I should have seen it coming. Should have noticed Paul’s eyes tracking me, the way his stance had shifted. But fatigue makes fools of all of us.
The moment I stepped on the mat, I saw him waiting. Gloves on. Jaw set. Ready.
“Back again, huh?” I asked, raising my hands.
“Yeah,” he said, voice tight. “Figured I’d learn better if I practiced on you.”
I raised a brow, stepping forward. “You learn better when you get put on your ass, huh?”
“No,” he said, grinning this time. “When I get back up to beat that smile off your freak-face.”
He moved. Fast. No hesitation. No wide swings this time. His fist came in tight, low, aimed for my ribs. I blocked, but he followed with a second hit to my side, jarring my balance.
I grunted, feet sliding on the mat. Alright, Rookie. You learned something.
But two hits don’t win a fight.
I stepped in close, locking his arm under mine and driving a sharp knee toward his thigh. He twisted, breaking the hold, and shoved me back with more force than I expected.
The squad’s attention shifted. Viper leaned forward, watching intently. Breaker grinned like he was at a ringside event.
Paul stepped forward again, his hands up, his grin sharp and bright with new confidence.
“Come on, Tats,” he said, flexing his fingers. “Show me how much better you are.”
I wiped sweat from my brow and rolled my neck.
“Alright,” I muttered, eyes locking onto his.
Lesson time.
The air on the training floor shifted as I stepped back forward. There was a weight to it now, heavier than before. I could feel it in the glances from the rest of the squad and the surrounding rookies alike. Breaker sat forward on the bench, elbows on his knees, watching intently. Crone sipped her tea like this was the most natural thing in the world, but her eyes didn’t leave us for a second. Even Watcher had stopped moving, its sensors locked onto the two of us. I could see even Jin watching me, her eyes standing out among the crowd.
Paul stood on the other end of the mat, his gloves raised, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. Sweat dripped down his temple, his gaze sharp with something more than focus.
Pride. He still thinks he’s got a shot.
“Round two,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his glove. “What do you say, Tats? Wanna show me if you’re worth all that sympathy they keep giving you?”
The words hit like a sharp stone. Not because of what he said, but because I could hear the undertone beneath it. The implication. The bite.
Sympathy.
Not respect. Not trust. Sympathy.
I rolled my shoulders, slowly raising my fists. My heart wasn’t racing. Not yet. I didn’t feel the usual rush of adrenaline. No, this wasn’t that. This was something quieter. Heavier. Something I’d buried a long time ago.
“You sure you want this?” I asked, meeting his gaze head-on.
Paul grinned, baring his teeth like he’d already won. “Oh, I’m sure. I figure it’s about time someone put you inhuman freak back in your place.”
The room went still.
Even Viper, who always had something to say, went quiet.
Back in my place, huh?
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I felt my teeth clench, the sharp grind of it echoing through my skull. My fingers curled tighter into fists, my nails pressing into my palms.
“You don’t know where I’m from,” I said quietly, stepping forward. My boots hit the mat with a steady, deliberate rhythm. “You don’t know what it took to get here.”
Paul’s grin widened, and I saw it then—he thought he’d won already. He thought those words would break me.
Instead, I felt something shift inside me. Something cold, steady, and absolutely certain.
“Start,” Reaper barked, his voice sharp as a whipcrack.
Paul moved first once again, just like I knew he would. He lunged, aiming for my ribs again. This time, I didn’t dodge.
I stepped in.
My arm shot up, catching his punch at the wrist, twisting it to the side. His momentum pulled him forward, and before he could even register what was happening, I planted my foot, twisted my hips, and drove my fist straight into his jaw.
Not a jab. Not a hook. Just raw, unfiltered force.
There was a sound. A sharp, hollow crack that echoed across the training floor. It wasn’t bone, not yet, but it was close. Paul’s head snapped back, his eyes wide with shock as his body followed the motion.
He crumpled.
No slow fall. No dramatic stumble. Just down.
His back hit the mat with a heavy thud, his limbs splaying out like a puppet with its strings cut. The only sound after that was the sharp intake of breath from the people surrounding us.
