[center][h2]Beep. Beep. Beep.[/h2][/center]

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[center][h3][color=#f39d14]5 AM: Gym[/color][/h3][/center]

	Cricket stared up at the ceiling in the dark for a long moment. The alarm had been set to get him up more than it had been set to wake him. Deep breath… Cricket leapt to his feet and snatched his gym bag from the ground beside him. He had prepared it the night before so he would not have to think too hard in the morning. With a yawn, Cricket tossed the bag over his bare shoulder and stepped into the only other room of his apartment.

	In the dim twilight, most of the details in the room faded away. It was a kitchen and living room combined. Cricket clicked on a small lamp as he moved by the kitchen counter. He plunked the bag down by the front door, then went back to dig in his fridge.

	Pre-Workout. Check. Post-Workout. Check. Morning Protein Shake. Check.

	Cricket briefly pondered the fact that he should buy more actual food. There was very little in the fridge that was not related to his workout. He pulled out his drinks and tossed the Pre and Post workout into a lunchbox to keep them cool. The protein shake was enough to keep Cricket awake as he dragged himself back to his bedroom to get dressed.

	A sweater to counter the morning chill. Comfortable pants that would be easy to move in. Today was leg day, after all.

	Cricket tossed his protein shake into the sink. It clattered around with several other shakers. He told himself that he would be back before he went to the station later, so he had plenty of time to clean the shakers then. Cricket pretended to believe himself as he moved to the staircase of his building. Always good to start the morning off with movement!

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[center][h3][color=#f39d14]6:30 AM: Run through the Park[/color][/h3][/center]

	Cricket struggled for breath. He had long since tied his sweater around his waist, but sweat stained the front and back of the gray long sleeve he wore underneath. Cricket dreamed of a day when running became easier for him. He had been making this run for over a year now and had only just recently managed to make it all the way around the park without stopping.

	Can’t stop yet, though. Workout ends at 7. Move, you weak ass bitch.

	Cricket shook his head and patted his cheeks. Who cares about weak lungs!? There’s only one way to improve endurance and it is not to give up! Thirty more minutes. Cricket pushed himself to keep going, despite his inability to breathe. If he did not have to move, the breathing would be a problem. But that would defeat the point of the workout.

	When he finished, Cricket collapsed behind a large pile of rocks. He laid in the dirt and closed his eyes. Little buggy bodies crawled up onto him, drinking his sweat and soothing his exhaustion. They were cute, if not a bit itchy. Cricket cracked open an eye so that, when he lifted a beetle into his vision, he could look into its tiny face.

	Lovely.

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[center][h3][color=#f39d14]7:15 AM: Visit the Station[/color][/h3][/center]

	Cricket, carrying the little, black beetle on his shoulder, strode through the city. He was later than he would have liked. Sure, he had no idea if they would have work for him at the station, but it still felt wrong to not get there at 7 on the dot. It was entirely his fault for working out up until 7. He had meant to run to the station after his run around the park but he had gotten too caught up in the cool morning air. 

	He was about halfway to the fire station by 7:15. Cricket wanted to push his burning legs faster but he knew better than to push himself to collapse again. What if he was needed on the spot? Cricket simply could not afford to pass out.

	A crash from down the street caught Cricket’s attention. Followed by a howling scream. Shit… Why did he have to jinx it? Cricket glanced around before he found a suitable alleyway. He slipped behind a dumpster and tossed his gym bag, sweatshirt, and post-workout against the wall. With any luck, nobody would find those. If they did… he hoped it would at least be someone who needed it.

	Cricket gritted his teeth as bugs from the alley swarmed around him. Roaches and flies were not exactly his favorite Infestation companions, but their energy gave him what he needed. A dull, throbbing pain shot through Cricket as his body grew and morphed. Carapace slid down his limbs in armored plates. His shell sprouted out around his shoulders. Chitinous shell weighed down Cricket’s head, though the horn did little to help the overbearing weight of it. Cricket let out a shuddering breath.

[Center][h3][color=#f39d14]7:19 AM: Handle the Asshole who made this morning more difficult[/color][/h3][/center]

	Cricket whipped around the corner and ran as fast as his weighted body could manage. The crowd parted for him, well aware of his role as a hero. He did not mind their caution. It meant he did not accidentally body slam someone to the ground. With a burst of energy fueled by the bugs that crawled in and under his chitin, both metaphorically and literally, Cricket leapt around the corner and into the street where the action was happening.

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