Romans & histoires Trainers In Oblivion

Gray looks right at me, and I force myself to mouth the words. “Good,” Gray snaps, folding his arms across his broad chest again. “Now your friend Fallon here has shown me that you all may need a little lesson in discipline.” Shit. I knew I wasn’t going to get off that easy. I hold my breath. “So I think we should all start with twenty laps around the track.” I hear a chorus of groans and feel the sting of eyes on me. My face flushes hot. Great. Five minutes in, and all of the other trainees already hate me.

Evelyn replied, her voice neutral. “If you ever want to learn to ride, I give private lessons.” He winked. “I guarantee it would be an… unforgettable experience.” I took a step forward. “She already has someone to teach her.” I replied, my voice a contained growl. “And you already have enough students. Don’t you, Trainer?” My eyes flashed. Just a spark. Just enough. The trainer stepped back two paces, stammered something about “other commitments” and disappeared. “Were you going to kill him?” Evelyn looked at me, arms crossed.

Lawrence defiantly raises his chin in the air as he asks what the consequences of disobeying the trainer means for us. I mean, they could ask for anything and the answer is already yes. That kind of power over another person is intoxicating. Who knows what they could ask for? Trisha doesn’t smile, in this moment she’s more the company’s representative than our guide. “You quit.” That is not an option. I swallow. “Do we at least get to pick out our trainers?” Trisha gives me a smile, all radiant and friendly again. “No silly. Do you know any of our veterans?”

he demands, a sharp edge of indignation bleeding into his tone. "Instructors who want to ensure their students survive actual combat," I state, the memory playing out with cold, detached clarity in the back of my mind. "It was a lesson in guarding my blind spot. I failed to track the secondary weapon. The instructor made sure I never made the same mistake twice." Oliver stares at me, his hand completely still against my scar. The indignation in his eyes shifts into something darker, a quiet, horrified understanding. "You said you grew up in a training camp," he murmurs, piecing the fragments together. "How old were you when they brought you there?"

Different clans trained in designated fields: Nocthrim shadow-stalkers vanished and reappeared in bursts of darkness, practicing silent kills; Vyrkath warriors dove into a gigantic, glowing pool that seemed bottomless, cutting through the water with unnatural speed, tails and gills manifesting mid-dive; Kragvorn titans scaled vertical obstacle walls, adhesive pads on their palms and feet letting them cling to sheer crystal like insects, leaping impossible distances between platforms. In the central ring, holographic beasts roared and lunged, simulated predators drawn from Zephyria’s wilder regions. Some trainees fought in pairs, weapons materializing from Aether fields: spears of light, blad

I watched buildings shrink behind us, the world I’d known growing smaller and smaller until it was only the car’s hum and the leather seat under me. Cassian’s hand rested against the console the whole drive, fingers drumming. He didn’t look at me until we turned onto the private road. The training ground was a slab of concrete and metal cages beyond the compound, an ugly geometry of targets and shells. The instructor, an ex-military man named Leon, met us at the gate with a nod like he recognized Cassian’s posture. He didn’t fawn. He didn’t ask questions. He just led me to the line.

“You are sure you’re up for it?” “Absolutely.” I need to act normally. Like I didn’t just get emotionally blackmailed before breakfast. She threw herself into training like it was a lifeline. Every jab, every dodge, every spin-kick felt like a scream she wasn’t allowed to voice. Her body moved with precision; her mind, however, was a war zone. Thomas. Mira. Beta Leon. Alina. Rejection. Duty. Escape. Repeat. “Talia!” her trainer barked. “Focus!”

Instead, she concentrated on every muscle, every fiber of her being, and drew her blade as perfectly as she could. “Wrong!” The others who were watching were struck with awe and horror as they saw the brutal spectacle unravel before them. They winced every time Eva was struck by Talyss’ training cane. And once they realized it was going to happen for hours, many simply left. Whispers went around the Drogar guards, about how Reaper Talyss was the Justicars’ most fearsome trainer, whose methods had killed more students than anyone else before. Or since. “Again!”

Dellan stood in front of us all and began to address us. “Today marks your first day of training. You will learn how to become the best fighters this country could ever have and probably be groomed to become killer machines. Rule number 1. In order to be the best fighters, you have to kill all your emotions starting from today. However, today’s lesson will be disarming your opponent. Since we only have one lady in this class, I would like to see what she can do. Tracy, please come up here.” I got out of my chair and went to stand in front of Dellan. He reached inside his waistband and pulled out a revolver, pointing it at my head. I immediately started to sweat and my heart nearly leaped out

I told them and they both nodded. The three of us laid down and raised our knees as though we wanted to stand and began doing sit-ups. I was enjoying myself and their company. I was really happy that I had made new friends who weren't servants of the household. When Dante came over to us to inform me about my instructors being around now. I asked him in the presence of Hannah and Esther. “Who is or are my trainers?” “Gutch and Elsa” He replied and I heard both ladies take deep breaths before letting it out.