We were running laps for a long time now. Anand was being escorted out of the premises, limping on his own, his face was a mess and one of his arms was visibly broken, but considering the horrible state he was in just a few moments ago, this was nothing short of a miracle.

After that, we spent almost an hour running before being separated into two groups. Mine was obviously the one who held people without supernatural capabilities. I wish I could say that our group looked somewhat dignified, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Some of us could run, that’s for sure. However most of the people running with us didn’t have any ability to help them at all. Either their power was too specialized or just useless.

The older people were mostly walking now. Richard helped Carl along the way, providing refreshments and encouragement.

Despite my looks, I was the only one still keeping at a strong pace. My exterior might look old, but my actual body reflected the perfect roll of my genetic lottery. I was just as fast as the top runners in my group, most of the time considerably faster.

During the afternoon, we climbed, did push ups, squats and a number of other pointless exercises. Stopwatches were clicking and whistles were being blown. The people in charge showed no mercy. Vomit, spit and blood. Nothing would suffice. We’re all numbers to them.

The moment we stopped another soldier was in our case. Screaming at us to do another exercise. Their contempt for us was palpable, but Sergeant Tilman was watching us closely. After Anand, any form of insubordination was nothing but a dream.

At the end, we were begging for this nightmare to stop, wondering how much testing was still ahead of us. Everybody was tense. Looking at each other, hoping for an answer. The people in charge of us were switching notes. Checking and rechecking the numbers. The fact that they still used pen and paper served only to lower the already low regard I had them in.

The sun was making his leave as a sharp whistle was finally heard in the distance. A cry for freedom. They told us that we were done for today and that our team formations would be announced tomorrow. I found it strange that they would determine this only by performing physical tests. It gave credit to the rumors that the Legionnaires were just a barbaric institution, but I’ve learned my lesson; when in doubt, keep your mouth shut.

During my journey back home I was wiped out. The physical and the mental stress weighed heavily one me, this was not the kind of environment I was accustomed to. The violence was something that I heard in the news, but never something I had to deal with personally. Flashes of Anand's mangled body reminded me just how out of my depth I still was.

However, there was a silver lining in this whole ordeal, Molly brought some good news.

“New enhancement unlocked.

Regeneration (I) is now available.

This enhancement focuses on stabilizing severe wounds while tripling your natural regeneration at all times. The effect is automatic.

Cost: 675 golden years.”

...

“Your salary has been deposited, fifty golden years were added to your bank account.

Current amount: 574 golden years.”

Interesting timing, I wonder if it was the events of today that prompted the system to give this particular enhancement. Regardless, I had to start earning more Company money so I could step up. The way things are going, any help I get might be life changing.

The trip back home was long, making me glad for the new self-driving cars, the opportunity to enjoy a well deserved nap instead of fighting against heavy traffic was a God sent. Before I realized it, the car parked by itself. A gentle voice prompted me to get out. I strolled right through the lobby and went straight to my apartment. I opened the door and found Sweeney still in the living room watching TV.

I put my keys on the table and hung my jacket on the coat rack.

“Do you do anything else besides watching TV and eating copious amounts of food?” I asked.

Sweeney turned her head slowly, her black hair tied up in a bun. She pointed at the bun and said. “I fixed hair too.” She slowly turned her head back to its original position. Pringles must have overheard our conversation because he came running. I held the tiny bugger in my arms as he did his best to lick my face, I counterattacked scratching his fluffy belly.

Interrupting our moment, Sweeney gave me the news.

“Vorenus and Spartacus were on the TV today. They said that they are in resentment of court for something.”

Strange that she didn’t mess up the names. “Contempt of court. For what?”

“They didn’t want to say from who they buy their stuff or something like that.”

From whom. I don’t care. “Did they get punished for it?”

“Yeah, they’ll have to pay a bunch of money.”

I snorted. “And who’s going to collect money from two of the strongest heroes on the planet?”

“I would. If they paid good.”

