The sparring room was one of simplicity—polished steel walls, overhead lights casting stark, clinical beams, and a floor padded for impact but unforgiving of weakness. Cain stepped in, his boots clicking sharply before muffling against the mats. The faint hum of automated systems filled the air, a reminder of the ever-present machinery in Elohan’s tower.
Across the room, Renik waited, already stretching. The soldier was a hulking figure, his enhancements impossible to ignore. His arms were reinforced with cybernetic plating that glinted under the fluorescent light, and his left eye glowed faintly, an advanced targeting implant that gave him unparalleled precision in combat. Strips of neural wiring ran along the side of his neck, connecting to a port embedded at the base of his skull—a neural optimizer designed to enhance reaction speed and endurance.
?Ready to get bruised, Commander? I think this time I have a realistic Chance.? Renik’s voice carried a hint of playful malice as he rolled his shoulders, the movement emitting a faint mechanical whir.
Cain gave him a measured look, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. ?You’ve thought that every time, Renik. I’m starting to question your realism.?
Renik laughed, the sound deep and mechanical, likely filtered through a vocal modulator. ?One of these days, Cain. One of these days.?
Cain stepped onto the mat, his own movements fluid but precise. He tugged at the glove covering his prosthetic hand, ensuring it was secure. Where Renik's enhancements were about brute force and utility, Cain’s prosthetic arm was a masterpiece of lethal elegance. Matte with barely visible seams, it was built for adaptability—capable of crushing steel or gripping with a surgeon's precision.
?Let’s see if today is your day, then,? Cain said, settling into a fighting stance.
Renik charged first, his movements quick for someone of his size. His cybernetic fists blurred as they swung toward Cain, but Cain sidestepped smoothly, his prosthetic arm snapping up to block. The clash of metal on metal rang out, sending a jarring vibration up Cain’s arm.
?Still predictable,? Cain muttered, darting in with a counter-strike aimed at Renik’s exposed side.
Renik twisted away, his neural optimizer making minute adjustments to avoid the blow. ?Predictable keeps me alive,? Renik shot back, launching a low kick that forced Cain to hop back.
Cain didn’t give him the satisfaction of a smile. Instead, he feinted left, drawing Renik’s defenses to the side, before pivoting sharply and striking at the soldier’s ribs with his prosthetic. The blow connected, the dull clang of impact accompanied by Renik’s grunt. He stumbled back, his targeting eye flickering as it recalibrated.
?Nice hit,? Renik admitted, rolling his neck. ?You’re still too fast for your size. Doesn’t seem fair.?
Cain shrugged, adjusting his stance. ?Speed’s only unfair if you can’t keep up.?
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Cain’s eye flickered briefly, overlaying a stream of data across his vision. The sparring room schematics appeared in one corner, while an incoming file from Elohan’s office hovered at the edge of his focus. Synara’s profile pulsed in bright red: Caution advised. Known manipulator. Cain ignored it for now, centering himself back on the fight.
Renik came in again, faster this time. He feinted with his right before pivoting into a brutal left hook aimed at Cain’s jaw. Cain ducked under it, his prosthetic arm whipping out to grab Renik’s wrist. With a swift twist, he used Renik’s momentum against him, flipping the larger man onto the mat with a satisfying thud.
Renik grunted but rolled to his feet with ease, the optimizer compensating for the impact. ?Getting distracted, Cain?? he asked, smirking as he reset his stance. ?Saw your eye flicker. What’s got you so preoccupied??
?Nothing you need to worry about,? Cain replied curtly. He stepped forward, delivering a series of quick, precise strikes that forced Renik on the defensive.
For all his enhancements, Renik’s bulk made him slower than Cain, who used his natural agility to stay just out of reach. Still, the soldier was relentless, his blows coming in a steady rhythm designed to wear his opponent down.
The overlay in Cain’s eye shifted again, new files flickering into view: a dossier on recent political tensions in Synara’s district, Elohan’s warning repeated in bold letters. Synara will test you. Do not let her dictate the terms.
The distraction cost him. Renik landed a clean hit to Cain’s shoulder, the impact sending a sharp jolt down his arm. Cain gritted his teeth, resetting his focus.
?You’re off today,? Renik commented, stepping back to catch his breath. ?Normally, you’d have me on the floor surrendering by now.?
Cain ignored the jab, his focus narrowing. ≤Are you going to fight, or are you going to talk??
Renik laughed, rolling his shoulders. ?Fine. But don’t cry when I take you down.?
They clashed once more, fists and feet moving in a blur of calculated strikes and counters. Cain pushed harder this time, letting his frustration drive him. His prosthetic arm whirred faintly as it intercepted another of Renik’s blows, the force reverberating through the sparring room.
The overlay in his eye shifted again, this time displaying a dossier on Synara’s district. It detailed the sprawling greenery, her governance style described as ?free-spirited yet dangerously ambitious.?
Cain feinted left and drove forward, aiming for Renik’s midsection, but the larger man was quicker than he looked. Renik sidestepped, grabbed Cain’s arm, and used the momentum to slam him into the padded floor. The impact jarred Cain’s body, but he didn’t hesitate. He twisted, locking Renik’s arm as they rolled.
The spar turned into a wrestle, their grunts and the squeak of boots on the floor echoing in the sterile room. Renik had the advantage in brute strength, but Cain’s agility and precision evened the odds. His cybernetic arm strained as Renik tried to force it back, its servos whining under the pressure.
He shifted his weight, forcing Renik off balance. They rolled again, Cain ending up on top, his forearm pressing against Renik’s throat.
The overlay in Cain’s cybernetic eye flickered, pulling his attention. A dossier on Synara’s district appeared, the words stark against the dimly lit room. The text shifted, detailing sprawling greenery and the goddess’s reputation for unpredictability. Warnings about internal factions and whispers of unrest filled the margins.
Renik took advantage of Cain’s momentary lapse, bucking his hips and throwing Cain off. They separated, both breathing heavily as they circled each other.
“See?” Renik said, grinning through the sweat dripping down his face. “You’re not here. What is it—woman troubles? Another impossible mission from Elohan?”
Cain ignored him, the dossier fading from his vision as he refocused. ?You’re still talking,? he said flatly, lunging forward.
Renik anticipated the move, but Cain shifted mid-step, sweeping Renik’s legs out from under him. The larger man hit the ground with a heavy thud, and Cain followed, pinning him with his knee.
?Done?? Cain asked, his tone sharp.
Renik groaned, tapping the mat in surrender. ?Fine. Fine, you win.?
Cain stood, offering a hand to Renik, who took it grudgingly. ?You’re a piece of work,? Renik muttered, brushing himself off.
Cain grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat from his brow as the overlay in his eye pinged again. This time, it was a direct message from Elohan’s office, reminding him of the meeting with Synara. A final note flashed across his vision: ?Approach with caution. She respects strength but preys on uncertainty.?
Renik clapped a hand on Cain’s shoulder, his grin returning. ?Whatever’s got you distracted, deal with it before you get yourself killed.?
Cain gave him a curt nod, his expression unreadable. ?I’ll keep that in mind.?
As he left the sparring room, his thoughts shifted entirely to Synara. The fight had helped clear his head, but the pressure of the upcoming meeting pressed down on him like a coiled spring, ready to snap.
