There was a noise. It’s soft, but it didn’t belong here. James woke up and held his breath while he listened. Footsteps sound out softly from the next room over, and they were getting closer. He bolted upright, the unfamiliar room fueling the momentary panic that overtook his mind. Reacting without thinking, he got to his feet and faced the plain wooden door. This door swung open, equally quiet, and a giant stepped into the room. Even in the dark, the man’s eyes are flickering golden, as if inhabited by their own tiny flames.

“Good, you’re awake. That is the first pleasant surprise so far. Let’s try to build on it. We only have one day for training so let’s make the most of it.” The strong tenor voice and the greek toga snapped all of the unreality of yesterday into focus. James felt his heart slow down, and he nodded his assent to the Demi-god before following him into the next room.

That’s right. It’s Prometheus. The really, really, real Prometheus. It’s time for some game face, James. I don’t think you made the best first impression so let’s put a little effort into today.

“Well, don’t stand there looking stupid. Sit down and eat. We’re on a timer.” Prometheus said as he sat down. His tone hadn’t changed at all, the same completely detached tenor.

James sat down and uncovered the bowl. It was the same thin fish soup from yesterday. He ate mechanically, not feeling it but knowing that he would most likely need the energy. A million little flickering neurons slowly started working, like old fluorescent bulbs in an abandoned office building. Finally, after his mind had some semblance of working order, he realized that his food and drink were finished. He wondered how long he’d been a sleepwalking drug zombie.

“Prometheus, how long was I drugged out of my mind?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. That is between you and Tiamat. You can ask her yourself, provided you take this seriously and survive that long. Now, do you have any questions that aren’t a complete waste of time, or should we be going?” The annoyance crease was present, letting James know that the irritation in his voice wasn’t just for show.

“Actually, I do. I think I understood most of that crazy computer projection screen that popped up, but is there a way to inspect some items with a little more detail? I couldn’t figure some of the information specific to me out. All I managed was a pretty basic tutorial. It was helpful, but I still don’t know what my affinity or my ability does.”

“I was going to cover that a little later, but now is fine. Once your screen is open, just state ‘Inspect’ and whatever specific item you’re trying to find the information about. That will work for anything ReGS related, but your affinity should be pretty straightforward. Is it one of the odd ones? If so, it will not make this easier. What is it?”

“I don’t think it’s working right. It just says Null.”

“What?” The exclamation wasn’t loud for a normal person his size, but for the soft-spoken and reserved Colossus sitting in front of me, it was the equivalent of screaming while waving his hands. “You’re a Null? Fucking eagles and rocks, could this assignment get much worse?”

“Is that bad? It sounds bad, like capital B, Bad. How bad is it?” James noticed his voice kept going up in octaves, but his stress coping mechanisms were all stripped bare and he was feeling a bit raw.

“Calm down. Inspect it and your ability yourself, and then we’ll go over it. As soon as you’ve seen it, tell me what you’ve seen and what your ability is.”

James took a deep, steadying breath. “Inspect Null”

Affinity Null The Æther in all its myriad forms is a stranger to you. Your body and soul do not naturally harmonize with any affinity of Æther. All abilities that use a specific affinity will take 50% more power to use. You have a 10% resistance to all Ætheric abilities.

“It basically says I don’t have an affinity.” James couldn’t keep the disappointment from his voice. He didn’t even really understand what an affinity was, but being a Null couldn’t be great if everyone else had one.

“No, it doesn’t say you don’t have one. It’s worse than that. It says you essentially have the opposite of all affinities. You will have to work twice as hard for half the result on anything Aether-related.”

Well shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. There goes my Dr. Strange action, at least for now. There is no way I’m completely giving up on this, though. It’s magic. ‘Nuff said. Might as well check the next one out. At least it sounds cool.

“Inspect Soul Syphon”

Ability Soul Syphon passive Your soul craves a connection to the unknown. Ætheric energy recharges your pool 20% faster than the standard. You absorb 10% of the energy of all Ætheric abilities used against you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Is this random, rigged, or am I just that unlucky.”

“You are just that unlucky. That’s about the worst combo I’ve ever heard of someone getting on day one. People have had terrible builds due to poor choices before, but I’ve never seen anyone start with less synergy than this.” Prometheus sighed again.

“So you know what Soul Syphon is? I didn’t even tell you.” James was very carefully not hysterical. His voice stayed steady through sheer effort of will.

"Yes. It’s normally a good one. It’s honestly one of the best æther passive abilities you can get early on. The only reason it sucks is your affinity. You’d be better off with a completely generic Strong Back because at least you could get some use out of it.”

He closed his eyes momentarily and then sat up and started walking towards the door. “None of this is good news, but it doesn’t change anything else about your situation. You still have one day to be trained enough that you don’t die getting to level one. Let’s get to it. Follow me, and don’t touch any of the doors.”

He left the room quickly, but for a change, he kept the door open. James scrambled out of his chair and moved to follow close behind him. It was a completely unremarkable stone hallway about four feet wide and looked about eight feet tall because the big guy in front didn’t have to duck. The only thing of note was the tiny little glowing pyramids that served as lights every ten feet or so. They could have been LED lights, but his money was on magic.

