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[color=cdb6d6][b]#cdb6d6[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=808080][b]ronin[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=808080][b]red adidas track suit[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=cb6b06][b]#cb6b06[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=d13b00][b]#d13b00[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=808080][b]ghost rider[/b][/color] [color=2e2c2c]....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [url=https://imgur.com/VV5jrFQ][color=808080][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url] [color=2e2c2c].....[/color]|[color=2e2c2c].....[/color] [color=808080][b]descendant tower[/b][/color]
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[indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080]After the destruction of the simulation room, Phil and Alfred begrudgingly led everyone down one floor to sub-level 7. They had to sit around for another ten minutes or so as Phil clicked away at the computer, preparing the training exercises over a second time. But after getting everything in order, he called out to the room for the next pair. [color=d6d6d6]"Judith and Jameson."[/color]

James pushed off his knees and got to his feet. His gaze drifted over to the blonde he’d be fighting alongside, an uncomfortable stirring growing in the pit of his stomach. [i]Just need to get it over with quickly,[/i] he reassured himself as he stepped into the simulation room and held the door open for her. As she walked past, his back tensed as he felt the steam billow beneath the collar of his shirt. He shifted how he stood and rolled his shoulders before following after her into the concrete room. 

The spirit shifted, perking up like a dog that caught the scent of prey. [color=cb6b06]"Behave,"[/color] James snipped under his breath. 

[color=d13b00][i]I will if she does,[/i][/color] the spirit replied in his mind, alert and attentive like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, ready to pounce.

James looked over at Jules with an apologetic smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. [color=cb6b06]"Sorry, not you,"[/color] he commented while pointing at his head. He clicked his tongue as he slid his hands into the front pocket of his jeans and made his way over to the large X in the middle of the room.

Jules remained calm and collected as she entered, her eyes scanning the room as she took in the space. Despite wearing layers, she felt starkly naked without any weapons on her. Her hands smoothed out the front of her tracksuit, her eyebrows raising at James’ first comment. She nodded as he explained, her hands held up in a makeshift boxing pose as she readied herself. [color=cdb6d6]"Right… well… in my line of work, demons not liking you is a good thing. Usually it means you're on the right side."[/color] Her own smile didn't exactly reach her eyes as she looked James over nervously. People and robots she could handle. Vengeful spirits and ghosts were out of her wheelhouse.

[color=cb6b06]"It’s a little more complicated than that,"[/color] he admitted with a slight shrug and a raise of his brows. [color=cb6b06]"But if it’s any consolation, the fiery guy only hates sinners. So if you have a free conscience then you’re safe."[/color] James met her gaze, flashing her a tight lipped smile. While he didn’t mean it as a threat, he found himself studying her face for any betrayal of how she truly felt. There was something that festered in her that made the spirit stir, he just didn’t know what.

Jules simply shrugged at the response, cracking her neck as she stood on the X.

[color=d6d6d6]"Thumbs up when you’re both ready,"[/color] Phil’s voice reverberated from some hidden recess somewhere in the room.

James had watched two of the other trainings and how different they were. Going into this he had no idea what to expect aside from a lot of angry fuckers trying to shoot at them. He understood the purpose in training but knowing how powerful and practically invincible the Ghost Rider was, he was struggling to see how it wouldn’t end faster than it started. He could try to hold back for Jules sake so she could get in a couple licks, but in the end the spirit did whatever he wanted. If he was lucky they both had a hand on the steering wheel while they fought for power… But it was messy. He cleared his throat and held up his thumb, ready to get it started and over with quickly… [i]hopefully.[/i]


[color=d6d6d6]"Emergency shut down word is [i]‘watermelon’[/i]. Simulation will begin in 3… 2… 1."[/color]

The lights slowly dimmed as the room was thrust into the darkness of night. A low hanging fog spread across the ground masking the various gravestones scattered haphazardly around a small white chapel like something out of a horror film. James stood on the outside of a dilapidated white picket fence that separated himself from the holy ground. He swallowed as an unfamiliar anxiety rose in his chest and the spirit remained eerily still. His hand hesitantly reached out to rest on the broken gate before pushing it open. [color=cb6b06]"I have a bad feeling about this,"[/color] he whispered more to himself and the spirit, rather than Jules.

[color=cdb6d6]"I know… I hate long sermons,"[/color] Jules teased. [color=cdb6d6]"But hey… do you think they offer confession?"[/color]  She walked past James with her hands raised in fists. Her steps were deliberate and swift, her eyes scanning any windows for shadows or movements. She crossed the path to the outer wall of the chapel as quick as she could, placing her back against the white wood. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop, as it had in the other simulations. Her eyes drifted to the scattered gravestones… god, she hoped it wasn’t zombies.