“You would take care of both of them?”

She didn’t even take her eyes off the screen. She just raised her shoulders and said. “Yeah” while putting a handful of chips down her throat, her entire hand inside her mouth.

Could she really take care of the strongest heroes on the planet? What kind of bodyguard was this? Another thing on my worry list to check on eventually. I barely started using my time-capsule and I was begging for more time in my blank haven. Today was a great example, I should have twenty four hours to do my homework and I still thought it wouldn’t be nearly enough. Kneading, shooting, reading and so much more. Another puzzle I needed to solve was what kind of corporation the Legionnaires were. There was a lot of gossip and little factual information on the subject.

When I searched the internet, there was a lot of gossip about them, but they were most of the time contradictory. There must be somebody who could enlighten me. Perhaps Julia, but at some point I would need somebody higher up who could paint a more clear picture. It made no sense for them to be that bad at what they do.

Putting those thoughts aside, I decided to enjoy a well-deserved bath. The steam rose as I stepped inside the shower, all the grime and sweat being washed down in a waterfall of pressured water. The bathroom was one of my favorite spots in the whole house.

As I closed the door the walls reflected a landscape that was previously chosen. I caught myself being really proud of the day I had, despite the many tough moments I went through. I experienced hell and now I’m in heaven. Work hard, relax harder. I shook my head, glancing at my pistol laying on the bathroom floor and I vowed right then and there that, if I ever said these words out loud, I would use it. What am I becoming?

I exited the shower feeling twenty years younger even though I was already down for fifty. Unfortunately, I didn’t have it in me to take Pringles for a walk today. It made me feel bad. The troublemaker deserved better. Maybe I will hire somebody to walk him twice a day. Probably will.

Laying in my bed, I thought about buying a new enhancement, but decided to save a little bit more and use it to buy regeneration. The memory option caught my eye but in the end survival was my number one priority. The hairs on my back stood up every time I remembered Anand’s barely alive body lying on the floor.

My dreams came to me quickly this time, tonight I was on my own.

The vast emptiness greeted me and I greeted it back. There wasn’t a single chair, tree or even a dot in the horizon. I wasn’t wearing a suit either. For the first time I had the same pajamas that I slept with. It felt strange, time was flowing in an absurd way. My internal clock couldn’t make heads or tails with these two lanes that it was forced to get accustomed to.

In one lane time flowed correctly just like it always did. However there was this weird place where a second lane of time also existed. It ticked a third of a second per second. I stood there breathing deeply until my body adjusted to it. I thought of Frank and the talk we had about mind manipulation. “If time runs faster than it should…” I kinda understand it now.

Arms over my head, I stretched in this strange land, even knowing that there were no real muscles to stretch, as far as I could tell. The only thing I could do here was my kneading practice, but that wasn’t enough. I knew other agents could bring things here, but I didn’t have a clue on how to do it. The first solution that crossed my mind was my dear Operator.

“Molly, how can I create or bring things here?”

“You don’t have the requirements to change your surroundings at this moment. Space manipulation inside of the time-capsule is an enhancement that you can unlock either by evolving the time-capsule tree or some other compatible trees. Unfortunately, there is no such enhancement available to you at the moment, but I would be happy to help you create the tools you need.”

“You’re the best Molly, but is there a chance that your help could end up costing me golden years?”

“Not if you are succinct. In my experience, making requests using one-liners is generally a safe approach.”

“Understood. I need Frank’s book. The stack of paper that Juliana gave me. A big table and a chair.”

The table and the chair were just like the ones I had back home. The stains on the wood, the little cracks accumulated over the years. It brought me memories of those countless nights I spent grading papers. Audrey would bring me tea and kiss me softly on the cheek, asking me not to sleep too late.