On the third magic ceiling light, they hit a T-shaped intersection. Straight ahead was a very solid-looking grey door. Prometheus ignored this completely and turned to the right, and kept going. James briefly looked to the left before following. About twenty feet down that way was a pretty cool-looking aqua door. It looked to be wooden with polished copper hinges, binding, and handles. A grunt from his guide cut the sightseeing short as he hurried to catch up.

After about twenty feet down this completely unremarkable gray stone hallway, they came to a red door. This one seemed to be bound with rough hammered black iron and had a straightforward handle, similar to what he’d seen a blacksmith make at a renaissance fair one time. Prometheus quickly pushed the door inwards and strode into the room. As James followed, he rubbernecked his view around the space.

It was simple, but there was still a lot going on in there. Most of the floor was covered in heavy mats, a lot like what you would have in gym class, but leather instead. Two of the four walls were lined floor to 10-foot ceilings with glass cases. The walls were about forty feet long, making it a fairly roomy space, but certainly not modern. The wall directly to the left had just about any weapon he could easily bring to mind, all made out of a grayish wood from the look of it.

There were probably some weapons left out, but it couldn’t be many. There was even the wavy-edged giant flamberge sword, improbably made out of wood like everything else. The wall directly in front of him had some leather armor and a whole lot of shields. The same variety of weapons translated to shields. There was everything from a little arm buckler to a giant phalanx. Prometheus walked over to the weapon wall, right on the edge, and put his hand through the glass.

Right. Of course, it’s going to be magic glass. Man, I don’t even know if that stuff is going to be commonplace or if that’s special. Focus James. It’s time to get your game-face on. It looks like I’m getting some full-on Matrix weapon training today.

Of course, these thoughts all get ground to a halt when James sees him pull out a basic-looking club. It was a couple of feet long and wider at the end than at the grip. So it was the very definition of a no-frills club.

"Really? Am I going to be mostly fighting baby seals in the future? How about we just skip random hunks of wood and go to swords?” James knew he most likely sounded a bit petulant, but it had already been a day of disappointments, and he was running low on fucks to give.

“The club is perfect for you to start. I can look at your hands and tell you’ve never trained with a weapon. You need something simple that you can get the basics figured out by tomorrow. Make no mistake. A club can kill you the same as a sword. The difference is you won’t gut yourself while you learn it.

“What about a dagger if swords are out?” Denial hadn’t worked, so James had jumped straight to bargaining.

“Without training, a dagger is just a sword with less reach.”

“How about a spear?” Time to double down. Spears were totally underappreciated and badass. He wasn’t even going to try for anything fancy, but James' heroic vision of himself saving the damsel with magical explosions behind him did not have him holding a big blackjack in his hand.

“I wouldn’t trust you not to brain yourself with a quarterstaff right now. I’m not thinking about how bad you will get hurt if we put a pointy part on the end. Right now, it’s the club or nothing. I doubt you want to fight creatures with your bare hands tomorrow, but to each their own, I suppose.”

James sighed heavily. “Ok. You’ve made your point, clubs it is.” He walked over and took the club out of his hand. It was surprisingly heavy, probably weighing in at almost ten pounds. Aside from the weight, there was absolutely nothing fancy about it, just about two feet long, with a comfortable leather cord-wrapped grip. It was about three times as thick at the top as the grip and a softly polished grey wood of some type. Prometheus gestured towards the center of the room, and James moved roughly to that position.

“We’re just going to do some basic overhand and side strikes for the next hour. I will correct you on your form, and you need to pay attention. This is to lay the foundations of muscle memory that will keep you alive.” Prometheus proceeded to show him some very basic swings. “It’s all about control. Any idiot can swing a stick, even you. You need to swing the club without overextending or losing control. Loss of control in a real fight leads to injury or death without exception.”

James followed the moves, and it wasn’t too bad at first. After about the tenth of each strike, his arm started to twinge. It wasn’t the initial swing that was causing the discomfort. It was controlling the momentum on the backend that used muscles he hadn’t developed in a meaningful way back on Earth. Once he got to twenty swings, the twinge had graduated to a full-blown ache. At 30 swings, he was pretty sure his arm was now made of stone. By the time he got to 40 swings, there was nothing but lead from the shoulder down, and the shoulder wasn’t in the best of shape either.

“Stop!” Prometheus barked out. “Your form has gone to complete shit. Those last ten strikes left you so open you’d be lucky to be crippled by the counter. It’s been a long time since I’ve worked with anyone this weak. I’ve forgotten how little strain someone with a Body of 1 can take. Sit down before your arm falls off.”

As James flopped into something akin to a lotus position with the grace of a drunken manatee on spring break, Prometheus came over and pulled a long tan bandage out of thin air. James felt his mouth hang wide open until that cocky little smirk appeared on the big man's face again.