“Shit,” Viper muttered, eyes wide.
Breaker winced, sucking air through his teeth like he was the one who’d been hit. Crone raised an eyebrow, her teacup hovering just below her lips. Watcher’s optical sensors flickered twice in rapid succession, its head tilting just slightly.
I stayed where I was, my fist still raised, my chest heaving in slow, steady breaths. My knuckles throbbed, a dull ache creeping in now that the moment had passed and the flesh was slowly beginning to knit itself back together. I could feel the faint warmth of it, the pulse of blood moving under my skin.
Paul didn’t move.
“Damn,” Viper muttered, leaning back against the bench. “Didn’t know you had that left in you after this morning.”
“Tats,” Reaper’s voice cut through the quiet, his tone sharp and heavy with warning. “Step off the mat. Now.”
I glanced down at Paul one last time. He was breathing, shallow but steady. His eyes were closed, his jaw slack. He wasn’t dead. Not even close. Shame.
But he’d remember this.
I turned, dropping my hands to my sides, and walked off the mat without a word. My footsteps felt heavier now. My chest felt tight, not from exertion, but from the weight of it all.
Back in my place.
----------------------------------------
Reaper’s hand caught my shoulder as soon as I was off the mat. It wasn’t hard. Didn’t need to be. The weight of it was enough.
“Control,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You lost it.”
I glanced back at him, my face carefully neutral. “I had control.”
“Not of yourself,” he replied, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t give me that excuse.” He leaned in closer, his voice sharp enough to carve stone. “I don’t care if he deserved it. You think Command’s gonna see it that way?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. We both knew how they’d see it.
Reaper let me go with a shove, not hard, but enough to send a message. “Locker room. Now. Go shower.”
I didn’t argue. I didn’t have it in me. My jaw was tight, my breath slow and deliberate as I walked toward the locker room. Every step felt heavier than the last.
The sound of footsteps followed behind me.
Vivi. Of course.
“So...” they said, dragging out the word as they walked alongside me. “That was something, huh?”
“Don’t,” I muttered, rubbing my knuckles.
“No, no, I’m serious,” they said, their grin audible in their voice. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you finally found that gargoyle temper of yours again.”
“Shut up, Viv.”
They laughed, the sound bright and sharp. “What? You want me to lie to you? ‘Cause I saw it, Rak. Everybody saw it.” They stepped in front of me, walking backward, eyes locked on mine. “You’re pissed. And not just at him. So spill. What’s got you ready to put rookies in the dirt?”
I didn’t answer right away. My gaze flicked to the floor, to the scuffed boots I’d worn through too many fights. “He called me a freak,” I muttered.
Viper blinked. Their grin faded, eyes softening just slightly.
“Yeah,” I said quietly, my hands flexing at my sides. “Heard that enough growing up, but today… I just—”
“Yeah,” Viper said, stepping aside to walk next to me again. They didn’t say anything else for a moment, just kept pace with me. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was... steady.
“Next time,” they finally said, glancing over at me, “aim for the chest. Hits harder, less evidence.”
I huffed a quiet laugh, my shoulders relaxing just a bit.
“Locker room,” I muttered as we reached the door. “Shut up before Crone starts giving me advice too.”
“Hey,” Viper said with a smirk, “Crone’s got centuries on you. You should be asking her for pointers.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, but I wasn’t mad. Not anymore. I didn’t have the energy for it.
I pushed open the door, and the cool air of the locker room hit like a splash of cold water. The hum of the overhead lights buzzed faintly, the distant thud of boots echoing from down the hall. I grabbed a towel from the rack, tossing one to Viper as well.
“Think Reaper’s gonna write me up?” I asked, wiping the sweat from my face.
Viper shrugged, untying their hair to let their locs fall over their shoulders. “Nah, you’re good as long as Paul doesn’t rat to command or daddy dearest,” they said, glancing at me with a grin. “But he’ll make you pay for it in drills tomorrow.”
I sighed, tossing the towel over my head. “Of course he will.”
“Hey,” Viper said, their grin sharp and full of trouble. “At least Paul won’t be joining us.”
We both laughed, low and tired, but it felt good.