The first day nearly killed me.
Alexis claimed she was just "helping me recover."
She lied.
This wasn't recovery.
This was war.
Gravity Reinforcement Therapy (The "Welcome Back to Earth" Special)
I stood in the center of the training room, my entire body weighted down by what had to be a torture device in disguise.
It was an exosuit—provided by the hospital itself—lined with adjustable weights that mimicked increased gravity. Every movement felt ten times heavier.
Every step was a battle. Every breath, a struggle.
She had me walking, balancing, dodging, even catching objects she randomly threw at me.
The worst part?
The moment I fell, the moment my body gave out—she reset the timer.
"If you fall, you start over. No complaints, Reynard."
I gritted my teeth as she tossed a weighted ball at me. I caught it—barely—before my legs buckled. My body had spent nearly a year adapting to lower gravity. This was the equivalent of dragging myself through hell.