Lately I was feeling conflicted about her passing. I missed her dearly, but some part of me was glad that she wasn’t her to witness this strange part of my life. I didn’t have her to rein me back, to make me analyze the morality of each one of my actions. I didn’t know if I would want her to. I had this strong feeling that my path was set and this would be one of the few things that could truly drive us apart. Despite knowing so much about the vastness of the world, I found myself praying to a higher power to keep her safe wherever she is. Life can be full of contradictions.

Deciding to put these feelings aside for the moment, I cracked my fingers and went to work. Since I had twenty four hours at my disposal, I decided to use roughly six hours for each task. I started by reading Frank's book about how to make money. It was a light and fascinating read. He went in great detail on how rookies can earn money exclusively by being a representative for the firm. In my case, I could be a type of ambassador for them. If I could speak the client’s language, I would probably earn more, but just my presence was enough to earn a few bucks.

I set up a meeting through Molly. My favorite operator informed me that Cedric had put a restriction on which clients I were allowed to contact, I didn’t object. Soon after she arranged my first job opportunity. They were Skullians and already vetted by Frank. The pay was not bad at all. One hundred and twenty golden years for five hours of my time. According to the instructions the only thing I had to do was sit there. The best part of it was that the meetings took place inside the time-capsule so I asked her to book as many of these meetings as possible. I wanted to buy every single upgrade I had available to me, who knows how I can evolve them down the road.

Between the piles of documents Juliana lent me, there was already a dossie about the institution. It was listed as classified. Here I go again sub estimating someone close to me. It was becoming a regular pattern. Language acquisitions was growing, giving me the edge I needed over the people I interacted with. The troublesome part of it was knowing when to trust my new instinct. Usually my hunches were nothing but superficial readings of my interactions. Now, they were something else. I should lean a little bit more into them.

With that in mind, I focused on reading Juliana’s documents about the American Legionaires. To my surprise her commentaries covered pretty much everything. The facilities, the heroes, their personalities, the bureaucrats and her suspicions. There was no way that what she just handed to me was legal. It didn’t matter if this information was classified or not. The papers didn’t just tell what the institution was, but what they could be and the people responsible for their redundancies. It would take a long time for me to read through everything since just the summary was almost a book of its own, but it should be worth every page.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I skipped everything and looked up a hero that left a strong impression on me. I find her comments on Tilman particularly insightful.

“Sergeant George Woolard Tilman. Above-average mobility. Exceptional strength. Vast combat experience.

Almost invulnerable once protected by his metal exterior. One of the many heroes directly employed by the U.S government, he is considered a second tier powered. A stickler for rules, the Sergeant has shown himself to be easily offended. Main weakness: he is helpless when it comes to rules and bureaucracy.”

Shaking my head, I thought about Anand and the beating he could’ve avoided with just a little bit of information.

Moving on, I spent six hours kneading, as Oberyn would say. I expected it to be a tedious practice, trying to move the stubborn bluish flame; but it was rather pleasant, relaxing even. I could feel that kneading didn't take the same toll as it did in the beginning. I could easily maneuver this energy for an hour before I needed to rest, a striking difference from where I started. As I weaved the essence, I could feel my mind becoming calmer. There was something different about this exercise. It felt like I was organizing myself internally. Every parchment, book or pen was slowly getting dragged to its rightful place. This was something I could get used to.

Still, improvement came slowly. I could make the flame hop from one finger to another with ease now, but I couldn’t make it stay there, still not too shabby for a quarter of a day’s work. I spent the remaining time shooting targets that Molly was kind enough to provide. My draw continued to improve, but my aim was still horrible. It seemed like I wouldn’t become a marksman overnight either.

Marksmanship will come in due time, just having a special place to gather my thoughts was half of the battle. Between the meetings I would have to attend and my scheduled lessons, I found myself growing reluctant to share any more time here with outside people, not that I had much choice in the matter. I didn’t realize how much I needed a personal space to decompress. At the same time, I thought about how important it was for me to forge relationships at work, since I have so little power of my own. As my hands started to crumble I said goodbye to my resting place. Too much to ponder, too much to do, but I was alive and that is all that matters.