Sunlight peeked through Nate’s window as he stared in bewilderment. Last night had not been kind to him. His thoughts ran ceaselessly as anxiety gripped his emotions, throttling what little desire he had for rest into non-existence. Her face flitted through his mind: her smile, the little crinkles on her nose when she scrunched her eyebrows together in thought, even that cute pout she had last night, annoying as it was in the moment.

  Damn it all. I think I need to spend today by myself. Maybe go lift something heavy, Nate grumbled to himself and rolled off the bed. His frustration mounted in his thoughts as he changed and nearly burst out of his dorm room, careening into another person wearing a hoodie with their hood up.

  “Sorry,” Nate grumbled. The other guy grumbled something back incoherently and continued walking.

  “Wait, Huck?” Nate narrowed his eyes at his friend in confusion. “Wait a second-”

  “Busy. Gym,” Huck replied without turning back.

  “Yeah. Same.”

  That did get Huck to turn around. He gave Nate an appraising look before nodding slowly. “I know a good one. Not campus owned. Kinda small, but not crowded.” Without any explanation, he tossed a small package at Nate who fumbled the catch. It appeared to be some sort of nutrition bar advertising a meal on the go. “You’ll thank me for that later,” Huck waved Nate to catch up.

  Nate ate as he walked, taking small bites of the chalky protein bar mostly to be polite. He recognized that he probably should have eaten some sort of meal before dedicating time and frustration to a workout, but his frustration stopped him from thinking clearly.

  Right before the entrance of the Gym, Huck paused, turning to face his friend. “You remember the fight at the stairs?”

  Nate nodded.

  “Same thing here. You can spot me on weights while you’re resting, but don’t interfere unless I ask for it. Got it?”

  Nate nodded.

  They walked in together, stopping at the front desk to sign in and pay. The nearly empty Gym smelled simultaneously of sweat and cleaning solution.

  “See if all that muscle is good for something,” Huck swatted Nate’s chest and walked over to a bench where some guy was pressing a barbell loaded with plates. “What’s up, Mi?”

  Setting the bar down, the large man sat up, grinned, and slapped Huck’s hand in greeting.

  How could he possibly recognize that guy was Mi?

  “This is Nate,” Huck waved Nate over. “Met him before orientation. Seems like an alright guy.”

  Mi appraised Nate for a moment before simply stating, “We’ll see.” With that, he stood and motioned Nate toward the bench. “Show us what you’ve got.”

  Nate got into position and pushed to no avail. He struggled for everything he was worth and got nowhere. Just like with Jenna. The thought galvanized his body to push harder- to surpass his limits as rage-fueled adrenaline coursed through his muscles. Effort, sweat, shouting, muscles, and blood all worked in tandem to give that bar every ounce of Nate’s being as his frustration with himself coalesced into limit-surpassing glory. The bar raised an inch- two- right before Huck’s hand slammed it back to its resting place.

  “Dude. You’re not a Vanguard,” Huck shook his head. “You’ve got about 320 pounds on there. Check your weights before you get yourself killed.”

  “Yeah,” Nate panted for breath before sliding back off the bench. “Right. Maybe one of you could help me get the right weight. I don’t know much about lifting.”

  Mi and Huck glanced at each other before giving Nate’s large and fit frame a once over.

  “Sky-shattered genetics,” Huck scoffed. Mi nodded and rolled his eyes.

  The day passed as the group of young men lifted together, not so much talking as shouting in effort to raise ever-heavier objects off the ground. Nate found the effort and pain cathartic in a way that couldn’t rightly be described- akin to finally breaking free of a crowd so congested that no one could move forward. Huck never rested, opting to do sets again with Nate and Mi, encouraging them with every rep to keep up the effort and give it everything they had. Nate’s muscles were shaking after the first hour. After the second, they felt more like liquid pools of goop than solid muscle as the guys went through every muscle group in the body for what felt like the umpteenth time. It wasn’t until after the third hour that they were interrupted.

  “Lady Troubles, Inferiority Complex, Self-Loathing, get over here,” a gravelly voice called over to the group of young men, pointing at each of them. “I can spot your type a mile away.”

