Chapter song: Yes I'm Changing - Tame Impala
Lunch had ended before Kenneth could get any answers to his questions.
Since they were free for the remainder of the day, Lennon wanted to check out the other buildings with his friends. Though he offered for Kenneth to join, he declined, wanting to spend his free time alone.
Kenneth stood in front of the mirror in his room, observing the body he was currently in. He didn't have a lot to work with, but there was definitely some potential. He'd been doing some research ever since they arrived here and heard that Anchors and Strikers undergo the same amount of training during the first year. If he wanted to survive his tactical training, he needed to shape up, and quickly.
The best way to do this was through conditioning. So, he decided he'd head down and check out the gym the academy had to offer. Each building had a training room that was accessible to anyone who had a student card and badge. The dorms were located in the Vesta Building and included a training facility of its own, but Kenneth didn't have plans to go there. No, he wished to train someplace quiet where he knew he wouldn't be disturbed. He recalled from the tour that there was a building, a little secluded from the rest of the campus that had a mini gym that wasn't frequented by many people since the training equipment was limited. That was fine with Kenneth considering he wasn't looking to train like an athlete right now.
His plan was to start slow and work his way up. Right now he would focus on building his stamina and endurance using his own body weight. In other words, calisthenics.
As he made his way out of the Building, he was able to see the beautiful courtyard they'd all been standing in a mere twenty-four hours ago. Surrounded by dense green foliage, it looked large now that it wasn't packed with students. He walked along the stony path and made his way towards a building—the Cylix, if he remembered correctly—that connected to the Echna Building.
As he pulled the door open, he was hit with a cool, refreshing air. He looked up, and saw the ventilation and purification system just above the doors. It looked to be sensor activated.
"…Interesting," he muttered to himself.
His steps were light and unhurried as he made his way down the long corridor. Even in the afternoon it was relatively empty with a few droids doing their rounds and some students heading to their next classes.
As he made a left, he heard a series of footsteps coming his way. He strained his ears. Two people, he thought.
Kenneth didn't have to wait long as he saw two men walking towards him, dressed in dark grey jumpsuits. He slowed down, looking up and making eye contact with one of them.
"Shit."
It was none other than the Captain and Vice-captain of the Third Division.
There was no retracting his steps or turning back now. The two had already made eye contact, and it would be strange of him to back out that he'd been seen, not to mention rude. Whether he liked it or not, this man was "older" than him, had more seniority and held a higher position in this Academy. It was bad manners not to address one's superior.
The moment their eyes met, the corner of Lucien's lips lifted. Alcione, who'd been talking to him about an ongoing mission, followed his gaze. "Huh? What are you looking at?"
"You go ahead," he said in a low voice.
The young man looked between the two men. It was clear his captain was familiar with this new recruit. He frowned. "Why? Introduce me."
Lucien narrowed his eyes at him; the grey hue in his irises resembling icicles.
"…Or not."
The young man gave Kenneth a slight nod, curiosity plastered across his face before sauntering off.
Once they were left alone, Lucien focused his icy gaze on Kenneth.
"The uniform looks pretty good on you, Anchor," he said as his gaze swept across his figure, drinking him in.
Kenneth's lip twitched. "I have a name."
"Sure you do. So do I."
"….What is it that you need from me captain?" His tone had a cutting annoyance to it that made Lucien raise a brow. No one had ever spoken to him in such a dismissive manner before.
"Nothing really. Is it strange for a senior to reach out to their junior?"
Kenneth's nose wrinkled. "If that's the case I apologize then I apologize for my rudeness."
Lucien studied the man before him for a moment. For some reason, he couldn't figure him out, and that seemed to bother him. He couldn't understand why.
"Was there anything else you needed?"
"Not particularly, no. How are you adjusting so far?"
Kenneth had a placid expression on his face as he admitted, "….It's hard to say given that it's only been a day."
"Hm. You strike me as the kind of person who can adapt to new environments quite easily."
