Allen stepped out of the restroom, his body still slightly damp from the bath. His mind was still processing everything, but he had reached one clear decision—escape was impossible. He would have to play along for now, at least until he could fully understand the situation he was in.
As he walked forward, his steps steady yet cautious, his body instinctively tensed. A shiver ran down his spine as his gaze met an all-too-familiar figure standing in the center of the gym. The same gaunt, menacing man from before, the one who had whipped him, stood there, arms crossed, a smirk pulling at his chiseled face. The sight of him sent a wave of unease through Allen, but he quickly crushed it. He had learned from experience that showing fear or disdain only worsened situations like this. Instead, he kept his face neutral, his expression unreadable.
"Ah, so you've finally cleaned yourself up," the man spoke, his voice sharp like a blade cutting through the air. "Good. I was hoping you wouldn't be one of the useless ones."
Allen remained silent, his crimson eyes locked onto the man, waiting.
"The name's General Xacsti," the man continued, his smirk widening. "I will be your trainer for the foreseeable future. That is… unless you either prove yourself ready ahead of schedule or… you fail."
Allen's stomach twisted slightly at that last word. There was no need to ask what 'failing' meant. He already knew. This wasn't some military boot camp where a failure meant being sent home. This was something far worse.
General Xacsti gestured for him to follow, and Allen complied. The two moved towards the corner of the gym, where a sleek, metallic platform awaited. The general motioned for Allen to step onto it, and as he did, a soft hum resonated through the air. A scanning light passed over his body, gathering data. A moment later, a paper materialized from a small slot on the side of the machine.
Xacsti grabbed it, his sharp eyes scanning the contents before thrusting it toward Allen. "This is your current workout routine. We'll adjust it as needed, but for now, this will do."
Allen took the paper and quickly skimmed over it. It detailed a series of exercises—push-ups, squats, core workouts, endurance drills, and lastly, a three-mile run. He exhaled through his nose, bracing himself for what was to come.
"We start now," Xacsti announced. "Stretch first. You may not have much muscle on you yet, but I don't tolerate laziness."
Allen wordlessly complied, mirroring the general's movements as they stretched. His muscles still ached from earlier, but he pushed through, knowing full well that any sign of hesitation could lead to something worse.
After stretching, they began the actual training. The first exercise was simple—push-ups. At least, that's what Allen thought, until Xacsti placed a weight on his back. The sheer force nearly made him collapse on the spot.
"Don't stop," Xacsti ordered coldly. "Do as many as you can."
Allen gritted his teeth and pushed against the floor, his arms screaming in protest. He barely managed to complete twenty before his muscles trembled uncontrollably.
"Pathetic," Xacsti sneered. "We'll fix that. Move on."
The next exercise was squats, followed by core workouts. Allen's body burned, sweat rolling down his skin like a waterfall, but he refused to stop. Every time he thought he had reached his limit, he forced himself to go just a little further.
Finally, they reached the last part after multiple workouts—the three-mile run.
Allen's legs were already shaking by the time he started. The first lap was bearable. The second was agony. By the third, his lungs felt like they were being ripped apart. He kept going, even as his pace slowed to a near crawl.
By the time he crossed the finish line, he collapsed onto the floor, his breaths ragged. His entire body felt like it was on fire. But just as he was about to let himself rest, Xacsti's boots stopped beside him.
"Too slow," the general said, his voice void of sympathy. "If you don't improve from today, you'll be considered a failure."
Allen's body screamed in protest, but his mind was sharp. He forced himself up, standing on wobbly legs. He wouldn't give this man the satisfaction of seeing him broken.
Xacsti eyed him for a moment before giving a small nod. "Good. Now go wash up. You're heading to the cafeteria next."
Allen blinked. "Cafeteria?"
"You need food if you want to last," Xacsti replied, already turning away. "Don't keep me waiting."
As Allen processed that, he couldn't help but feel a small spark of surprise. An actual meal? He hadn't expected that. But as he staggered toward the showers, one thought burned in his mind.
Survive. No matter what, he would survive.