“Ughhh.”

  I groaned as I woke up, feeling like I’d passed out in a terrible position out oreet again. What had even happehe st thing I remembered was-

  The dream, the fight, being saved, pung.

  Right! I had a Master now. An actual master. I’d been in a fight to the death and been saved by that old man. He, he actually took me on as a student! And then… and then I punched and punched and punched and-

  “O.”

  My whole body felt so sore. Every muscle in my arms were practically screaming at me and I felt so tired even after waking up. It was like my blood had been repced with lead and then pounded down into shape with iron. It hurt. Not like the white hot agony of being broken apart. But still, it hurt.

  Pierg blue eyes stared down at me.

  “Punch it.”

  Huh?

  “W-What?”

  “You heard me. Punch it.”

  My Master’s head turned, staring at something I’d not made any noticeable mark on. The pung bag. Still just hanging there, in the same position it always was. My Master, wanted me to punch it? But…

  “I think I o go to the healing tank.”

  “No. Punch it.”

  There was a serious look in my Master’s eyes. No jokes as I woke up, no ung attitude or nonce. He was fully serious about me pung the damn bag again. But, I’d just, I’d just passed out pung the damn thing! I even bcked out. I could hardly stand right now, let alohrounbsp;

  “But, Master I-”

  “If you don’t want to get stret out.” He said, staring me down. “If you’re still breathing, you throunch. So, Punch It.”

  My heartbeat sped up. It was like the whole weight of the world was o was hard enough to throw pu it normally but like this? Could, could I eve up?

  “I told you. You must do your best. Punch it.”

  I gulped. This was the test right? I had to show my resolve. That was the point. That I could keep going no matter what. That I would really do my best, no matter what. That I had the drive and will to be the stro, to actually be the oo take down Vega. I took a deep breath, tering myself. I wasn’t going to waste this ce. Even if I had to punch this damn bag for a million, no, a billion years!

  I wasn’t going back. To that horrible day, to that horrible trip, to the years spent begging and pleading and trying and w only to be crapped oen up, and eve for dead. To getting drunk aing the world pass me by in a haze. To gettio death and only being saved by a random old man’s mero, never again.

  I tried to get back up… and failed. I blinked in shock before a wave of pain hit me. My muscles were toast, some might eveorn. I had to grit my teeth as my exhaustion tried to lull me to sleep along with the pain.

  I pushed.

  I sat up.

  I stood.

  “Punch it.” Came the words from the old man, his stare never leaving me.

  “Yes Master.” I mao say.

  I punched and couldn’t resist letting out a wince. My fists didn’t like that o. I wasn’t strong and my durability wasn’t high either. I already felt like my knuckles were bruised. My punch practically swam through honey before it finally hit the bag. My sed punch was a bit faster but it was like I had bee rigid iron, piloting a body that didn’t want to move.

  I kept going, exhaustion g at me. I hadn’t had much time to rest. However long I’d been out, it hadn’t been long enough. Minutes passed and I could feel myself slowing down.

  “Faster. Harder.” My master said, his words f me to do just that.

  Over and ain. My body pined, fiercely, but it was just a work out. I just had to, keep going. Over and over and ain. Before long, it all seemed to fall away. My punches went forward, over and ain. My fists smag into the grey material, the soft thumps eg out. The sweat dripping off my form, my body swaying, and always my master’s words flowing into my ears.

  “Faster.”

  “Harder.”

  “Punch it.”

  “Punch it.”

  “Punch it.”

  I could feel my chest heaving, my eyes drooping, my soul feeling exhausted. Just had to punch it. Just punch it. All I had to do to beat Vega unch it. Punch, punch, punch, punch. The bag ahat was all there was. Empty words and the endless bag. I didn’t stop and my stamina was holding me up better this time.

  Punch the bag.

  Hit the bag.

  My arm moves forward, it hits the bag.

  Again and again and again.

  Sweat hits the ground, the bag resists, the words blur. Iron pushes forward, endless blows rain down like droplets in a storm. Always moving and going, alushing forward. Light begins to blur and in that darkness it’s only me and only the bag. Time halts and keeps going at the same time. Ay awaits me a’s the same stop as the first.

  ‘Punch it.’

  Just had to punch it.

  .

  .

  .

  The old man watches as his student finally starts to get the memo. He’d been embarrassed when he’d passed out but at least he was finally starting to get it. He’d entered a good ole workout trahat should st him at least a few hours.

