"Everyone, a hundred pushups," Commander Kyle ordered. Immediately, all the new members dropped to the ground and began the exercise.
Hazen and Fatty's jaws dropped as the men started counting.
"We can do it, right?" Hazen punched the air, stretching her limbs.
"Yes, we can!" Fatty replied, jogging and stretching his arms.
"Okay, let's go down in three, two, one." Immediately, they both hit the ground and began the pushups.
"We're doing it, aren't we?" Hazen said, gritting her teeth as she pushed herself up again.
"Yes, we are. Now let's start counting—I'm losing track!" Fatty panted, his face already glistening with sweat.
Hazen started, "Okay, one, two, three… seven..."
"I can't!" Fatty slumped to the ground, gasping for air, his shirt soaked through.
"I'm doing it… eight... at this rate, I'll hit twenty… nine… ten!" Hazen collapsed, her arms trembling. "I can't, they don't build bridges in a day!" she said, sucking in deep breaths.
"I see twenty," Fatty giggled, teasing Hazen with a playful nudge.
"I'll do it next time," Hazen replied, laughing and wiping the sweat off her brow, but the laughter was short-lived. Her arms still tingled, heavy and sore.
Commander Kyle's sharp eyes darted toward them. His gaze lingered on Hazen, and something in his chest tightened. There was a slight twitch in his jaw before he stepped forward, a furrow appearing on his brow.
"Everybody stop! You two, come here," his voice was like ice, slicing through the room.
"We? Me?" Hazen asked, pointing at herself, hoping she wasn't the target.
"Me?" Fatty echoed, confused and sweating even more.
Commander Kyle's eyes stayed locked on them, not answering their questions, his brow furrowing deeper. His presence seemed to weigh down on the room, making it hard to breathe.
"It's us, I think," Hazen whispered, stepping forward cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest.
"We're busted," Fatty muttered as they both walked up to Commander Kyle.
As they got closer, the air around Commander Kyle felt suffocating, thick with tension. There was something about the way his gaze hovered on Hazen that made the hairs on her arms stand up. Their footsteps faltered as they stood at attention, hearts pounding like drums.
"The rate at which your hearts are racing is alarming, don't you think?" Commander Kyle said lazily, his tone dripping with indifference. His eyes flicked between them, lingering a little longer on Hazen. He looked like he was listening to something only he could hear.
"Damn it, how could I forget? Vampires can hear heartbeats!" Hazen thought, panic creeping in. This felt less like training and more like a live horror movie.
"Oh shit!" Fatty thought, feeling like he might pee himself as Commander Kyle's gaze slid over him.
"You both dared slack off. Get on the ground and start seventy pushups," Commander Kyle stated, his voice calm but cutting through the room like a blade.
"Se...ve...nty pushups?" Fatty stammered, praying he'd misheard.
"Commander, please! We beg you to reduce the number. We can't do it," Hazen pleaded, her voice cracking as her arms burned in protest.
Commander Kyle's gaze fixed on Hazen's pleading expression. For a second, a strange feeling stirred in Kyle—something unexplainable and quick. He blinked, shoving it down.
"It's up to you whether or not you wish to stay in the barracks. If you fail to reach the required number, you'll be disqualified," he said flatly, turning his back to them and addressing the rest of the group.
"Everyone should keep their eyes on them. If you notice them slacking off, tell me when I get back," he ordered as he walked toward the exit.
"What was that feeling?" he thought, glancing back at Hazen before shutting the heavy metal door behind him.
---
"You two better start the pushups," a dark-skinned guy jeered from the crowd.
"Ha! He thinks because he managed to kill the Crimson Gorgoroth, he's so mighty," sneered another guy with a scar on his left shoulder.
"Yes, yes, I killed what you can't kill. So what if I'm mighty?" Hazen shot back, a smirk curling her lips despite the sweat.
"You..." the guy with the scar spat back, his face burning with embarrassment.
"Hazen, let's begin before the Commander returns," Fatty said, staring at the ground like it was the face of his worst enemy.
"Okay," Hazen replied, her smirk fading.
The two of them dropped to the ground.
"We've already done ten, we'll continue from there," Hazen suggested hopefully.
"No, you won't. The Commander said seventy, so you're doing seventy," the guy with the scar replied, his smirk widening.
"Shit, I shouldn't have argued with Nathan," Hazen thought, resigning herself to her fate.
Fatty turned to Hazen, his face pale. "Here we go," he muttered as if preparing for the end of the world.
"One, two, three, four…" The crowd sat on the ground, counting as Hazen and Fatty struggled through the pushups.
"Fatty, I'm so tired, and we're only at fifteen!" Hazen grunted, her arms shaking violently.
"I'm exhausted, Hazen!" Fatty replied, his body drenched in sweat, muscles screaming in protest.
Nathan watched with smug satisfaction as Hazen's grunts filled the air, her body trembling with every push. "I thought he was stronger than this," Nathan mocked in his mind, pleased by Hazen's struggle.
Hazen's muscles felt like they were tearing apart. Her arms, chest, and shoulders were on fire, and every breath felt like a knife in her lungs. "Should I just stop?" she thought, her body ready to give up. Then, a voice crept into her mind.
"I see how you wish to become stronger."
"Amoris, is that you?" Hazen asked, recognizing the voice instantly.
"Who else?" Amoris replied, almost amused.
"All my limbs are aching. I'm tired," Hazen said, barely able to think past the burning pain in her arms.
"Hazen, the future is deep. You wish to become stronger? Do you think someone becomes strong in a day? Such a lazy, lowly thing—there's really nothing your breed can do," Amoris taunted.
Anger surged through Hazen. The ache in her muscles paled in comparison to the fire in her chest. She couldn't touch Amoris, couldn't punch that smug voice, but she wouldn't give in. "Shut up, Amoris! We're not lazy!" Hazen snapped back in her thoughts. She gritted her teeth and pushed harder, speeding up despite the burning pain.
"Wow, you're so good at this," Fatty huffed, praying it would end soon, each pushup feeling like torture.
The door opened again, and Commander Kyle stepped in, his hands lazily tucked into his pockets. His eyes immediately went to Hazen, whose grunts were filling the room as she was sweating profusely. Something about watching Hazen push herself to her limit made Kyle pause, his gaze lingering on Hazen's open lips as he gasped for air.
"I wonder how my name would sound from those lips," he thought, an odd warmth spreading in his chest.
"What the Fuck am I thinking, his a man" he muttered with a frown on his head he stared at Hazen feeling pissed up.
"Make it one-fifty," Commander Kyle ordered, his tone harsh with irritation.
Nathan's eyes lit up with excitement. "We're counting to one-fifty now!" he called out, practically giddy.
Hazen heard the words and felt a wave of exhaustion, but something more powerful drove her. Her eyes darkened with determination. "I'm not lazy. I'm strong," she muttered, pushing through the pain.
Fatty's cries filled the room. "We're sorry for not practicing! Please forgive us!" he pleaded as he struggled to keep going.
Commander Kyle walked up to the table and sat on it, watching Hazen push through, his expression unreadable.
"Now, this is how it's supposed to be," he muttered, staring at Hazen, who didn't slow down despite the increased number. Hazen didn't flinch. Kyle couldn't help but feel something stir inside him again, but he buried it deep, where no one could see.