"You're early."
The voice came from a woman standing near the entrance to the Hero Union's underground training arena. She was solidly built, with arms like steel beams and a stare that made Caleb wish he'd stayed in bed. Her combat suit bore the usual black and silver tones but was frayed in places, like she'd personally fought gravity—and won.
Caleb raised a hand in a loose wave. "Yeah, I figured showing up early would balance out all the times I've nearly died recently."
She didn't smile. "Jian Mei. Combat instructor. Your pain is my schedule."
He opened his mouth to respond, thought better of it, and caught the chest pad she tossed his way.
The arena was already alive with activity. Recruits—most older than Caleb—moved between sparring zones and obstacle circuits, each trying not to look too curious about the new kid. The walls were lined with reinforced panels, and ceiling turrets tracked movements for live feedback. It smelled like sweat and scorched floor mats.
"Alright, recruits!" Jian barked. "New meat today. Caleb Mark. He's barely competent, probably unstable, and, for some reason, our responsibility."
Caleb stepped onto a circular platform in the center of the room. It lit up as sensors activated, and a countdown began on a nearby panel.
Jian crossed her arms. "Reflex test. Dodge the strikes, or get knocked around and laughed at. Either builds character."
A padded mechanical arm extended from the floor. It swung toward him.
He sidestepped—just a bit too late.
The impact shoved him off-balance, and he stumbled backward, catching himself on the edge of the circle. Laughter rippled through the room.
Caleb straightened, brushing off his shoulder. "That was a warm-up hit. I let it land. Confidence booster for the machine."
The next arm came in lower. He ducked this time, then jumped over the one that followed. He grinned for a second too long before a final arm caught him in the ribs. He keeled over and ended up flat on the floor.
"Better," Jian said dryly. "You lasted four seconds longer than the last guy. He cried."
"I might cry later," Caleb muttered.
The reflex test reset. Then came the endurance drills—sprints, weights, push-ups. Caleb strained through every set, trying to keep up with the others. His limbs shook halfway through the obstacle course. He tripped during a wall run and landed face-first in a crash mat.
"You okay?" one of the recruits called.
"I'm great," Caleb groaned. "Just inspecting the structural integrity of the floor with my face."
That earned him a couple of smirks, even from Jian, who handed him a bottle of water without comment.
By noon, he was drenched in sweat and his muscles burned. He sat down on the edge of the mat, panting, as a few of the others broke for lunch.
A girl with bright blue hair and a mouthful of protein bar plopped beside him.
"You didn't die," she said through her chewing. "Good first day."
Caleb glanced at her. "Give me a few minutes."
"I'm Riley. Rank C. You?"
"Uh... Pending disaster."
She snorted. "Perfect. You'll fit right in."
Jian clapped her hands once. "Back here tomorrow. We'll start weapon training. And yes, before anyone asks—yes, even you get to hold a stick, Mark. Try not to stab yourself."
"I make no promises," Caleb replied, voice dry.
As he limped toward the exit with the others, he could feel the dull throb in every joint and the tight knot of soreness in his back. But underneath the ache, something else stirred—faint, but real.
He was getting better.
Not strong. Not yet.
But better.
And for now, that was enough.