[h3][b][u][color=fdabc7]Ana Hunt[/color][/u][/b][/h3]

The gym was built for the instructors to teach combat training, one of a few dozen, and while a few computer pads were strung along the walls there wasn't much to look at besides a high ceiling and about 50 yards of concrete floor. The terminals themselves were designed to activate advanced holograms that would ping students if they were hit and keep track of when and where they had slipped up. This could range from flying debris, mock-magical bolts, or laser charged guns - any scenario an instructor might think of to test and push their students. Even though these were military facilities, this type of training were for those that had long passed basic training (once referred to as boot camp) and were learning more advanced fighting techniques and within the last month, the amount of students only seemed to increase. After all, war might just be around the corner.

It had been far past the hours of instruction though, so when Sergeant McCoy saw the bright lights streaming into the hallway from the gym, it peaked his interest. The hallway itself was large enough to probably fit in a vehicle and still leave walking room, but no one else was here, giving the sergeant plenty of space. The man had been one of those 'pretty boy' mutants as some call them, retaining complete human form even after the transformation, though it gave him a clear advantage. He was strong and in fact often out-did the behemoths that would walk down the hall and make everyone move to the side, that and he had the ability to transform his body into a living metal that was far stronger than any manufactured steel. It was enough that his instructor - James Walton - often told him in private that he was one of the few to push his limits. Something McCoy felt immensely proud of.

So when he turned to the corner, he felt a tinge of unbelief as his eyes grew wide. Mr. Walton had been one of the fastest he had ever seen excluding perhaps Private Mitchell, but what he saw was something entirely different. In fact, he had trouble following the silhouette at all as it phased in and out through what must've been 30 holograms. He heard about the first instructor's class before and even got a small brief mention on his first day - that it was reserved for those with more than a few years of training under their belts. Ms. Ana Hunt was apparently someone on a completely different level than himself. McCoy slowly stepped away from the door and decided it was best to leave the woman be, wondering if the guys would even believe his story - probably not.

As the man left, Ana had decided that she had enough of the exercise. This part was almost the most fun though. She had set the holograms at such a high speed that usually shutting down the program in one try would result in one to three pings, but she always made it a personal goal to get no pings. So in the last moments, she had to flash over to a terminal, type in the starting commands and flash away before the holograms caught up. Ana repeated this until she finally saw the projections fade away and smirked to herself, looking at the computerize board that read the number zero. She was sweating a little, but nothing too extreme as she wiped the thin sheet from her forehead.

Her eyes wandered over to the doorway and let out a satisfied sigh, though it was masked with something sadder. This was the part of the day she hated most. Yes, she could go home and relax, play a few games, get caught up in some fantasy fiction ... but it was the comfortable places where she was reminded that she was alone. She had been forcefully distanced from her family, all her friends had long left her, and she had no one to love. Indeed, she hated this part of the day the most.