James forced out a weak laugh but he had a hard time finding amusement in their current predicament when something felt… [i]off.[/i] He took one step forward, placing his boot on the hallowed ground. The walls around the spirit’s cage felt like they strengthened as the demonic presence felt foggy and obscured by shadow. He tried letting the Ghost Rider take control but where it was usually like flipping a switch, he felt like he was trying to move through water. Everything was slow and lethargic like the spirit was a tired toddler being forced to walk. [color=cb6b06]"[i]Come on,[/i]"[/color] he muttered under his breath through gritted teeth. The fire flickered and sparked before finally climbing from his clenched fists and passing over him like a wave, rather than engulfing him instantaneously. 

While subtlety might have been Jules’s tactic, it definitely was [i]not[/i] his. James didn’t aim to creep around the church but trudged up the steps right for the entrance. He reached for the metal bracelet around his left wrist but as he pulled it off the chain didn’t heed his control. It didn’t grow or writhe and not a single flame of hellfire burned along it. He didn’t understand how a concrete box and projectors simulated holy ground, but he fucking hated it. Reluctantly, he shoved the useless bracelet into the pocket of his jeans then kicked open the wooden double doors. 

The clicks and metallic shifts of guns training on him echoed throughout the small chapel as dozens of mercenaries laid in wait with all of their weapons trained on him. The red light of their laser sights disappeared in the roaring flames that covered his skeletal form. He wanted his mystical chain to easily rip through them but that wasn’t going to work. He then attempted to lob a ball of hellfire toward them, but something more akin to an ember fell pathetically from his hand, landed on the ground at his feet and started a small, pitiful fire on the long rug that ran down the aisle. Then a cacophony of shots rang out as darts flew at him. Some threaded the needle, slipping between bones, while most clung to his clothing with no effect, one even lodging itself into the hollow eyesocket of his skull. 

[color=d13b00]"This sucks,"[/color] the spirit complained, the deep ominousness of his voice missing its usual edge. If it was possible for a skeleton to sigh, he did and a small puff of steam slipped out from behind his mandible and through the hole where a nose should be. He leisurely strolled forward while rolling up his sleeves. When the first man ran at him, he balled up his fist and slammed it into the attacker’s face, feeling the bone, [i]or whatever[/i], crush into a pulp from the force.

Jules peeked around the corner of the front entrance, watching the hail of simulated gunfire harmlessly ping off of the spirit of vengeance. She sighed, wishing she too had made some kind of infernal deal so she wouldn’t have to deal with the incoming pain. She darted in quickly, staying low to the ground as she quickly dove into one of the back pews. She could hear the darts impacting against the wooden seats. Her eyes fell to a couple thick books stuffed into holders in the back of the pews.

[color=cdb6d6]"This is a really dumb idea."[/color]

A book flew out towards the right flank of the pews, gathering the attention of a few of the mercenaries to let loose a volley of shots in its direction. Jules used the distraction and James’ presence to make a quick scampering burst up the middle aisle. She winced and recoiled as a projectile threaded the needle between James’ exposed ribs and impacted her shoulder. She pushed through, making it near James’ feet before she shoved herself behind a pew. She reached out, dragging the dead mercenary's corpse behind the wood seat with her. She grabbed for the rifle still strapped to its vest, reloading it and unhooking the fabric as she could hear steps approaching. She waited for a moment before peeking her head and the rifle up over the pew, taking a couple well-aimed shots at a few mercenaries. She only managed to take one down swiftly, alerting more to her presence. She hissed out towards James, [color=cdb6d6]"Is punching all you can do?"[/color]

The flaming skeleton hardly noticed the darts that tore through his clothing or latched onto various bones. The electrical current was useless, just like it had been in the truckstop the day before. He waited patiently in the center of the church for the mercenaries to come at him, snapping bones, punching in faces, or tossing them out the windows whenever they got close enough. It was tedious work. Both James and the spirit grew impatient and aggravated at how slow it all was. The Ghost Rider felt like a drained battery that barely performed while charging. Every movement was lethargic. There was no hellfire or mystical chain. The only reason he wasn’t overpowered was due to his invulnerability, otherwise he was no more useful than First Lieutenant Buttplug, punching and kicking his way through the crowd. 

The eyeless sockets in the skull seemed to turn toward Jules at her words, even though there was no way to know, the gaze was piercing and annoyed. A bony hand reached up, grabbed a man that charged at him by the throat, while two fingers from his other hand hooked into the attacker’s nostrils and ripped his head clean off his body with a snap and splatter of blood. The Ghost Rider let the corpse fall lifelessly to the ground before throwing the decapitated head into another mercenary with enough force to knock him clean off his feet. [color=d13b00]"Is hiding all [i]you[/i] can do?"[/color] the spirit rebutted, flames flickering and popping in frustration.