  Each of them sported a look of shock, pointing to themselves as if unsure if they were the ones being addressed or not.

  “What, we’re not welcome?” Huck finally answered with a challenge.

  “Not welcome? What? Heck no! If I turned down every young man raging against his inner demons I’d be out on my ass within the month. I called you over to tell you that you’re perfect candidates for my training program. I’m gonna work you till you drop. I’ll make you pump iron until every muscle fiber sheds tears. Then I’m gonna work you until your pain erases every problem you have. Weight training, cardio, fighting, I’ll put you through it all.”

  The trio looked at each other in confusion before Nate decided to speak up for the group, “I guess we’re waiting for the part where any of that is supposed to sound tempting?”

  “What do you mean?” the buff old man questioned. “That doesn’t sound like a good time to you? Blue skies above, kids these days. No one wants to put in the work anymore.”

  “I think we’ve got enough going on and precious little free time as it is,” Nate countered.

  “Hold up,” Huck placed a hand on Nate’s arm, looking interested in the strange man’s offer. “Let’s at least hear him out.”

  Note to self: Huck might be insane.

  “I get the whole ‘put forth effort’ thing, what I’m not hearing is the why,” Huck continued. “It’s one thing to get stronger for strength’s sake, but honestly, we’ll be getting a ton of training from the HPGD already. What makes you think your extra training could be any better than that?”

  “Better?” the man roared in laughter. “Better? By the time I’m done with you, you’ll make those Elites in your class look like washouts. I can hardly wait,” the man turned and laughed, leading Nate, Huck, and Mi to a rack of dumbbells as if their acceptance was a foregone conclusion.

  Glancing over at each other and shrugging, the young men followed the mysterious man towards the back of the Gym.

  “Who are you?” Nate questioned.

  The man frowned. “What’s the words above the entrance say?”

  “Hightower Gym,” Nate answered.

  “That’s me,” the man replied. “Now shut up and do as I say. I’ve never seen a more sorry lot of pathetic amateurs in my life, walking around like that killing yourselves.”

  “We put in good effort,” Huck argued sharply. “Everything we had! We put sweat onto the mat.”

  “Sure,” Hightower crossed his arms, presenting an imposing figure with a frame, stance, muscular definition, and height that would have intimidated most professional bodybuilders from the days before the apocalypse. “And what happens once your anger with yourselves runs out? You stop lifting? Get complacent? Sit back and relax while a demon spears an arm through your chest? The first stage of good technique is persistence. If I’m gonna personally train you, then I need to know I’m not wasting my time. You aren’t wastes of time, are you?” he glared at all three of them.

  “No,” Huck scowled, drawn in by the challenge.

  “No what?” Hightower demanded.

  “No sir!” Huck snapped back immediately, much to the apparent delight of the strange man.

  “Good,” Hightower smiled like a wolf let into the pigpen. “Then I expect you three here every Saturday at 5 in the morning from here on until you quit on me,” he gave a predatory grin, showing his gleaming white teeth. Nate couldn’t shake the feeling that they were about to make a deal with a devil, but nodded his ascent anyway. “No hesitation? Maybe you three might make it out alive after all. Come on, we’re going downstairs.”

  “Wait, why us?” Nate folded his arms across his chest. “This isn’t some weird bet you made with an HPGD coach where you train us up to compete, is it?”

  Hightower frowned at that. “No,” his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Those cowards stopped taking bets with me and the students I trained up years ago. Said their wages could afford the wager.”

  “You’re that confident?” Huck seemed impressed.

  “Shattered skies, yeah,” Hightower pounded his chest. “I’ve got a pretty impressive resume when it comes to training up Heroes.”

  “You’re that confident in us, though?” Huck pressed.

  In response, Hightower teetered his hand and gave a slight shrug. “I’ve seen better, to be honest. You’ve got some potential, though.”

  “Back to my question,” Nate cut in. “Why us? There was an entire gym of people upstairs, and I know there were bigger and better than us three.”

  “Maybe,” the large man shrugged. “But those guys show up for like 15 minutes and go about their days. You all stayed for half the day already and were still looking for more. That’s dedication to the craft. Most of those higher ups on campus don’t understand that potential isn’t even half of the equation. You can be the next Bastion, but that won’t mean a single dead demon if you don’t put in the work to get there. Life is more about dedication and pursuit than potential.”

