Morning came by fast; one of the perks of constantly being exhausted was being able to fall asleep very quickly. Rain started his usual morning routine: going for a run instantly after waking up, then a short chat with his fellow friends, and heading for a quick shower, finishing it all up with breakfast at the cafeteria. The training usually started over an hour after breakfast, so the trainees had some time to kill until then. Rain usually filled that time with some weight training. He and the other slum-born needed to build their muscles the most, so there were always many of them at the gym during this time. It felt right; he never pushed himself too hard, but allowed his muscles to wake up and start the combat training already warm and in shape. Differing from his usual routine was now the new path he had to take. He would normally meet up with Lance and Yuol, but now, he waved them goodbye at a crosswalk. For he had somewhere else to be.

  Walking the exact opposite of the incoming masses of trainees, Rain felt quite exposed. Swerving his way through the conglomeration of people, he received all too many side eyes. With some even bumping into him and whispering, “dead weight” to him. Dead weight was one of the nicer ways the ones who had given up were called. Rain had seen some in this camp already, slacking off after just accepting their demise. People like that made Rain’s blood boil. He understood the hardships of the training camp, especially for those from the slums like him. He didn’t especially like being called that, after all, he was probably going to have to work harder than anyone starting today.

  Especially considering that he himself had been quite lucky regarding his Reflection, something only a few could say the same. Nevertheless, giving up on life was unthinkable for him. Why give up after surviving so much?

  Arriving at the main administrative building, he took a deep breath and climbed the concrete stairs below the towering columns.

  ‘Well…Here goes nothing.’

  Rain didn’t know what to expect. His teacher was, after all, called ‘Berserker’. Even though Lieutenant Dawson seemed like a nice, honorable man during their discussion, he was sure that his training would be gruesome.

  Walking through the glass double doors, he was once again met with the beautiful wooden interior of the main building. After taking a second, he walked towards the receptionist, busy with their work.

  “Uhm, I have combat training with Lieutenant Dawson starting today.”

  Looking up from their desk, the wild-haired older man stared at him with a look of disbelief.

  “Of course, young man…May I know your name?”

  The false sense of politeness washed over Rain. While Rain had certainly grown in size and muscle. For someone working for years at such camps, he was quite obviously still a slum-born, and so, by definition, someone often disregarded.

  “Rain. Group B3. Lieutenant Dawson wanted to train me himself.”

  “Rain. Let me have a look.”

  His cheap smile faded as he began to open various calendars and schedules, and after a few short moments, his eyes widened, letting out a slight cough.

  “Well…Here you are. Rain, Group B3. In the basement, room 201. I just need to check your bracelet, young sir.”

  Holding his wrist forward, the older man scanned his device, checking his credentials.

  “Alright. Head straight through, and then to the left you’ll find the elevators. B2 should be where you need to go.”

  “Thank you.”

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  Not paying him too much mind, Rain simply continued on his merry path with confidence.

  ‘Always one of those people…’

  The reputation of slum born was as bad as it could be. It didn’t matter where or on which occasion, outside of the slums, the one suspected or blamed was always Rain.

  Taking the elevator to the basement, an interesting sight welcomed him. Looking left and right, it all seemed quite familiar. Grey concrete walls devoid of any warm feeling, the light flickering of the all too old lights. Rain hadn’t expected something to feel as much like home here in the training camp.

  Thinking through it, it made sense. He was in the basement after all, or something more akin to a bunker might be more accurate. With his steps echoing throughout the nearly empty halls, he scanned the surrounding doors leading to god knows where for room 201. It didn’t take long for him to find it, although it seemed a bit farther apart from any other room.

  Steeling himself, he gave the door a knock, awaiting a response.

  A few seconds passed by, but the door still stood in his way.

  ‘Huh, seems Lieutenant Dawson isn’t here yet. I am a bit early…’

  Looking at his bracelet, he was indeed twenty minutes early. Rain didn’t mind it. He wasn’t quite sure of how Lieutenant Dawson functioned, since some teachers wanted their students to be earlier than the scheduled time. Pushing the handle down, to his surprise, the door wasn’t locked.

  ‘That’s weird…at least I can wait inside though.’

  Stepping inside the dark chamber, he frantically touched the wall next to him for a light switch, but it seemed like the power was out in here.

  An eerie feeling washed over him. The entire situation seemed uncanny.

  ‘An unlocked door and no lights? On top of that…what is this feeling?’

  Focusing on his heightened senses, he couldn’t hear much, just a sixth sense of something lurking in the shadows.

  Waving his hand in the air, he conjured a flame, and just as he did, he felt a shiver crawl through him. By pure instinct, he ducked his head and rolled farther into the room, dodging something by a hair’s breadth.

  The entire situation was bizarre, but Rain was sure of one thing.

  ‘He is testing me, isn’t he?’

  Holding his hands in front of him, splitting the air, a ring of fire formed around him. Shoddy work, compared to when he was training in peace, but it had to be enough. With more light in the room, he hoped to have an idea of where his assailant was going to strike him.

  No sound but the crackling flames filled the room. He had no way of knowing from where he would strike next. Until it dawned on him.

  ‘Mana, I have to track his mana threads.’

  While Rain was one of the better students when it came to the use of mana, trying to track someone like The Berserker would be impossibly more difficult than his fellow trainees.

  Focusing on the mana, a smell of blood lingered in the air, filling his nose and lungs with nausea.

  ‘Damn, I thought his mana wouldn’t be detectable, but it was the opposite! It’s just too damn strong.’

  Flashing in front of him, with unfeasible speed, his teacher’s weapon, a wooden quarterstaff, cut through the air towards him. Tilting his head to the side, a slight cut appeared on his cheek, with blood slightly dripping on the ground.

  ‘Fuck! He could’ve cut my head off.’

  Being on the defensive wasn’t quite working, and so, Rain dared himself to go on the offense. Standing in the middle of his ring, he shot two bolts of fire in the direction of his opponent. While they seemingly missed their mark, they provided Rain with valuable information. An illuminating trail flew across the room, and so, he decided to run after them, releasing the hold on his fiery ring.

  ‘I know he is not in front of me, so chances are he will strike from behind while I run.’

  His strategy was bold; the only reason Rain knew it might work was that his teacher wasn’t actively trying to kill him, or so he hoped.

  As he had predicted, the slight sound of a step rushed up behind him. Turning around mid-run, he released two streaks of fire, forming a wide cross in front of him. With it, he finally saw his teacher’s hardened face striking away his fire with a gust of wind produced by the sheer power behind it.

  ‘Shit.’

  Before he could react, he was already directly behind him, and Rain was unable to react to the staff tripping his legs, causing him to fall flat on his face onto the stone floor. Face down on the floor, the lights suddenly came back to life, and as he turned around, his teacher towered before him, with the quarterstaff held to Rain’s throat. A mischievous smirk ran across his villainous face.

  “Gotcha.”