Inside the sterile confines of the warrior house basement, Trinity felt the weight of her team's probing eyes on her. The harsh, fluorescent lights overhead seemed to magnify their stares, making her feel exposed. She stood her ground, doing her best to ignore their questioning gazes, her shoulders set with a defiant tension. She wasn't going to tell them anything. Not yet. Eventually, they would find out that the four warriors were her personal guards, but she wasn't ready to reveal that secret.
Trinity and Luca, believing their day was over, moved to gather their duffel bags, the ones filled with the equipment they had been issued for their training at ST. It was already 8:30 at night, and the day's rigorous activities should have been over. As they began to walk away from the group, a ripple of chuckles spread through the room, followed by a chorus of outright laughter that wasn't limited to just their team.
Trinity's brow furrowed in confusion. She glanced at Luca, her unspoken question mirrored in his equally bewildered expression. She had planned to visit Timothy, a trip she couldn't make while confined to this place. Now that they were done for the day, she should be free to go.
"Did no one tell you?" Malika's nasally voice cut through the air, carrying a note of smug superiority.
Trinity and Luca exchanged another puzzled look, still oblivious to what was happening.
"We don't just go to bed at the end of the night," Malika continued, her voice dripping with condescension. "We work in shifts. There's always someone here monitoring the cameras, another team checking the sensors. Your day just started."
Zack flashed a grin, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he rubbed his dirty blond hair. "Strap in, newbie."
Luca's eyes widened. "Oh." He had no idea ST was this stringent. He had assumed he'd be able to go home each night, but this new information brought an unexpected sense of relief. It meant he would be near Trinity more often and, more importantly, away from his father. In his mind, these were all good things.
Wordlessly, the pair turned and walked back to the group, dropping their bags on the floor. They looked toward the electronic board, where the tasks for teams one through eleven were displayed. Next to Team 11, it read Strength Training. They fell in behind the others as the group moved toward the center of the large room, a vast space filled with weight training machines.
"We're going to be here for the next two hours, most likely," Zack said, his tone carrying a note of warning. "Pace yourselves." He knew they wouldn't understand the full weight of his words until it was too late.
Each of them took up a machine. Trinity found herself on the leg press, her mind reeling. They had gone from deadly obstacle courses to mundane strength training, a jarring and illogical shift. She stifled her complaints, knowing no one would listen or care about her assessment.
Every fifteen minutes, they switched machines, pushing their bodies without a moment's rest. At first, Trinity thought it was a simple task, nothing too overwhelming. But as the minutes ticked into hours, a wave of nausea rose in her throat. She felt like she was about to vomit up whatever was left in her stomach.
"Keep pushing!" Zack's voice boomed across the room, an infuriatingly cheerful sound.
"No one quits!" another voice echoed.
Trinity wished he would stop. She wanted to quit. She needed a break, and the sheer frustration of it all made her clench her teeth. In her mind, she pictured kicking him in the balls every time he opened his mouth.
The giant clock on the wall ticked once more, its digital face changing to read 1:00 a m. A low shuffling sound filled the room as the board flickered, displaying new assignments. Team One was to patrol the perimeter, Team Six was to monitor the sensors, and Team Ten was off to sleep. Her team, Team Eleven, was now assigned to Sparring in the Cage.
The only good thing about sparring was that while two people fought, everyone else could rest. Not thinking that she would be going first, she walked over to the line of fridges along the wall to grab a bottle of water. She grabbed a second one for Luca, a small, unspoken gesture of camaraderie.
She tossed the bottle to him. He grinned, catching it with an easy grace. He felt like he was making progress with Trinity, and all he had to do was bide his time. She would be his. A devious thought crossed his mind, and he wondered what Mona was doing. Maybe he needed to pay her another visit.
The heavy iron chains groaned, the sound like a tortured beast, as the massive, domed cage descended from the ceiling of the cavernous hall. The fluorescent lights flickered, casting dancing shadows that made the metal bars seem to writhe and twist. Inside, two figures stood apart, their eyes locked as the cage came to rest with a resounding clang, its silver bars locking them inside. The battle had begun.
The rest of the team stood around the cage, their attention fixed on the impending fight. Trinity sat cross-legged on the floor, her chest heaving as she drank her water, trying to catch her breath after the brutal strength training.
Inside the cage, Zack, tall and lanky with his shaggy, dirty-blond hair, wore a cocky grin, his eyes glinting with arrogance. Facing him was Tank, a man built like a boulder, his shaved head gleaming in the blinding light. His muscles bulged under a worn vest, and every line of his body was coiled with a quiet, lethal strength. Zack's grin widened as he took a step forward, his hands held up loosely, as if this were nothing more than a playful spar. Tank didn't smile back. He simply shifted his weight, his immense body a wall of stillness.
Zack made the first move, a lightning-fast jab aimed at Tank's head. Tank met it with a block, but as their arms connected, Zack's hand shifted. In a blur of bone and sinew, his fingers stretched and thickened, transforming into the clawed paw of a wolf.
Razor-sharp talons raked across Tank's forearm, tearing through the fabric of his vest and gouging deep, crimson lines. Tank grunted in pain but didn't falter. He surged forward, his own hand transforming in a burst of fur and muscle. The heavy paw, tipped with deadly claws, aimed for Zack's face. Zack ducked, the wolf-paw whistling past his ear, a gust of wind ruffling his hair.
Trinity took a sip of her water, her eyes wide with disbelief. This was completely different from the sparring they had done as first-stagers. This looked like a barbaric, no-holds-barred brawl.
Zack tried to create distance, but Tank was relentless, closing in with a low growl rumbling in his chest. Zack kicked out with his right leg, a swift, snapping motion. Just before his foot connected, it twisted, bones cracking and reshaping as it became a wolf's hind leg. The powerful paw, claws extended, clawed viciously at Tank's hips. Tank sidestepped just enough to avoid the worst of the blow, but the claws still bit into his side, shredding the cloth and leaving three deep marks.
At that moment, Luca finally understood why Thomas had made them practice shifting partially, isolating each muscle group. He realized it was to prepare them for what they were seeing now—the ability to shift parts of their body rather than the whole. Once you made it to the STs, this was a basic requirement. He had never fought like these two beasts. He had always assumed a person fought in either human or full wolf form, but never in this terrifying in-between state.
Enraged, Tank retaliated with a brutal kick of his own. As his leg shot out, it bulked and mutated into the powerful limb of a massive wolf. Fur sprouted, claws unsheathed, and the powerful appendage slammed into Zack's chest. The force was tremendous, shattering ribs and sending Zack flying back against the bars of the cage with a sickening thud. The skin that made contact with the metal burned. He slumped to the ground, his smug expression replaced with a pained grimace. Tank stalked forward, his form a horrifying blend of man and beast, his human face set in a look of grim determination as he prepared to end the fight.
"Do you think we're allowed weapons?" Trinity leaned toward Luca, her voice a quiet whisper. Her eyes remained fixed on the brutal fight. "I might die without one," she muttered, her words meant only for herself.