As if being weakened wasn’t infuriating enough, having his training partner look at him like was incompetent fueled his rage, making the spirit feel more shackled than he ever had trapped inside James’s dreadful mind. Flames licked across his hands as he grabbed the closest pew, opposite the one Jules hid behind. The wood charred beneath his grasp as he ripped the bench, bolts and all, up from the ground. Wielding it like a giant bat, he swung the pew at a group of men and sent half a dozen of them careening through the air, and crashing through the stained glass windows. He then lifted the long wooden bench overhead and proceeded to slam it down on the heads of whichever moron was closest like a fucked up whack-a-mole. The Ghost Rider pummeled another five through the floorboards of the church before the pew splintered and snapped in half.

Jules rolled her eyes in a teasing fashion as the spirit responded. He had a bit more personality than expected, but she hadn't grown up with films like the Exorcist. Hell, most of the tapes her father kept around for entertainment were highly detailed training videos so Jules could practice martial arts in a cramped living room. They served her well, though good old fashion sharpshooting was of more use as Jules kept her back pressed against the wood and tried to cover their flank.

[color=cdb6d6]"I'm not bulletproof,"[/color] she called out, crawling on the ground down the length of the pew to take up a position on the far right flank. She tilted her body swiftly, her head and the rifle shifting into view of a couple approaching soldiers who could not react quick enough. Bullets ripped through with great aim, giving Jules a little breathing room as she pulled herself into a kneeling position. She rested her right knee on the ground and popped her head up to get a full view of the scene, taking shots at any soldiers who were attempting to fight from range. For each shot, another body dropped. Jules would duck her head and shift her position up or down a pew when they caught on, but she remained slow and deliberate with her movements.

The Ghost Rider made a sound somewhere in between a scoff and a growl as the spirit’s patience was growing increasingly thin. [color=d13b00]"Fucking holy ground."[/color] He slowly trudged up the aisle toward the remaining group of mercenaries. He didn’t count, the number was irrelevant. What was important was that their numbers were dwindling too slowly or more kept flooding in, maybe both. One at a time they rushed him, [i]stupid.[/i] He ripped the arms off of one, caved in the chest of another with a kick, and ripped the heart out of the next. Without prejudice or much methodology to his process, the spirit tore through the attackers, dismembering and disemboweling as he went.

Jules reloaded her rifle, dropping the spent magazine on the ground and taking a moment to peek just barely over the pews. There were still plenty of enemies on the field, and it felt intentional from the simulation that for every two they took down, one would seem to enter when they weren’t looking. The most obvious solution, of course, would be to just turn back and leave. They weren’t boxed in or defending a position they needed to, but given how invested the angry spirit was she doubted running was going to be an easy sell. So, Jules relented. She needed to end things quickly.

Her eyes locked onto a small cabinet bolted into the wall. A small smile curled on her lips as she racked the bolt of her rifle. She ducked beneath the pews again, taking in a deep breath. [color=cdb6d6]"I don’t know if you’re having performance issues, but I really need you to burn the midnight oil,"[/color] Jules called out. With another moment's hesitation, she popped her head out to fire a volley of shots at the cabinet near the altar and the large glass bottles inside. Yellow liquid poured from the shredded cabinet and onto the dark carpet underneath.

The flaming skull’s attention snapped in the direction of the gunshot, watching as the oil spilled across the floor. While the corny comment would have warranted an eye roll, if he had any at the moment, the message was clear. With a clearer directive, he moved with speed and purpose. He ripped the closest pew up from the floorboards and threw it like a comically oversized javelin at one of the side doors, wedging into the opening and barricading the exit. The spirit continued tearing the wooden benches from where they were bolted, using them to block or destroy every possible escape until all that was left was the front door. [color=d13b00]"Get out and barricade the door,"[/color] the demonic voice roared out the command without looking towards Jules. 

Jules didn’t need to be told twice. She held the rifle by the handguard and quickly ducked out into the main aisle, using the large skeleton man as a bit of cover from the hail of shots that was bound to come their way. She felt sharp stings in her back and another in her thigh as a few shots hit true, but Jules pushed through the pain until she burst out the front doors. She kicked, them shut behind her, and quickly ejected the rifle’s magazine. In a fluid motion, she shoved the front of the rifle between the large handles of the chapel’s entrance to bar it, and took a few steps back with her hands raised in the air as if expecting more soldiers to rush towards her.

He pushed his way forward through the attackers as bullets continued to rip holes in his clothing and ricochet off his bones. Whenever one of them was dumb enough to attack him, he snapped their leg or threw them further backwards into the church, preventing them from leaving. When the spirit reached the spilled liquid, he sparred a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Jules was in the clear before an almost sadistic laugh rattled around his ribcage. He kneeled down and without a second’s hesitation, he slammed his hands down into the small puddle of oil. Flames rolled across the liquid’s surface and spread across the old tattered carpet like it was kindling. Within a matter of seconds the entire altar was set ablaze. The armed men panicked, dropping their weapons and desperately ran for the exits. The new flames licked the skeleton’s body and ignited a fragment of his power that was dampened by the hallowed ground. If a skull could smile, then the spirit was grinning from ear to ear as he let the fire consume him. Bony fingers wiggled before he started hurling flaming balls in the direction of every mercenary that attempted to leave, simultaneously setting more of the church on fire until the entire building and himself disappeared into a roaring column of hellfire. 