  Nate frowned. “That sounds… like the opposite of what we’re told at Gate U. Except for Dean Anderson, everyone else seems to think that potential is the end-all-be-all.”

  “That’s because college fills your head with nonsense. In the real world, there’s surviving or there’s dying. That’s it- those are your two choices. Potential isn’t gonna save you from jack shit. If you wanna survive, then put in the work to stay alive. How’s that for a sales pitch?”

  Huck nodded his head in acquiescence. “Better. So what’s this program of yours that's gonna keep us alive out in the real world?”

  “Normally a ton of lifting,” Hightower answered. “But that’s only the start. And since you fine fellas got most of that bit out of the way already, then we move onto the next step for today: fighting.”

  “To the sparring ring?” Huck’s eyebrows shot up.

  “To the sparring ring,” Hightower affirmed, leading them all downstairs to an empty room filled mostly with a raised stage with rope around the perimeter.

  They gathered in the center of the empty ring in a loose circle. “This is hallowed ground,” Hightower began, “your crucible. This is where all your effort upstairs gets solidified into fruition and gains. This ring is where you prove yourself. This ring is where you practice survival because out of this ring, you will be fighting for your very lives. Lady Troubles! Punch Inferiority Complex here in the mouth.”

  “What?” Nate immediately drew away. “I’m not just gonna-” he was interrupted by a fist connecting with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground as his vision darkened for a moment.

  Hightower stood over Nate, shaking his head. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough. Hesitation out there will get you killed. Now stand back up.”

  As Nate was standing again, Hightower nodded his head toward Mi. “Self-Loathing. Teach Lady Troubles about hesitation again.”

  Mi gave Nate an apologetic look before swinging and connecting with Nat’s jaw again, once again sending Nate careening to the ground in pain. Hightower stood Nate back up, put a hand to his face and Healed him. Then he punched Nate in the jaw again sending him to the floor.

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  Nate cursed loudly when he came to. “Bloody abyss below and shattered skies above what the hell was that for?” he shouted, giving Hightower a death glare.

  “Because you’re a giant walking punching bag!” Hightower shouted back. “All target! No defense! And you just let yourself get hit! Today you woke up and made one good choice- coming here. Since then all you’ve done is hesitate and let other guys tell you what to do. How much should I lift? I don’t know the forms. We’re not doing that exercise again, are we?” Hightower openly mocked. “No one can tell you what weight and technique is right better than your own body. You feel it when you get it right. It's good to know good technique, but in the end, these guys are just trying to approximate the experience for you. Now stand up and punch Inferiority Complex in the mouth.”

  Picking himself up off the ground Nate swung a wild haymaker at Huck who leaned back slightly to avoid the frantic blow entirely. Huck actually scoffed at the punch. Nate just stood there shaking his head until Hightower’s fist connected with his chin. Again.

  Nate blinked himself back to consciousness from the ground as he stared wildly at the ceiling. “What the abyss,” he mumbled. His whole body hurt.

  “What’re you lying there for?” Hightower questioned him.

  “You punched me! Again!” Nate shouted back, unable to hide the heat from his voice.

  “And you don’t know why?” Hightower ventured.

  “No. Let me guess: some bullshit about being punchable.”

  “What were my instructions?” the man questioned.

  “Punch Huck.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.”

  “So you gave up on my assignment.”

  “No, I failed it, and then you punched me!”

  “I don’t recall telling you to try punching Inferiority Complex. I told you to punch him,” Hightower countered. “Now stand up and punch him. Or rather: don’t stop trying until you succeed.”

  Nate groaned, but rolled to his feet and threw another wild punch, which Huck easily sidestepped. With a glance at Hightower, Nate caught the man raising an eyebrow and cocking his arm back. No longer hesitating or checking to see if he was doing the right thing, Nate moved toward Huck and threw a follow-up jab and missed again.

  “Damn. He does learn,” Hightower muttered sardonically. “Self-loathing, go help Lady Troubles.”