You would think I would get used to magic by now. There have been magic bathrooms and reach through glass. Of course, they will have some sort of spatial storage. Every story ever has spatial storage. It’s less showy than ‘You Shall Not Pass…’ magic, but man, you can’t beat the utility.

“Don’t move,” That was all that was said before the big guy wrapped the bandage around his arm.

It was pleasantly warm at first. That only lasted a moment until pleasant warmth became more like fire ants nesting on his skin and angry about the whole situation. He brought his other arm over to pull the devil wrap off his skin but was restrained before he even realized that it had happened.

“I said don’t move. I’ll take it off when it’s time.” Prometheus’s tone was still just as bored as ever, but his hand never wavered a millimeter. “The wrap has been infused with the weakest dilution of healing salve that would still be effective. You are just too weak for it to be painless. If you can endure it for a bit, we can continue your training.”

Mentally James gave himself a shake. So far, nothing had happened that didn’t seem necessary, and while he was a bit of a dick, Prometheus didn’t seem the type to get off on his suffering. Not really trusting himself not to whimper a bit at the pain, he clenched his jaw and gave an affirmative nod.

“A club is the simplest weapon in any of the worlds, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to think while you are using it. You are going to have to pick your strikes. You will be slower and weaker than any of your opponents in the near future. You need to keep it simple but effective. Watch your opponent first if you can. Look for an opening. Don’t get fancy. When in doubt, aim for center mass. It may not do as much damage, but a busted rib will still slow them down, and bruises can limit their movement. A shot at their head is great, but a head can be moved out of the way easier than their core. Don’t even think about a limb strike unless they are down or completely overextended. You will miss and leave yourself wide open. I’m guessing this still doesn’t feel real, but if you aren’t careful, you will die just like that.”

With an echoing snap of his fingers, he ended his monologue and started to unwrap the bandages. Once they were off, the feeling lingered but thankfully started to fade.

“Now, for the rest of the day, we’ll work on blocking and footwork,” Prometheus continued. He went up to the second wall and pulled a small circular shield out of the case. It looked to be wrapped in leather and was about two feet wide. Walking over, he grabbed James’ left arm and put the shield on it, pointing out how to do it himself. “Well, get up. Time is wasting, and this is the important part.”

****

Prometheus finally called a break after hours of sidestepping and backstepping while learning to put the shield in front of an oncoming blow. James didn’t even protest when the bandage of fiery doom made an appearance for his left arm. He didn’t know if he was getting used to it or if his left arm just hurt that much more. Probably the latter because boy did it hurt.

It turns out that blocking is a lot harder than James had thought it ever could be. You could just do a flat block, as he tried the first couple of times. While it is better than catching the blow on your chest or face, the force of the blow is pretty much directly translated to the limb. He was pretty sure at least one of the bones had a hairline fracture by the end. The idea was to deflect the force off to the side or use the shield to interrupt the attack before it built momentum. He wasn’t great at either one of those, but by the end there, he managed it every four blows or so.

James did a little better with dodging. His feet seemed to be the least stupid part of him, at least according to his instructor. He must have been on his feet a lot because it felt pretty natural to slide side to side without turning. Which was an excellent thing as every hit from the stick that Prometheus carried felt like a hammer swung at full force. The pain was an excellent motivator, and his trainer was giving him the full Tony Robbins treatment.

“Why did we spend so much more time on this rather than using the club?” James was particularly proud that his voice didn’t waver despite the healing treatment he was receiving.

“Because if you have to choose between hitting something or not being hit yourself, only an idiot would choose the former. You never know what’s coming after your current fight. Always play it safe and minimize injury. It’s time for dinner. Head back to your room and shower. I’ll bring it to you in half an hour.” With that, Prometheus took off the bandage and gestured to the door.

James obediently got up and moved out into the hallway. He was so tired he didn’t so much as glance at the other doors before going to his room. Stripping down in the bathroom, he turned on the water and got in. It never got above lukewarm, but it still felt good to get the sweat off of himself. There were red welts up and down his arms. The healing was effective, but it seemed to come at a cost. Without any soap, it was just a basic rinse and back out. He looked at his clothes, and his nose wrinkled a bit at the thought of putting them back on. As if on cue, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

“There are some fresh clothes out here. Put them on, and then come eat while it’s still hot.”

That was actually somewhat considerate. Thanks, big guy.

James did as he was told and went out to another not-at-all boring bowl of thin fish soup. Prometheus didn't say anything, he just watched. Normally that would be a bit off-putting, but James was just too tired and hungry to care. As he finished the last bite, Prometheus finally spoke up.

“You need to get your rest. Tomorrow you need to get your level, and you’ll need your energy for it.”

"You’ve said that before. What exactly do I need to do to get a level?”

Prometheus’s voice gets a little harder, “There’s only one way that will work in the time we have available. You are going to fight, and you will need to kill.” Those words hung in the air like the leaden peals of church bells at a funeral. He got up and went to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

I am so screwed.

With that cheerful thought, James went and laid down in bed. Fortunately, he was tired enough that he was asleep in a few minutes despite that cheerful thought.