Sprinklers rained water down from the ceiling as the simulation lifted, leaving a flaming skeleton and Jules standing in the middle of the familiar concrete room. When whatever bullshit that had made the room holy was pulled away, the Ghost Rider’s fire burned brighter like someone stoked the flames. A deep, gravely hum echoed from within the skull before the fire was snuffed and all that remained was James… [i]naked.[/i] The cold water running along his bare skin made him immediately aware that his clothing had been destroyed in the fire. His eyes went wide and face flushed as his hands fell to cover his manhood. He cleared his throat and awkwardly turned his back toward the observation window.

While he tried to figure out a plan, Phil pushed on a wall panel, opening a hidden closet. He didn’t appear to be in much of a rush nor was he surprised, making it very apparent that this was not the first time something like that had happened. He entered the simulation room and held out a pair of clean, folded basketball shorts toward James. [color=d6d6d6]"You’d be surprised how common that is,"[/color] Phil reassured him in his usual flat tone. 

[color=cb6b06]"Thanks,"[/color] James mumbled as he took the shorts and quickly pulled them on. He then ran his hands back through his wet hair, brushing it out of his face as he quickly exited the simulation and found his seat without meeting anyone’s gaze.

Once Jules was able to recover from her full-throated laughing fit at the sight of James’ naked mishap, she too shuffled out of the training room while wiping the tears from her eyes.[/color][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]

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[indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080]A few minutes after Jules and James exited their simulation, Phil turned his attention back toward the room. [color=d6d6d6]"Imogen and Luke, please."[/color]

Luke stood up with a slow stretch, moving toward the door and thinking about how familiar this all felt. For a moment, if he closed his eyes and pretended awfully hard, he could almost imagine that they were back in those golden Academy days. [i]He[/i] couldn’t, though. Too much had changed over the years, and who he had been and who he was now were fundamentally different, so instead he tugged open the door and held it for Imogen.

She flashed Luke a grateful smile as she stepped through the door and entered the large simulation room. To no surprise it was exactly like what she remembered, a giant concrete box with a large yellow X on the ground at the center of the floor. [color=a8f9ff]"Deja vu,"[/color] Imogen whispered to herself as the anxiety tightened in her chest. She hated training ten years ago and somehow she hated it even more now. There was more at stake. She couldn’t coast because she was Tony Stark’s daughter or be invisible anymore. Everyone who mattered was watching her and judging what she offered in a fight… [i]nothing.[/i] She didn’t know what was worse, the expectations resting on her shoulders or the fear of Magni looking at her differently when he realized she wasn’t a warrior like the others he had been attracted to in the past. 

Her pace slowed until she stood near the center of the X. She took in a deep breath and tugged the zipper on her jacket up to her neck only for it to slide half of the way back down when she exhaled. [color=a8f9ff]"Ready to be reminded why you dumped me?"[/color] She laughed nervously while putting on a brave smile. Poking fun at her own weaknesses always seemed to soften the blow if she beat others to it. 

Luke snorted, hands in his pockets and posture utterly relaxed as he strolled after Imogen, eyeing the familiar room with a keen sense of remembrance in regards to having trained here so much. [color=995749]"I didn’t dump you because you can’t fight,"[/color] he paused, wincing and back tracking. [color=995749]"Not to say you can’t fight, of course. My dad wanted me to cut ties and move to I.H.A. and I wanted to stay at the Academy… so naturally, I cut ties and started up with I.H.A."[/color] His tone was bitter, and he didn’t once look at Imogen as he confessed this. Their breakup had been amicable, or as amicable as it could have been, and he’d let her know that it [i]wasn’t[/i] her, but rather it was his fault. He’d thought she’d understood that, especially since he all but dropped off the face of the planet for all his friends after he left. 