  Wordlessly, Mi turned and tackled Huck to the ground. Grabbing Huck’s arms and grapevining his legs, Mi rolled to present Huck’s face and Nate finally connected with a loud crack. Pain shot up Nate’s entire arm causing both he and Huck to curse loudly.

  “What the hell!” Huck shouted at Hightower.

  “Not bad, Self-Loathing, not bad,” Hightower nodded appreciatively. “Now the two of you punch Self-Loathing in the mouth,” he nodded toward Mi as the target this time.

  Without warning, Huck’s head snapped backward, connecting with Mi’s nose with an ugly crunch and a mist of blood. He rolled out of the now loose hold Mi had on him and followed up with a quick jab into Mi’s mouth. Mi, for his part, recovered quickly, trying to get off the ground and sat up to get on his feet again- which is exactly when Nate landed his haymaker, knocking the young man on his back again. Nate’s fist must have caught Mi’s tooth, as the skin on his hand split wide open revealing white bone with a spray of blood. Nate’s vision whitened with pain as he cradled his shattered and split hand.

  “Alright, that’s enough,” Hightower stopped them, kneeling first to Heal Mi, then Nate. “The three of you: fifty pushups- time now,” he instructed. As the young men moved to obey, he continued to speak, “Now I know where to start with you lot. While some of you obviously have more experience in combat than others,” he stared pointedly at Huck, “none of you are so far ahead that you need different starting places in your training. Which is good news for me. I’m sure right now you’re questioning why the hell you’re even listening to me at this point. That’s fair. And you certainly don’t have to listen to me at all. All I ask for now is you keep with me for another ten minutes. Then after your first combatives class, see if you don’t come back begging for more.” He paced in front of the young men as he spoke, watching each of them hit their limits and collapse well before hitting 50 pushups. “How many did you get done?”

  “15,” Nate groaned, rubbing his arms. “I’d do 50 easily, if we didn’t just come back from a three hour work-out.”

  “Done,” Huck sat up, his eyes challenging Hightower to say otherwise.

  “Done? Good. Do another 50. What about you, Self-Loathing?”

  “32,” Mi answered through his teeth.

  “So now that the two of you failed my assignment, you think you’re finished?” Hightower stopped pacing to instead drill his gaze into Mi and Nate. “Do you think Humanity has room for Heroes that quit?”

  “No,” Nate got back into position with an angry huff of breath and began pushing again.

  “No? What about you, Self-Loathing? Do you agree with your friend?”

  Mi nodded his head and followed suit.

  “And what about you, Inferiority Complex?” Hightower pushed.

  Huck paused his pushups to stare directly into the large man’s eyes. “There’s still plenty of room for Heroes six feet underground.”

  “Stand up,” Hightower commanded. Huck obliged. “It seems your pals still need to learn that lesson. How many did you get through on your second set?”

  “Another 30,” Huck answered immediately.

  “Good. The last 20 go to each of those guys. Count it out for them.”

  Nate struggled for air, let alone another pushup. But with Huck and Mi standing there watching, something inside him wouldn’t let him be the weak one here. He wouldn’t stay the punching bag. After some grueling minutes and with shaking arms, Nate finished his set.

  “Well done,” Hightower nodded. “Now you probably think that was ten minutes, and you learned nothing. Let me be clear: pushups are on your own time, not mine.” With that, he laid hands on both Nate and Mi, Healing them as he continued to speak. “For the next ten minutes, we’re going to move on to a little game I like to call ‘tag’. Lady Troubles, your target is Self-Loathing. Self-Loathing, your target is Inferiority Complex. And Inferiority Complex, your target is Lady Troubles. Using only punches and footwork, your goal is to score as many points as possible. You score a point when you land a clean punch to your target’s head. The two losers do another 50 pushups in tandem while the winner gets to lay across their backs. Go.”

  Nate’s head rang as Huck scored the first point.

  “Keep your guard up, Lady Troubles,” Hightower instructed. “Fists tight against your head like this.”

  The bout went on with Huck, Mi, and Nate all chasing each other in a circle.

  “You’re not trying to knock each other out here! Use quick, straight jabs, not wild haymakers!” Hightower instructed intermittently. “Keep your guards up or you’ll get got!”

