor, his expression drawn tight as he glanced down at his notes briefly before raising his head once more.
“Authorities have confirmed that the explosion was caused by a device of an unknown origin, believed to be the work of a highly dangerous individual with superhuman abilities. The individual, who remains at large, is described as having extraordinary strength and the ability to manipulate energy in ways that surpass current scientific understanding. Investigators are working around the clock to piece together the events leading up to the attack, and every effort is being made to ensure that justice is served.”
“In response to the growing concern over individuals with superhuman abilities, the government has announced sweeping reforms designed to enhance public safety and regulate the use of such powers. These new measures, which include mandatory registration and strict regulations on the use of abilities, are already drawing sharp debate across the country. Civil liberties groups have expressed concern over the potential for government overreach, while others argue that such measures are necessary to prevent future attacks.”
“And now we have our panelists in the studio to discuss these new laws and the implications of these recent events. General Walworth, if you would start.”
“The situation is unprecedented. We’re facing a new kind of threat—one that we’re not fully equipped to handle. These individuals, these superhumans, have abilities that can cause mass destruction in a matter of seconds. We need to be proactive, not reactive. These new laws are a step in the right direction.”
The second expert, a civil rights attorney, shook her head, her tone measured but firm.
“While I understand the need for security, we cannot sacrifice our fundamental freedoms in the name of safety. Mandatory registration? Enhanced surveillance? These are slippery slopes. We’ve seen time and time again how fear leads to the erosion of civil liberties. We need to be careful not to vilify an entire group of people based on the actions of a few.”
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“Let’s focus on combat without your powers. I want to see where your baseline is and then we can work from there,” said the Trainer. “Aim down range.” He put his headgear back on and I started.
The targets weren’t moving and were set up fifty feet away. I had done this practice before, but not in a while. With my hands steady I started firing. The bullets pinged off the metal of the target. I slowed toward the end as I realized that the gun had a different recoil from what I was used to.
“Let’s see how you did,” he said once I finished firing. With a press of a button, the target moved toward us so that we could see it.
“Not bad, Blink. But we can do better,” the Trainer said, examining the target. My shots were clustered around the center, but a few had strayed. “We need to tighten that grouping. Let’s start with some basic drills to get you warmed up.”
I nodded, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline. It had been a while since I’d focused on firearms training, relying more on my teleportation abilities in combat. But today was about honing my skills without my powers, making sure I was just as deadly with a gun as I was with a blink.
“First up, we’ll do the Bill Drill,” the Trainer announced. “Six shots, as fast as you can, into the center zone. Start from the holster.”
I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the gun at my side. At the beep of the shot timer, I drew, aimed, and fired six rapid shots. The sound of gunfire echoed in the range, and I felt the familiar kick of the recoil. I focused on maintaining my grip and sight picture, just like the Trainer had taught me.
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“3.8 seconds,” he said, checking the timer. “Not bad, but let’s aim for under 3.5. Again.”
I reset, holstered my weapon, and waited for the beep. This time, I was faster and more precise. The shots felt smoother and more controlled. When the timer beeped again, I knew I had improved.
“3.4 seconds. Good job, Blink. Now, let’s move on to the BFM Drill,” he said, setting up three paper targets a yard apart. “This one’s a bit more complex. You’ll need to engage multiple targets and perform a reload. Ready?”
I nodded, feeling the excitement build. The BFM Drill was one of my favorites. It combined speed, accuracy, and tactical movement. At the beep, I drew my gun and fired six shots into the center target, then transitioned to the left target for two headshots. I performed a quick reload and fired four more shots into the body of the left target before transitioning to the right target for two body shots and one headshot.
“11.5 seconds,” the Trainer said, nodding in approval. “Solid performance. Let’s do it again and see if we can shave off a second or two.”
We repeated the drill several times, each run feeling more fluid and precise. I could feel my confidence growing with each successful shot. The Trainer’s feedback was invaluable, helping me fine-tune my technique and improve my times.
“Alright, Blink. Let’s switch things up with the Box Drill,” he said, setting up a barrel in the center of the range. “This one’s all about dynamic movement. You’ll move around the barrel, firing three shots in each direction. Ready?”
I took my position, feeling the tension in my muscles. At the beep, I moved forward, firing three shots, then to the right, back, and left, each time firing three shots. The movement was intense, but I focused on keeping my shots accurate and my movements smooth.
“Good job. Now, let’s do it in the opposite direction,” the Trainer said, resetting the drill. We repeated the Box Drill several times, each run pushing me to move faster and shoot more accurately.
“Great work, Blink. You’re improving with each drill,” the Trainer said, checking the timer. “Let’s finish up with some dry practice drills. Five minutes of quality dry practice can make a huge difference.”