He’d never told her the full story though, in fact, he’d never told anyone the full story. It just made Luke angry to think about, and fighting with his temper had been trained out of him long ago. He let out a slow, even breath, and pulled his hands from his pockets, posture straightening out and he physically and mentally prepared himself for whatever fight lay in wait for them. [color=995749]"It was never your fault, Imogen."[/color] Lucian added, softer and very likely the most genuine he’d been with anyone thus far. He kept his eyes, pointedly and respectfully on her face rather than her failing attire, wanting the woman to understand that he meant it. Luke glanced away after a moment, an edge of that bitterness seeping back into his tone despite his control. [color=995749]"My dad has made it clear what his expectations are."[/color] 

Imogen sighed softly, her attempt at a brave smile falling slightly. She never got the full story of Luke’s disdain with his father, but she knew some of it, enough to where she should have known better than to make the comment she did, even if it was to relieve some tension. [color=a8f9ff]"I’m sorry. It was a bad joke."[/color] She crossed her arms over her chest, looking around like she was on edge, waiting for the simulation to start abruptly, as they often did. [color=a8f9ff]"I hate this room… I hate training,"[/color] she whispered more to herself than him. She took a second, rapping her fingers along her bicep before turning to face him and hold his gaze. [color=a8f9ff]"We’re [i]very[/i] different people now. It wouldn’t have worked out… You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Luke. Just, you know… Don’t let your father dictate your life. It’s [i]your[/i] life, not his."[/color]

Luke shrugged easily, waving a hand at Imogen. [color=995749]"No harm, I just don’t want you to blame yourself."[/color] There was no other choice for him when it came to his father and his life, every choice was calculated, a lot of the time Luke felt as if he was just a puppet being controlled, any effort to break free was futile. He looked away from her, because it was his burden to bear and his alone. [color=995749]"I gave up on the idea that I could choose my own path a long time ago, Imogen. It’s fine."[/color]

He glanced at the window, giving a thumbs up to the glass. [color=995749]"Let’s get started, boss,"[/color] he called out, grinning with confidence that was all a mask to hide how he really felt about the direction the conversation had taken. 

Her brows furrowed and lips pursed. She let out a slightly exaggerated sigh. [color=a8f9ff]"A decade and you’re [i]still[/i] trying to lie to a telepath."[/color] Imogen shook her head and rolled her eyes. She lazily held her thumb up at shoulder height before Phil got the chance to ask. Ten years later and training was still like riding a bike. Stand on the X. Thumbs up when ready. 

[color=d6d6d6]"Emergency shut down word is [i]‘watermelon’[/i]."[/color] Imogen moved her lips along with Phil, having memorized his whole speech well enough that even years after the academy it randomly popped up in her dreams. But when she went to mouth one, she was thrown off as he went off script for the first time… [i]like ever.[/i] [color=d6d6d6]"I recommend holding your breath."[/color]

Luke was mentally following along with the familiar speech, rolling his neck to release some tension in his muscles, only to pause with his head tipped back to the ceiling, brows furrowing. He glanced at Imogen, and they spoke in a surprised tandem. 

[color=995749]"What?"[/color]

[color=a8f9ff]"[i]What?[/i]"[/color] Imogen looked over at Luke with wide eyes. 

[color=d6d6d6]"Simulation will begin in 3… 2… 1."[/color]

When Phil said one, Imogen panicked and quickly held her breath. Not a moment later the ground beneath them disappeared and she was plunged into frigid water. She was disoriented between the shock of the cold and the lack of visibility once she was submerged. It took a couple seconds before her brain caught up and told her to swim toward the light. She kicked her feet and pushed her hands through the water. When her head broke the surface she gasped and sucked in a deep breath of air. Imogen looked around trying understand what the fuck she was just thrown into. The water she treaded was a black void beneath the bright reflection of the moon. As far as she could tell they were in the middle of the ocean surrounded by some kind… [i]dock system?[/i] Even with the light of the moon, it was impossible to tell. She had no choice but to swim towards one of them, it was better than floating there for who knows how long until something pulled her under or whatever other hell Phil had in store. 

She swam with the swift elegance of someone who was no stranger to spending plenty of time in the water. Imogen quickly fell into a practiced form and closed the distance to the floating platform quickly. If their training was just swimming or surviving out in the middle of the ocean she would have been fine. But there was a reason she hated training and it wasn’t because she didn’t like being active. It was because of how brutal it could be.

Her goal was to get out of the water and get out of it fast. She hooked her arms on the side of the platform and grunted as she started hoisting herself up. She shifted until her palms were pressed against the wet wood and her elbows were locked. Imogen quickly slid her knee up over the edge between her hands and stumbled to her feet. Her chest heaved as she looked around at the strange floating platform. It was huge, made of soaked wooden panels like a dock, and shaped like an old carriage wheel. There was a large center platform with several branches that stretched out to a bigger ring that enclosed everything, which was where she stood. But it was strange. There were gaps, stairs, precarious bridges, and steep ramps. It looked like she was standing in the middle of some nightmare water obstacle course, but rather than inflatable and safe, it was slippery and unforgiving. She turned around, tucking her hair behind her ears as she looked for Luke.

