Sector 7's artificial sun hadn't fully ignited when Johnny snapped his eyes open. The clock on the wall read 5:00 AM.
His childish body wanted to go back to sleep, but Guts' mental discipline forced him up. He hopped out of bed, splashed his face with bone-chilling cold water, and headed straight down to the workshop.
When Garrick came down half an hour later, yawning, he was nearly shocked to death.
The workshop floor had been swept clean. Tools were arranged neatly by size. Even the scrap metal that had been scattered about yesterday had been sorted by Johnny into boxes.
"For the love of the Planet..." Garrick muttered, his cigarette nearly falling from his lips. "What's gotten into you, Johnny?"
"Just want your work to get done faster, Dad," Johnny answered briefly, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Is there anything else I can help with?"
Thanks to Johnny's efficient hard work—applying his tactical military mind to workshop management—tasks that usually took until noon were finished by 8:00 AM.
"That's enough, Son. That's enough!" Garrick shook his head, smiling broadly. "You work as fast as a Shinra Robot. Go on, take a break. I can handle the rest."
Johnny nodded. His free time had begun.
He didn't use his free time to play soccer like the other kids. He ran behind the house, retrieving the "Scrap Greatsword" he had hidden behind a stack of tires.
The sun was beginning to scorch. Johnny stood in the middle of the dusty backyard.
He lifted the twenty-kilogram slab of iron. It was heavy. Gravity dragged it down.
"Lift. Swing. Hold."
One. Johnny swung vertically. The tip of the sword slammed into the ground, kicking up dust.
Two. He heaved it back up. His back muscles screamed.
Three. Sweat began to pour. His breath came in ragged gasps.
He continued training until noon, helped his father again, and then resumed until late afternoon. Neighbors passing by the gaps in the fence peeked in with confusion, watching a small child swinging a piece of scrap iron like a madman. But Johnny didn't care. He was rebuilding the "vessel" to contain his soul.