Chereads / The Shadows of an Agent's heart / Chapter 7 - Chapter 7: Gregor's Training (Part 3)

Chapter 7 - Chapter 7: Gregor's Training (Part 3)

The following morning arrived far too soon for Mikey's aching body. He felt as though he'd been hit by a truck. Despite this, a part of him was starting to look forward to the challenge. Each day of training had brought something new, something that forced him to push beyond his limits, both physically and mentally. He wasn't just surviving anymore; he was learning.

When he arrived at the training hall, Gregor was already there, along with Dom, Evelyn, and Cole. This time, the atmosphere felt heavier, more intense. Mikey had the sinking feeling that today was going to be different. Maybe harder.

Gregor wasted no time. "Today's session is going to focus on tactical combat. You've built some strength and learned to work with others, but now we're going to see how you handle pressure when the stakes are higher."

Mikey's heart sank a little at the mention of "combat." Sure, they'd done some physical drills, but nothing that could truly be called combat training. He had no formal fighting experience, and the thought of going up against people who might have already been trained was daunting.

Gregor must have noticed Mikey's uncertainty because he continued, "You won't be fighting each other, at least not yet. Today, we'll be working with simulated opponents. But make no mistake—the simulations are designed to feel real. They will hit hard, and they won't hold back."

Mikey swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He'd heard of simulations like this before, where the technology made it feel like you were in a real fight. The idea of being hit without knowing what was coming made his nerves hum with anxiety.

"We'll be running this drill in stages," Gregor explained. "First, we'll assess your basic hand-to-hand combat skills. After that, we'll introduce you to different scenarios where you'll need to think tactically. This isn't just about brute force—it's about using your environment, making quick decisions, and knowing when to strike and when to retreat."

Evelyn and Cole were already suited up in light combat gear, and Mikey was handed a similar set by Dom. The gear was surprisingly lightweight, but it felt secure. As he adjusted the straps, he noticed Gregor's watchful gaze, as if the man were already calculating how much Mikey could handle today.

"You're up first, Mikey," Gregor said, stepping back and motioning for him to enter the simulated combat arena.

The arena was a large, open space, with holographic emitters lining the walls. As Mikey stepped inside, he could feel the subtle hum of the machinery activating around him. The air felt charged with energy, and a faint shimmer passed through the room as the simulation came to life.

Without warning, a holographic opponent appeared before him—a muscular, imposing figure with sharp features and a predatory stance. Even though it wasn't real, the level of detail in the simulation made Mikey's pulse quicken. The figure moved fluidly, its eyes locking onto Mikey's as if it were a living, breathing threat.

"Remember," Gregor's voice came through the earpiece. "This is about strategy, not just strength. Stay calm. Analyze your opponent. Find their weaknesses."

Mikey barely had time to process the advice before the holographic opponent lunged at him. He instinctively jumped back, but not far enough—the figure's fist grazed his side, knocking the wind out of him. The force of the blow surprised him, and for a moment, he forgot that it was just a simulation. The pain was real.

He stumbled but quickly regained his footing. His mind raced as he tried to remember what little combat knowledge he had. The opponent was strong and fast—too fast for Mikey to just stand his ground and trade blows. He needed to use his speed and agility to his advantage.

The opponent came at him again, and this time, Mikey sidestepped the attack, ducking low and aiming a punch at its midsection. His fist connected, but the opponent barely flinched. Mikey cursed under his breath. He had to hit harder, but more importantly, he had to be smarter.

Gregor's voice echoed in his ear again. "Good, you're adapting. Now think—what's your next move?"

Mikey didn't have time to think. The opponent was on him again, throwing a rapid series of punches and kicks. Mikey dodged most of them, but one kick caught him in the leg, sending him sprawling to the ground. Pain shot up his thigh, but he gritted his teeth and scrambled to his feet.

His mind raced. He couldn't keep dodging forever—he needed to find an opening. As the opponent advanced, Mikey noticed something in its movements. It was fast, yes, but its attacks were predictable, almost mechanical. If he could anticipate the next move, he might have a chance.

The opponent lunged again, aiming a punch at Mikey's chest. But this time, Mikey was ready. He sidestepped the punch and, using the momentum of his opponent's missed attack, he delivered a sharp elbow to the figure's ribs, followed by a kick to the back of its knee.

The opponent staggered, and for the first time, Mikey felt a surge of confidence. He pressed the advantage, landing a series of punches to the figure's midsection and head. The holographic opponent flickered slightly with each hit, but it didn't go down easily.

After what felt like an eternity, the opponent finally collapsed, flickering out of existence as the simulation ended. Mikey stood there, panting heavily, sweat dripping down his face. His body ached all over, but the adrenaline coursing through him masked the worst of the pain.

"Well done," Gregor said as he approached. "You're a quick learner. You adapted to the situation and found your opponent's weaknesses. But remember, that was just the first stage. Things are going to get more complex from here."

Mikey barely had time to catch his breath before the next challenge was laid out. This time, it wasn't a single opponent. The room transformed into a maze-like environment, filled with obstacles, hiding places, and multiple holographic enemies. Mikey's task was simple: survive and neutralize as many opponents as possible while navigating the maze.

The simulation started again, and Mikey found himself in the center of the maze. The walls were high, and the lighting was dim, casting long shadows across the narrow pathways. He moved cautiously, his senses on high alert. Every sound, every flicker of movement could be an enemy.

The first opponent appeared from around a corner, moving silently but swiftly. Mikey reacted quickly, ducking behind a nearby wall and waiting for the right moment to strike. As the figure passed by, he lunged, grabbing the opponent by the arm and throwing him to the ground. A swift punch to the head ended the encounter.

But there was no time to rest. Another opponent appeared, and then another. Mikey moved through the maze, using the environment to his advantage—climbing over walls, ducking under obstacles, and setting traps for the holographic enemies. Each encounter was a test of both his physical and mental endurance, and as the simulation wore on, Mikey could feel his body beginning to tire.

Just when he thought he couldn't take any more, the simulation ended. The maze dissolved, and Mikey found himself standing in the empty training hall once again, drenched in sweat and gasping for air.

Gregor and Dom approached, both of them wearing expressions of approval. "You did well," Gregor said, his tone more encouraging than before. "You've got the instincts. Now you just need to refine them."

Mikey nodded, too exhausted to respond verbally. His body felt like it was about to collapse, but he couldn't help feeling a sense of accomplishment. Each day, he was getting stronger, faster, smarter. He was becoming someone capable of handling the world his parents lived in.

As they dismissed him for the day, Mikey limped back to his room, his mind racing with everything he'd learned. He was far from mastering the skills Gregor and Dom were teaching him, but he was getting closer. And with each day of training, he was becoming more determined to prove himself.

This was only the beginning.