Heart of Glass [manxman]

Chapter Seven

"Simulator set."

I stretched my arms up and back, loosening my shoulders one last time before I stepped into the training simulator in the corner of the faculty gym. It was about half past midnight, so it was empty. On weekends, my colleagues were out or sleeping, while during the week they were catching up on work or, yet again, sleeping. It was the perfect time to train where no one would see me, which was why I'd picked the time and used it for several years.

Of course, the occasional straggler popped in. They were usually leaving when I came in or vice versa. The lack of lines for the simulator—and hogging it, for that matter—were the main reasons I chose the least busy time, but times like these, where styles were being monitored more closely, it was nice to know that no one was watching and analyzing how I moved, how I fought. Even so, it wouldn't prove anything, but it would certainly be a piece of evidence that wasn't in my favor.

Stepping into the simulator, the door slid shut behind me, sealing me into a thin, plastic box with cameras and holographic producers all along the walls. Speakers were mounted to the ceiling to avoid damage and provide updates to the person training.

"Simulation initializing... Beginning in 3, 2, 1." A loud buzzer went off and holograms of demons began appearing left and right, all of them coming for me.

I spun, delivering a roundhouse kick to the on my left. The second my feet were back against the floor, I rose, jabbing a punch at the other's solar plexus. As I fought the demons, they vanished.

It wasn't nearly as effective as training with a partner. The produced demons vanished once they were touched, which didn't happen in reality. They also couldn't fight back effectively as they couldn't touch me, couldn't push me back. They also couldn't gauge the severity of the damage I delivered. If I chose, I could waltz through the simulator and poke all of the holograms, making them vanish and me look as though I'd defeated all of them, when in reality, that would never be the case.

"Simulation over."

The door slid back open, giving me the option to leave or reset it, return, and try again. Typically, I'd stretch before I came, lift weights once I arrived, run the simulator two or three times, run some laps, then hit the bags. That night, the simulator wasn't quite hitting the spot I wanted, though. Maybe spending extra time at the bags would do it. At least they interacted a little more.

I turned, heading for the door when I stopped short, shoulders going taut at the sight of Louis, who stood across from me at the weights. While he probably couldn't tell because of the tint on the simulator, I noticed him staring straight at me as he lifted. Even I had to admit, I'd had a shitty run in the simulator. Instead of treating it like an actual fight, I'd more or less dealt out a handful of decent moves and just tapped the others to make them vanish. It was obvious I was slacking, so there was no way he thought my fighting style was familiar. He couldn't see my soulmark either. I'd worn a pair of boardshorts and a hoodie, concealing my entire left arm and left side of my chest.

Chances were, he was watching me to see if anything looked odd or if I was decent considering I was the first one to jump into the attack launched on the Friday meeting.

Sighing, knowing I'd have to go out and face it sooner or later, I left the dark shell of the simulator and shut it down, debating on whether to finish my regimen or go back to my apartment to escape Louis's prying eyes. Out of all my years at the academy, attending that gym, I'd never run into Louis there.

If I did laps, I could take the outer track that went around the outside of the room instead of the one that lined the inside of it. The outer one was larger anyway, so it wouldn't hurt. I'd have to get the key from the attendant, though. It still beat having to handle Louis staring at me the entire time.