He dragged himself onto the dock, shaking his head like a dog, first one way, and then the next, trying to get the water that was stuck in his ears out. Luke was a strong swimmer, but he wasn’t a fan of the dark and cold water. [color=995749]"Dude,"[/color] he coughed, on his hands and knees on the dock only three feet away from Imogen. [color=995749]"How the [i]hell[/i] is this a scenario we’d ever be in? Do I look like fucking Auqaman’s son?"[/color] He pushed himself up, squeezing some water out of the front of his shirt. [color=995749]"I’m sure as hell not going on a cruise anytime soon."[/color]

[color=a8f9ff]"Exploiting weaknesses, Luke,"[/color] Imogen reminded him with a sigh. She took a step toward the edge of the dock and looked down at the black abyss beneath them. [color=a8f9ff]"Diamonds sink,"[/color] she muttered under her breath, more to herself than him at the realization. In a pool it was fine, but out in the middle of the ocean? If she sank too far she was fucked. She wouldn’t be able to shift back because either the pressure would kill her or she wouldn’t be able to hold her breath long enough to reach the surface. Of course, it was training and the simulation would end before she [i]died,[/i] but drowning was still drowning… And terrifying.

He turned toward Imogen, frowning at her. [color=995749]"Go diamond, we don’t know what to expect."[/color] 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. [i]Did he not hear what she just said?[/i] [color=a8f9ff]"Darling, this isn’t the bedroom. You don’t get to boss me around."[/color] Imogen pushed her wet hair back out of her face as she followed the outer circle to one of the spindles that led to the large center of the platform. Halfway across she reached some sort of log balance beam that spun the second she placed a foot on it. [i]What in the American Ninja Warrior was this shit?[/i] 

Luke, honest to God, sputtered, throwing an incredulous look at Imogen. She was going to have to go diamond in a fight regardless, he just wanted it to be [i]before[/i] they got shot at, because getting shot at was inevitable in training. [color=995749]"Women,"[/color] he muttered, rolling his eyes but there was an air of playful familiarity about the entire exchange. Before they’d dated, they’d been friends, and even now after years apart it was easy to fall back into the old habits of their friendship. [color=995749]"Just don’t fall in."[/color] He said it jokingly, but there was an edge of stress in his tone. If she fell in, he’d pull her out, but it would put them in an awful spot if they were being attacked. The entire set up put Luke on edge, knowing that this simulation was designed specifically for one of Imogen’s weaknesses didn’t help.

Before Imogen could decide if she wanted to attempt to walk across the precarious log or not, the sound of boat engines carried over the ripples of the water. She looked around but couldn’t see anything through the darkness. She tried to figure out what direction they were coming from, but by the time she had any idea it was evident they were surrounded. Several black motorboats were closing in all around the platform. Glowing red dots started illuminating across her chest. She spared a glance toward Luke seeing even more lasers trained on him. Her initial response was that he’d be fine, but then she remembered he didn’t have a shield or armor… or anything. 

Imogen pivoted and ran back toward him, cutting a corner short and jumping over several feet of water. Her shoes slipped on the wet dock but she managed to find her traction before sliding right over the edge. She shifted into diamond form as she closed the distance between them. [color=a8f9ff]"Sorry about this."[/color] She flashed him an apologetic smile then pushed him backwards, off the platform and into the water. Not a moment after she got him out of the way, gunshots rang out from every direction followed by the [i]ting ting[/i] of the darts hitting her crystalized skin, breaking, and falling to the ground at her feet.

Luke’s hand shot out as he fell, catching the edge of the dock but putting his trajectory off balance. He choked on the air in his lungs out of utter surprise, biting down on his tongue so hard blood instantly filled his mouth, and then water was filling his lungs. He gagged, spitting out a mouthful of blood and water as he resurfaced, wondering vaguely how ridiculous he’d look out of the simulation, drowning while standing on fucking concrete. He was cold, and annoyed, and his fucking tongue hurt, so… he supposed it was time to get serious. 

Kicking off the dock, diving beneath the water, Luke propelled himself toward one of the approaching boats. He could tell they were the kind that were half raft, motors helping them move quickly but the rubber fabric that kept them afloat could be punctured, and that was enough for him. The top of his head emerged from beneath the water behind the boat, eyes glinting, he looked like some horror human parody of an alligator stalking its prey, and he pulled himself onto the raft with silent agility behind the three men who were aiming their guns at Imogen. 

His face was impassive as he slammed his fist into the back of the first man's head, skull caving beneath the pure force that he put into the punch, Luke ducked beneath the shot of the second man as they both turned toward him, going low so he could shove his shoulder into the man's stomach with enough force that he felt his ribs snap. The gun slipped from the simulated goon’s hand right into Luke’s, and he shot the last man in the head without flinching. It was too dark to take count of how many boats there were total, but he shot the bottom of the raft, leaving the last wheezing man to drown as it sank, and he dived back into the water, disappearing from view. 