"Do I?" He asked the question without having any special interest in the answer. The more Lucien talked to this man, the more curious he became, though he wasn't sure whether it was the good or bad kind.
"Well then, I should take my leave and let you get back to the gym."
Kenneth's brows shot up. "How did you know—"
"It's a secluded area, perfect to train without having to mind the eyes of others." Was all he said before walking off.
"There's something about that guy that pisses me off," he mumbled as he too continued to his destination.
Perhaps it was the cocky or overconfident air about him that rubbed Kenneth the wrong way, like he could see right through him from that brief interaction they had back in the training area. Kenneth didn't like it.
He shook off the cloudiness that was beginning to make its way towards him and focused his sights on the gym. It didn't take him long to find the facility, and although it wasn't fully equipped like the other ones he'd seen, it was enough for now.
He stepped inside, letting the faint scent of metal, rubber and disinfectant fill his lungs. It had been quite some time since he found himself in a gym. Looking around, he noticed how compact but efficient it was. Every inch of the room had a purpose. A long mirror spanned the front wall, its surface polished to mint-condition. It reflected not only the equipment but Kenneth himself, standing tall in his tactical gear. The compression shirt hugged his frame, the dark fabric emphasizing every line of muscle as well as every weakness this body had. He studied his reflection for a beat longer, noting the imbalance in his shoulders, the tightness around his frame. There was a lot he needed to work on but this body wasn't beyond hope just yet.
He dropped his duffel by the nearest bench and scanned the rest of the space. To the left, a rack of kettlebells sat beside the dumbbells, neatly organized from five pounds up to a hundred. In the far corner, a small cable machine stood between two squat racks, and next to it were resistant bands, sandbags, and weighted vests hanging from hooks. The right side of the room was open, padded with black flooring meant for calisthenics and bodyweight work. At the back, a few cardio machines, an old elliptical by this school's standards but quite new in Kenneth's eyes, a stairmaster, and two treadmills, hummed quietly in standby mode.
He made a mental note to purchase sweatpants or athletic shorts to make it easier to move later, not that these cargos were stiff or anything, they were actually quite comfortable, but they weren't ideal for the range of motion he'd be getting into.
He'd already come up with a rough workout plan that focused on building strength gradually.
Move in full range motion.Train deep muscles.Build upper body strength (plyometrics). Move in patterns.Prioritize core strength over defined muscles. Control body weight before touching the machines.
The last one was the most important since this body wasn't up to lifted heavy weights just yet.
He pulled out the black headphones from his pocket, and placed them behind his neck. A soft click later, they synched with his V Watch and soft alternative music began to hum through.
Kenneth started with mobility work, rolling his shoulders, stretching his neck, rotating his hips and flexor muscles. He did a few leg stretches and deep squats. Then came the warm-up: slow push-ups, air squats, lunges, and shoulder rotations. The mirror helped him keep track of his form, catching small flaws before they could become habits. After that, he moved into sets. Push-ups with controlled descent, then plants, mountain climbers, and slow pistol squats to work on his balance. He transitioned to plyometric push-ups and pull-ups using the mounted bar on the wall. His muscles burned, and sweat formed beneath his shirt. Every rep was measured, and controlled. There was no wasted motion.
Two hours passed before he knew it. His arms trembled faintly when he lowered himself one last time. The music in his ears faded to silence. He made his way to the corner of the gym where the conditioning tools were stored—foam rollers, lacrosse balls, and vibrating recovery guns. Grabbing a roller, he lowered himself onto the mat and began working over the tightness in his thighs and shoulders, exhaling deeply as the pressure released knots of tension. When he finally sat up, the fatigue was there, but so was the satisfaction that came with training your body, and pushing it to its limits—in a healthy way of course.
His reflection caught his eye again, hair slicked with sweat, skin flushed, but eyes sharper and more focused than when he'd come in.
Kenneth allowed himself a small smile before reaching for his water and standing to leave.