I nodded, feeling the sweat on my brow. Dry practice was all about precision and control without the distraction of recoil. I focused on my grip, sight picture, and trigger pull, each movement deliberate and controlled.
“Remember, it’s about quality, not quantity,” the Trainer said, watching me closely. “Five minutes of focused practice can do more for your skills than an hour of unfocused shooting. You should practice these a few times a week if you can.”
“Great job today, Blink. Keep practicing, and you’ll be unstoppable,” the Trainer said, giving me a nod of approval. “Next time, we’ll incorporate some more advanced drills and see how far you can push your skills.”
“Thank you for your time. The practice was great.” I smiled, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. There was still training to get to.
The next day, I went to the physical trainer.
Physical training was part of the hero repertoire that I neglected. At the same time, I was by no means out of shape. Teleporting everywhere made running and sprints less of an issue, and at times, my endurance would suffer. It also didn’t help that I wasn’t called on to handle a dozen thugs at once. My abilities lay in utility and the rescue calls that I was often called on. Even then, I needed the stamina and strength to endure long hours and stressful situations.
The physical training session was set to be intense. The Trainer had a no-nonsense approach, and I knew today would push my limits. We started with a VO2 max test to measure my aerobic capacity. This test would determine my maximum oxygen uptake, a crucial indicator of cardiovascular fitness.
"Alright, Blink, we’re going to start with the VO2 max test," the Trainer said, leading me to a treadmill. "This will help us understand your endurance levels. We’ll gradually increase the speed and incline until you reach your maximum effort."
I nodded, stepping onto the treadmill. The Trainer attached a mask to my face to measure my oxygen intake and carbon dioxide output. As the treadmill started, I focused on maintaining a steady pace. The speed and incline increased incrementally, and I could feel my heart rate rising. My breathing became more labored, but I pushed through, determined to give it my all.
Keep going, Blink. You’re doing great," the Trainer encouraged. "Just a bit more."
Finally, I reached my limit, and the Trainer stopped the treadmill. I was panting heavily, but I was done.
"Good job, Blink. Your VO2 max is impressive, but there’s always room for improvement. We’ll incorporate more cardio into your routine to boost your endurance."
Next up was the running speed test. The Trainer wanted to assess my sprinting ability, which was crucial for quick movements in combat situations.
"We’ll do a series of sprints to measure your top speed and acceleration," the Trainer explained.
"Start at the line and sprint to the marker 100 meters away. We’ll time each run." I took my position at the starting line, feeling the adrenaline build. At the Trainer’s signal, I exploded forward, pumping my arms and legs as fast as I could. The wind rushed past me, and I focused on maintaining my form. I crossed the finish line, breathing hard.
"12.7 seconds," the Trainer called out. "Not bad, but let’s see if we can get it under that time. Again."
We repeated the sprints several times, each run pushing me to my limits. By the end, my legs felt like jelly, but I had managed to shave off a tenth of a second.
After a short break, we moved on to weight training. Strength was just as important as speed and endurance, especially for handling physical confrontations.
"We’ll start with some compound lifts to build overall strength," the Trainer said, guiding me to the squat rack. "Squats, deadlifts, and bench presses. Let’s see what you’ve got."
I positioned myself under the barbell, feeling the weight on my shoulders. As I lowered into a squat, I focused on keeping my form tight and controlled. The Trainer watched closely, offering tips and corrections.
"Good depth, Blink. Keep your chest up and drive through your heels."
We moved through the various lifts, each one challenging different muscle groups. The Trainer pushed me to increase the weight gradually, ensuring I was working at my maximum capacity. We took small breaks in between, but everything was strained. I knew that mentally, I would be fine and pushed through to the completion of each instruction.
To wrap up the session, we focused on functional training exercises designed to mimic real-life movements and improve overall agility and coordination.
"We’ll do some kettlebell swings, battle ropes, and box jumps," the Trainer said, setting up the equipment. "These exercises will help you build explosive power and improve your agility."
I grabbed the kettlebell and started swinging it between my legs, using my hips to generate momentum. The battle ropes were next, and I slammed them down with all my might, feeling the burn in my arms and shoulders. Finally, I tackled the box jumps, leaping onto the platform with as much force as I could muster.
"Great work, Blink. You’re really pushing yourself," the Trainer said, nodding in approval. “Now, let’s cool down with you punching the bag. Hit the bag to the beat of the sounds. Just do jabs with alternating throws each time.”
I nodded, and he started the metronome. The count rang out from the device and in my mind. ‘One, two. One, two.’ Back and forth it went. After the intense workout, we finished with a cool-down session to help my muscles recover. The Trainer led me through a series of stretches, focusing on flexibility and relaxation. The stretching felt good after a long day of work. Everything felt sore and strained. I chugged the bottle of water that he handed to me and fell back onto the mat. Once I stepped out of the gym, I teleported away to rest as quickly as possible.