  Keeping tabs on your target while also trying to avoid the guy targeting you was nearly impossible for Nate. Huck landed blow after blow on the side of Nate’s face, his grin growing wider by the minute as he widened his point lead over the other two.

  “Lady Troubles, if I have to tell you one more time to keep your guard up I will personally dedicate my life to ingraining that lesson into your thick skull.”

  With a groan, Nate lifted his aching and tired arm back up, blocking Huck’s next jab. Through sheer effort of will, he snapped out a jab towards Mi. Thankfully Mi seemed just as distracted as Nate was, splitting his attention between a target and an attacker so Nate didn’t embarrass himself pointwise, but by his count, the scores weren’t even close. In the last few minutes, exhaustion played a large role in the group dynamic. Each of Huck’s jabs sent a spray of sweat into Nate’s eye, who suspected he was doing the same thing to Mi. His arms felt like jelly while his legs ached and refused to move as Mi danced out of reach. Unable to catch up, Nate tucked his chin and brought both arms up in an attempt to not get hit- an effort which proved at least moderately successful.

  “Time!” Hightower’s voice boomed through the small sparring ring. “All of you, come here.” He laid hands on both Mi and Nate again, healing their bruises, cuts, scrapes, and fractured hand bones, while purposefully neglecting their sore and overworked muscles. “Good effort,” he gave a slight nod of approval. “Now I believe two of you owe me pushups. Lady Troubles and Self-loathing! On the ground! Inferiority Complex, don’t just stand there, add your weight to their routine.”

  With Huck laying across both Mi and Nate, they dipped down to start their first pushup. Huck’s added weight wasn’t so much as to make the task impossible, but as tired as their arms were, getting even a single pushup felt impossible. Especially since they had to coordinate their effort.

  “Zero!” Hightower counted off for the umpteenth time as Mi came back up without Nate. “I asked for 50 pushups and you lot can’t even give me one? Both down, both up. I didn’t think this was a complex task, but you seem to be doing everything in your power to prove me wrong. Coordinate with each other! No! Keep proper form, head straight ahead. Feel the other guy’s movements- know what he’s doing and what he’s about to do. You feel he’s struggling to get up? Shift to take on more weight. Teamwork makes the dream work. Zero! Do it again!”

  Nate’s arms could barely support his own weight by this point, let alone half of Huck’s. After what felt like hours of trembling and digging into his willpower deeper than he’d ever tried for anything before, his arms finally collapsed from under him.

  “Still zero,” Hightower barked out. “Inferiority Complex, you just gonna lay there and waste away while your buddies put in the work to make themselves stronger, or are you gonna start pushing yourself to get stronger too?”

  “But you-”

  “But nothing,” Hightower interrupted in a roar. “Now get down and start pushing before your buddies leave you in the dust!”

  About an hour later, they’d finally finished pushing. Well, Nate finally finished pushing. Mi and Huck had both finished their 50 well ahead of their friend and shouted along with Hightower to keep Nate motivated.

  His arms hurt like they never had before in his life. No matter how he screamed and pushed and willed himself to do more, Nate just couldn’t get even a fraction of an inch higher.

  “One. More,” Huck encouraged. “C’mon, Nate. You got one more in you. Just one.”

  “This is what it comes down to,” Hightower lectured softly, pacing back and forth in front of Nate. “Survival. Life or death. All of it comes down to this question. When your body says it has nothing left, do you believe it?”

  Air ran raggedly through Nate’s lungs as the sweat of effort poured off his face. One inch. Two. Little by little, he gained ground on his task as he surpassed every limit he thought he had as he shoved down every thought of what was impossible and brought forth more than he knew he was capable of doing. His arms screamed in pain as something like fire jolted through his nervous system. His form grew sloppy, sagging in the middle before Huck or Hightower shouted him back into a straight line. He pushed, never giving ground, never giving up, never succumbing to a mindset of weakness or inability until finally, finally, his fully extended arms held up his body.

  “Fifty!” Hightower screamed loud enough to shake the room.

  Adrenaline left Nate’s body as he collapsed to the ground, his gorge rising in his throat. With Hightower’s Healing hand on his back however, nothing more than that happened, but Nate still had an odd taste of metal in his mouth.

