An announcement sounded through the speakers. "Breakfast is over. Move to your classes! Breakfast is over. Move to your classes!"
Eliana quickly shoveled down the rest of her breakfast as Keith got up to put away his tablet. He paused, glancing over his shoulder.
"What's your next class?"
She chewed hastily, nearly choking as she swallowed. Why did she have to be so awkward?
"First fitness, then combat," she croaked out before grabbing her water and chugging it down to clear her throat. Keith smirked.
"Good. I have combat training later too. We can be partners."
In that moment, Eliana had no idea what was coming for her.
They parted ways, and she headed to the gym like the day before. Her mood plummeted when she realized she had fitness training every single day. Damon made her run on the treadmill again, despite her legs still aching from yesterday. She performed even worse this time. When she asked him how long she'd have to keep this up, his only answer was:
"Until you stop being so pathetic."
So by the time she dragged herself to combat class, she was already feeling hopeless. She didn't believe she could stop being pathetic. She didn't believe she could ever get better. She just prayed combat class wouldn't be worse than fitness.
The class was led by Cobra. She hadn't had much interaction with him yet—except for when he hit her on the first day. He was quiet and composed, with unnerving blue eyes and messy black hair. He only spoke when necessary. Like Damon, he was brutal, but he didn't go out of his way to make people suffer. Not out of mercy—he just couldn't be bothered. He saw everyone beneath him and not worth his time. Now, he stood before the ten recruits, including her and Keith, and gave them all the same unimpressed look.
At least none of the recruits from the bathroom incident were in this class. They would have loved to pummel her.
Eliana expected some kind of introduction to basic combat techniques. She was so wrong.
"Pair up and start. Show me your skills," Cobra said in a bored yet authoritative tone.
Keith grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward a mat, positioning himself in front of her.
"So… what exactly are we going to do now?" she asked, confused.
Keith dropped into a fighting stance, knees slightly bent, fists raised.
"We're gonna fight and show Cobra what we've got."
Before she could react, Keith swung his fist at her. She barely dodged—and fell flat on her ass.
"What the fuck?! I can't fight! Why aren't we learning the basics first?!"
"Because everyone here already knows how to fight. It's a requirement to get in." Keith crossed his arms. "Now get up and fight."
She stared at him, wide-eyed. She couldn't fight. She had never fought in her entire life. This was just more proof that she didn't belong here. Reluctantly, she pushed herself back onto her feet.
"I can't fight, and I'm not just going to let you beat me up."
Keith sighed. "You still don't get it, do you? In this place, you don't have choices. You get an order, you obey. So either fight, or get beaten up. I don't care."
He advanced on her. She took a step back. Then another. Running crossed her mind, but how far could she get before he caught her? Maybe she could just dodge him the whole time? She was smaller and, at least in her mind, fast. If she could avoid his attacks long enough, maybe she wouldn't get hurt too badly.
That hope lasted about two seconds.
Keith swung again, and this time, she wasn't fast enough. Her untrained eyes couldn't follow his movements. His fist slammed into her face, sending her flying off the mat. Her ears rang. Her skull throbbed. She blacked out for a moment before snapping back to reality, dazed and gasping.
She had thought Keith might be a friend. She was wrong. He hadn't held back at all.
Then she saw why.
Cobra gave him an approving nod. Right. This was what the mentors wanted. Strength. Ruthlessness.
Keith had approached her today not to help, but because she was the easiest opponent. She was just a stepping stone for him to show off. What an asshole. She really couldn't trust anyone here.
Keith stepped toward her sprawled figure. She tried to push herself up, but her head spun, and she tasted blood.
"I need to do this, but I promise I'll give you my notes for the other classes after," he murmured. "Just… try to breathe through the pain."
"Wow. So generous. And what great advice," she spat sarcastically—just as his foot slammed into her stomach.
The fight turned into a beating. By the end of it, she lay bloodied on the mat, her blood soaking into the fabric.
Everything hurt. Her ribs, her arms, her legs. She was pretty sure multiple bones were broken. Were these injuries irreversible? Was this already the end? Before she even had a chance to figure out who sent her here? Before she could even attempt to escape?
As her consciousness faded, she saw a chart on the wall listing all fifty new recruits. Of course, she was in last place.
Then everything went black.
Great. She was pretty sure she had just died.