  The old man frowns. He fot how weak his udent was.

  Maybe half an hour…

  How ridiculous. The problem with his udent in for him to see. He was too soft. His will was weak.

  Well he’d fix that right up. There was always a surefire way to make people’s will stronger.

  Just put them through hell.

  .

  .

  .

  Punch… punch… punbsp;

  Punch… punch… punbsp;

  “Faster.”

  Punbsp;

  “Harder.”

  Punbsp;

  Punbsp;

  P…unbsp;

  “Get up. Punch it.”

  Get up? I was just, just catg my breath. God, I felt so tired. I just wao go to sleep. How long had I been doing this? But I just, just had to keep throwing, throwing my punches. Just had to. Just had to.

  “Get up.”

  Up? I wasn’t, I wasn’t sitting down.

  “Up.”

  I could feel the cool crete under my hand. I felt so hot. So tired. I just, just o rest for a little while.

  “Vega will kill you.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “If this is all you amount to, Vega will kill you.”

  The words were backed up by some of Master’s aura, cutting through my tired mind like a knife. Vega. What was I doing?! When had I even sat down? I don’t remember. I had to kill him. How could I lose to something so measly as being tired?

  I got up and threw another punch. My arm hurt, my knuckles hurt, my vision swam again, but my feet stayed pnted. Again. Again. Again!

  Again!

  Punch after punch left me. And disgust and anger filled me. Every punch seemed to scream at me. I still had this much left in me? I still had another punch? Aen? Another hundred?! And I was going to y down befiving it my all? What a fool I was.

  No wonder I’d never gotten stronger. I’d never wa enough.

  I wouldn’t stop. With every punew vi filled me. I imagihe bag as Vega’s evil face. Till every blow smash him apart, till every punch breaks him like he broke me, I ’t stop.

  I won’t stop.

  Never.

  I kept going, but the body, it’s a betrayiress. The fire in me could only st so long. Before long, it began to scream at me. Every muscle pulled, every sed seemed like I was fighting through a wave of siess, my breaths came heavy, sweat stuck to every part of me, and began to feel disgusting. I’d fought through the exhaustion but all that awaited me oher side were these awful sensations.

  There was no trahis time. Just the endless repeating motion of pulling my arm bad pushing it forward. Having my ag knuckles hit a bag, over and ain. My shoulders ached. My mind began to skip, as if I hadn’t gotten sleep in a very long while.

  I heaved, holding the bag just to stand up. My master’s words came and hit me like an old wound and sore in one.

  “Punch it.”

  I tried. I threw a final punch. The same punch as any other, except far weaker than even by normal standards.

  And then it all went dark again.

  .

  .

  .

  When I woke up, my body felt even worse than st time. I let out a silent scream as my body told me exactly how it felt about what I was doing. Every muscle hurt. It was a different pain, one I wasn’t used to, and my face twisted in agony. Silent tears fell down.

  I’d pushed too far. Far too far.

  “Punch it.”

  The words were like the deepest coldest horrors. My face paled, terrripped me. There… there was no way right? I was in so much pain… I’d passed the test right? We could, surely we could take a break already right?! I didn’t even know what day it was…

  My master stared down at me, face like an ung mountain. Eyes staring directly into my soul and finding nothing worth anything.

  “Punch it.”

  Those words were repeated, over and over. I could barely think. The pain coiled around and through me unlike anything I’d ever experienced. My mind barely had the energy to gee an a, let alohought.

  I got up. I cried. My body screamed. I don’t know how I did it.

  I pulled back, I screamed. I punched, my knuckles lit up in agony.

  I barely sted a minute. I didn’t pass out this time. But I colpsed. The cold crete hit me like a punch from Vega.

  I y there, writhing with every movement causing even more pain.

  “Hmm. Well, I suppose this is good enough for today.”

  A hand grabbed me, the force of it causing a pained groan to escape me.

  “You’ll be spending most of yhts in the healing tank from now on.” I felt a stabbing in my arm, only to see a needle in it. When, where? “For the nutrients. We don’t have time to waste with you eating right now. The healing tank will deal with the dehydration but I’ll get something for that tomorrow anyway. A basic IV should work while you're passed out. Bah, I’ll have to get some actual water too won’t I? Well, whatever.”

  I barely could take the words in, my body barely able to focus on anything.

  “gratutions kid. You made it past day one. We’ll be doing the exact same thing tomorrow.”

  I cried in a different kind of pain this time.

  Warix_Viviana