  “Good effort today, you three,” Hightower nodded in full sincerity. “You’ve all earned my respect in these past few hours. That’s not something just anyone can do.” Nate felt more than saw Hightower’s gaze linger on him for a moment. “You sure you’re not an Eternal or something?”

  Nate, still gasping, his body mostly numb in an attempt to recover, barely managed to shake his head.

  “Built like a Vanguard, but he’s a Reader,” Huck answered simply.

  Hightower grunted, his lips forming a momentary frown. “Just a Reader?”

  “Imbuer too, I guess,” Huck shrugged noncommittally.

  Hightower grunted again. “Shame. He’s got the mindset and willpower to make him one of the best Eternals I’ve ever seen. See, Eternals tend to have exactly one weakness- they give up when their bodies do. They have so much endurance, they don’t know what to do when it runs out.”

  “I’m an Eternal,” Huck frowned. “No one’s got more fight than me.”

  Hightower took a long moment to look into Huck’s eyes. “And yet you never pushed yourself so hard that you actually failed a single one of my instructions. That’s why no matter how good you get, you still find yourself left in the dust.”

  Huck’s gaze dropped. He didn’t reply.

  “That’s good. Now you see where you’re really failing. Conquer that and I might need to remember your name, Inferiority Complex. You three keep bringing me this energy and I’ll make Heroes out of you yet. But what you all need most right now is food, hydration, and rest. Whatever you do tomorrow, I better not see any of you in my gym, understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Nate and Huck chorused while Mi nodded along.

  “Good. I hope I helped unleash some of your pent-up frustrations today. If any of you wish to continue, 5 AM next Saturday, right here. Now get your scrawny asses home and start resting!” Hightower barked.

  Nate, Mi, and Huck scrambled up the stairs and out the door. Sweaty, sticky, and sore as they were, their scramble was more of a hobbled limp, but effective enough to at least propel them back to the safety of the city.

  “We’re never going back there, right?” Nate looked at his two teammates.

  Huck shrugged. “I kinda liked it.”

  “You won. Of course you liked it,” Mi countered.

  Nate frowned and gave Mi a discerning look. “You talk?”

  “Not often,” Huck answered instead as Mi just shrugged. “But he’s not mute like that Bianca girl.”

  “She’s mute?” Nate asked incredulously.

  “Don’t you remember Dean Anderson during introductions? He was the one who said everything. And Gustav told me she didn’t talk at all during the scavenger hunt either.”

  “Gustav… who was Gustav again?”

  Huck frowned at Nate, giving him a concerned look, “Have you spoken to anyone who isn’t Jenna?”

  Nate just rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. “Not really. Fiona, I think?”

  Mi grunted something like a laugh, “Lady Troubles.”

  “Gustav was the loud one,” Huck explained, “with the joke about his ex?”

  Nate frowned and shook his head.

  Rolling his eyes, Huck continued, “Shorter than me? Brown hair? Purple eyes?”

  “Ohhhh,” Nate nodded in recognition. Short as Huck was, managing to be an even shorter guy was something of an accomplishment.

  “But seriously, you want to go back there next Saturday?” Nate gave Huck and Mi another incredulous look.

  “Hightower might be a little off his rocker, but he’s got the right mindset for training Heroes,” Huck’s answer was full of assuredness. “Remember when we met on the train what I said about being a good Hero in Philly? Being a good Hero won’t cut it out there in the real world- not if you have aspirations of living more than a few years after graduating. We have to be great Heroes to have a chance at living. The man gets it. I’ll give Hightower a few weekends and see how far the guy’s teaching gets me.” Mi nodded his assent.

  With a sigh of longsuffering, Nate gathered his will and relented. “What he said back there- about me being a punching bag. That’s not who I want to be.”

  Huck nodded along. “Well said. And if you’re afraid of being a punching bag, remember: in there you’re not a punching bag- you’re Lady Troubles.” He swatted Nate’s chest with the back of his hand, a grin spreading maliciously across his face.

  Nate groaned, half from the force of the blow and half from his very sore muscles. “Okay, Inferiority Complex. Give it a rest, would you?” Nate shot back, though unable to muster the strength to return the strike.