Year 2050

  Month 3

  The Arena

  Three large dogs lay motionless on the floor, their powerful bodies now still. Blood pooled beneath them, painted on the once blank canvas of the room. Dante Mercier stood over them, chest heaving with exertion, skin slick with sweat and blood.

  Minor wounds across his body, bite marks, scratches, and bruises.

  Nearly one month had passed since he had returned to the Arena, his muscles were more refined now, veins popping out visibly from his arms.

  His once soft features had hardened, and his ocean blue eyes had taken on a colder quality, Once more they had dived deep into waters where light struggled to penetrate and anyone who stared would be dragged down into the depths as well.

  Dante glanced at his shirt, now torn and bloodied, wrapped tightly around one dog’s neck. The other two were gruesomely dispatched one with a head caved in and the other with its mouth broken.

  “Assessment complete,” a voice announced. "Subject: Dante Mercier. Status: Survival achieved. Efficiency rating: 93%. Time to completion: 1 minute, 38 seconds.”

  Dante didn’t react to the praise. It meant nothing to him. He looked at his bloodied hands.

  It’s back.

  That feeling.

  Cold, calculated.

  …

  Inhuman.

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  He collected his bloodied ripped shirt from the dog’s neck and slung it over his shoulder. Despite the bite marks on his arms and torso, he moved with precision each step measured.

  Dante left the room and headed toward the cafeteria. Approaching the wall that had once been an annoying obstacle, Dante launched himself upward, catching the minimal handholds with practiced ease. What had once been an annoyance was now little more than routine. Every two days the obstacles had changed, yet at this point it meant nothing to him, his mind was sharper and calculated his path quicker now.

  At the top, he swung his legs over the ledge and continued down the corridor, navigating the series of platforms that shifted and tilted beneath his weight.

  He ran across the wall a few steps before gracefully jumping beyond the corridor.

  He landed gracefully in the next corridor. The cafeteria doors opened as he approached, revealing the same stark space filled with silent occupants in identical white clothing.

  Hmm some new faces.

  Dante thought after a first glance before he ignored it.

  Dante scanned the room briefly before approaching the wall scanner. His meal tray appeared with the same bland, nutritionally optimized food as always. As he collected it, he noticed a change to his schedule displayed on the wall:

  MERCIER, DANTE

  SCHEDULE: DAY 27

  0500: WAKE

  0515: PHYSICAL CONDITIONING

  0645: NUTRITIONAL INTAKE

  0730: PHILOSOPHICAL

  1230: NUTRITIONAL INTAKE

  1315: METAPHYSICAL PRINCIPLES

  1800: NUTRITIONAL INTAKE

  1845: INTERNAL REGULATION TRAINING

  2000: REFLECTION PERIOD

  2200: SLEEP CYCLE BEGINS

  *Philosophical? Metaphysical Principles? Internal Regulation?*

  Dante frowned at the new additions to his schedule. The Arena had always been primarily about physical training and tactical assessments. These elements were there before but they were showing up more frequently.

  I can’t imagine father as caring about these things so why?

  Dante took his tray to an empty table.

  Whatever the reason it doesn’t matter anymore, I’m already here and might as well finish everything they throw at me.

  I’ll just finish this quickly and spend my time reviewing my previous fight. Then I'll head back they will have the room ready as always.