Imogen ran toward the boat that was closest to docking. Instead of stopping and waiting, her speed increased and she leapt from the platform. She landed in the middle of five men who all looked around dazed and confused for a second. Before they could get their bearings, she threw her foot into the chest of the man closest. He was thrown back with such force that he slammed into the invisible barrier of the concrete wall beneath the simulation, crumpled and fell into the water. Imogen then grabbed the next guy by the straps of his kevlar vest, spun and threw him away to die like the first one. Her brows furrowed as one of the remaining men tried to punch her but only broke his hand. [color=a8f9ff]"Idiot,"[/color] she scoffed as she grabbed his face in her hands, snapped his neck and watched him ragdoll over the side of the boat.

That left two. They tried shooting her but the darts died and fell to the bottom of the boat. One of them kicked her and broke his foot, obviously not learning anything from the other guy. Imogen wasn’t someone for showing off or playing with her food, so rather than toy with them she slammed their heads together with a sickening crunch that caved their skulls in and made their bodies go limp. For an unnecessary extra measure, she jabbed the side of the inflatable motorboat with a diamond finger, puncturing it. Noticing how far she had drifted away. she dived into the water, shifting back to normal as she broke the surface tension and swam back to the edge of the platform. 

Three more boats were sunk in quick succession, Luke slipping in and out of the water in a way that spoke of years of training, his kills quick, clean, and efficient. He dragged himself back onto the platform a few moments after Imogen, shaking his head once more so the water in his hair hit her. [color=995749]"This is fun,"[/color] he said brightly, grinning at her in a way that was bordering on unhinged. [color=995749]"Way better than having to do a mission like this in Antarctica,"[/color] Luke glanced back out at the water, gaze a little distant as he remembered how cold the water had been, even through his wet suit. He’d been younger then, it had been one of his first actual missions. [color=995749]"Yeah, way better."[/color] He held up the gun he’d snagged, weighing it in his palm. 

[color=a8f9ff]"[i]Fun?[/i]"[/color] she scoffed, shooting him an incredulous look. Imogen shook her head after she brushed her hair back out of her face. [color=a8f9ff]"You think my dad had fun when he was ambushed, outnumbered, and kidnapped?"[/color]


[color=995749]"Christ,"[/color] Luke looked at her, his face a mix of disgust and exhaustion. [color=995749]"Yeah, my fucking bad. God forbid I enjoy not [i]actually[/i] getting shot at for once."[/color] Not everyone had the fucking privlige of getting to live life in the lap of luxury until shit hit the fan, not that someone like Imogen would realize that. 

God she wished she was in her diamond form when the thought crossed his mind so she didn’t have to hear it. Imogen’s jaw clenched, inhaling deeply as she shook her head. [color=a8f9ff]"Fuck you,"[/color] the words slipped from her lips like a whisper on the wind. [color=a8f9ff]"Not everyone is as [i]untouchable[/i] as you, Luke."[/color] She motioned her hand in the general direction of the murmuring thoughts of the others hidden behind the veil of the simulation. Since when had Imogen become the one who took training more seriously? A decade ago the man in front of her would have been the first to tell people to think of the gravity of the situation and now he reveled in a simulation meant to prepare them for the likelihood of being attacked and possibly kidnapped. 

[color=995749]"Pass,"[/color] He rolled his eyes, glancing down at the water with an expression verging on boredom. [color=995749]"I’m not the same kid I was a few years ago, Imogen. I don’t care what you think about me anymore, I’ve seen shit that would give you nightmares, just because I’ve been trained to deal with this doesn’t mean you can take your grief out on me. I can take care of any more boats."[/color] Though, she could too from what he’d seen. Did Imogen really think she wasn’t a fighter? She made it look easy, Magni was probably trying to hide a boner on the other side of the window. Whatever, he was beyond the point of caring anymore, this was all stupid.

Imogen scoffed and rolled her eyes. [color=a8f9ff]"And just because you let your dad plan your life for you doesn’t mean you can take your frustrations out on me."[/color] Her gaze fell to a red dot that appeared on Luke’s chest. She quickly shifted back into her diamond form, then stuck out her hand just in time to stop the dart, catching it in her palm and tossing it into the water. [color=a8f9ff]"Do whatever you want, Luke."[/color] He could go have [i]fun[/i] sinking boats or doing whatever he wanted for all she cared. 

Meanwhile she took off down one of the cross sections of the platform toward the center where several men had already filed off boats and made their way toward them. Imogen shifted out of her diamond form for just a second as she sprinted across the rotating log, nearly losing her balance once or twice before she slid onto the flat dock on the other side. Bullets ricocheted off her skin the second she shifted back. Her pace slowed as she came to a halt in a cross section of the platform, looking around at the dozen men that surrounded her waiting. They looked around at each other before one to her left raised his gun and tried shooting her. There was the familiar [i]ting[/i] of the dart smacking her hardened skin and falling to the ground. She sighed, reaching out and grabbing his hand around the handle of the pistol, crushing his bones and gun with a simple squeeze. She yanked the destroyed weapon from his hand, shoved it in his eye socket then pushed him backwards into the water.

