Jin took in a deep breath. The air was strangely refreshing in the bedroom, opposite of what one would expect to feel in such a setting. Still, Jin could sense an archaic air about him. He was standing in history, while he and his siblings were history in the making. Jin exhaled, nodding to the neat arrangement of the room he declared his own. It was roomy and rather comfortable. For some reason, Jin had imagined a setting more similar to military barracks than what he was presented with. It wasn't a room for battle vets and heroes-to-be, no, it was a scientist's private quarters. Clean, air conditioned, and insanely well-organized. The room was made long before Jin was born, and because of this realization, Jin stood there in the empty space of what he began to call "his dorm", pondering how such advanced technology could have existed well ahead of its time. The door was electronic, it slid in and out of it's rectangular frame, and the room itself was a large, metal prism, polished to provide comfort to bare feet without the need for a rug or carpet. There was a large TV built into the wall across the bed, right above a fireplace. On the ground between the bed and the fire place was a oval-shaped outline: a coffee table that would raise if the control near the room's light switch was activated. To the right of the bed was a simple bed-side drawer, adjacent to the door leading to a beautiful bathroom. Jin smiled and sighed in relief. Under the stress of his situation was a back-up comfort zone he could always return to. If he stayed alive, of course. Jin turned around and left his room; he had managed to unpack and settle in, and decided it would only serve him some good if he got into shape before he hit any actual action.

---

[i]-tsu-[/i]
[i]-tsu-[/i]

The punching bag shot forward, letting the metal chain click against the stopping point before it swung to a stop. Jin stepped back and rolled his neck; his traps were beginning to tire already, and his heart was having a hard time pushing itself. It had been a good hour of non-stop work out in the gym that Jin had managed to find on his own. For the moment, Jin was in the gym alone, and he liked it. Twenty treadmills, sixty assorted machines, and enough weights and benches for a hundred fraternities. Jin enjoyed it - it sure beat running on trees and doing pull-ups on vines. 

He never realized just how strong he had became, even without the use of his abilities. He was able to squeeze out three solid sets on the bench, at weights 190 lb, 220 lb, and 260 lb respectively. He had to get off the treadmill because there never came a point at which he felt he was "working out." It was truly as if he could run forever, though he was never one to waste time. Instead, he began hitting the weights and dummies. Punching bags, standing dummies, moving decoys. Jin even found a place where he could train his blade hand, having realized his swings and thrusts had slowed in his relaxed years on Jamaica. Over and over, Jin asked himself, [i]'Why on Earth would a scientist need all this?'[/i] But every time, Jin would find some way to answer it. Finally, as Jin wiped sweat from his brow, staring at the defeated punching bag, he found an answer that he could rest on.

It wasn't for the scientists, it was for him. 
"For us... you smart bastards..." he said, "It's like you expected things to play out this way from the start..."