Imogen systematically worked through the group of mercenaries, letting them act first before she incapacitated them one at a time. It wasn’t until they were down to just three that they actually rubbed their brains together to do something smarter than trying to shoot her or punch her. All at once they charged her, sending the four of them falling backwards off the dock and into the water. She could barely see in the dark depths of the ocean as she rapidly sank. Just as she went to shift her hand found one of them. Using his momentum and buoyancy to her advantage, she forcefully pushed him down deeper while launching herself up a bit further. Then just before she started sinking again, Imogen shifted out of her diamond form and frantically started kicking her legs. 

Her lungs were on fire when she finally broke the surface with a desperate gasp. The other two men who fell in with her treaded water nearby. There wasn’t time for Imogen to catch her breath, not yet. She swam to the nearest one, coming up behind him and wrapped her legs around his waist. Then with all the strength she could muster, she pressed her hands down on his head and shoved his face beneath the water. He struggled and thrashed, clawing at her legs but her hold only tightened the more he fought. The man beneath her was growing weak, but the other refused to sit by and watch. He pulled out his gun and shot her in the shoulder. Imogen cried out in pain, grimacing through gritted teeth as she forced herself to hold on until the goon within her grasp finally went limp. 

Before she could think better of it, Imogen lunged at the last mercenary. The second her hands grabbed fistfuls of his clothes, she switched to her diamond form, letting her weight drag them both underwater. Imogen broke his hands as he tried to pry at her grip. She then pulled him beneath her, pressed her feet into his chest, launching him like a torpedo deep into the black abyss. She should have switched then, but watched until he disappeared into the voice before changing back and swimming to the surface. There was a moment where she nearly sucked in a lungful of water, but she pushed through, getting lightheaded just as she felt the chill of the night air against her wet skin. She gasped, coughed and sucked in a sharp breath.

A hand caught around her bicep, and Luke hefted Imogen up and out of the water with one arm, plopping her onto the deck as delicately as he could manage before pulling away. There was a pile of bodies behind him, messily stacked up, and he looked… bored. He wasn’t even winded, barely looking ruffled after his own fight while Imogen had been taking on her own enemies. [color=995749]"Watermelon."[/color] His voice rang out, tone lazy as he turned toward the window with a half shrug. [color=995749]"I don’t get the point, I do shit like this everyday. Maybe the training should be for people who actually need it."[/color] Luke slid his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, stepping over the glob of blood he’d spat on the concrete and heading toward the doors without looking back. 

He’d taken it seriously at first, took down his fair share of simulated goons, but… it was nothing new for him, and therefore it was boring and a waste of time. Lucian didn’t need this sort of training, and it was more of a disservice to the others to take up this time than it was to move on. 

Imogen was pulled out of the water and set on the dock before she could register what Luke was doing. She took a second, knelt on the ground and coughing up water and trying to catch her breath. But she couldn’t rest long. Just as she went to push off the ground and stand up, he called out the safe word and the simulation melted away. She wheezed and spat out the water from her lungs before looking around confused. [color=a8f9ff]"[i]What the fuck?[/i]"[/color] Her voice was hoarse and strained from her strangled breathing. Imogen slapped her hands against the damp concrete before she stood up. She was the [i]last[/i] person to train, but even [i]she[/i] could see the importance behind it. The one time where it felt more real and necessary than ever before he pulled her out because [i]he was too good for it.[/i] She stared at his back in disbelief at how much time had changed him. 

She trudged behind him, water dripping from her hair and clothes as her sneakers squeaked against the floor with each step. Imogen said nothing, nor met anyone’s gaze as she made her way back to her seat beside Magni. She swallowed the lump of exasperation that grew in her throat as she lowered herself onto the bench beside him and crossed her arms over her chest. Frustrated tears welled in her eyes but she blinked them away, staring straight ahead with a cold anger painted across her face.

Luke, for his credit, felt a [i]little[/i] guilty for cutting it short… but he really didn’t need the training. As far as he saw it, it was better for the people who actually needed it to step in. Sure, he wasn’t the most gentle about it, but he wasn’t a fucking kid anymore, he was… he was a solider, and he couldn’t pretend to be anything other than that, not even for Imogen. He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall, and didn’t look at anyone. He’d been wrong, the friendships he’d had before were dead and gone, and he was too different now for the people who used to care about him to care anymore. 

That was fine. He didn’t care… his teeth ground together, jaw clenched so hard, the taste of blood still lingering on his tongue. He was here to help and once they sorted this mess out, he could disappear again. [i]Not like anyone missed me last time.[/i] Luke let out a small breath, pushing all of his feelings down as deep as he could, before refocusing on the next team up for training. He reminded himself, not for the first nor last time, that his dad was right… it was better this way.[/color][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]

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