As Kai endured the rest of Takeshi's crazy routine, Nadya and Sven were also training. But their training was far less sophisticated, to say the least.

Nadya's idea of training was simple, brutal, and very Nadya.

Her explosive orbs needed sharper accuracy. She wanted better control over the blast radius and power output. They needed to move faster, and she needed to be able to use more of them without tiring out.

What better way to push herself than using a live, moving target?

And what better target than Sven?

Of course, to make it "fair," she restricted him to a small marked-out area so he couldn't just bolt off into the woods. He had to dodge, react, and survive her barrages up close.

It was the perfect setup: Nadya would sharpen her control, and Sven would force his mutant ability to develop under extreme pressure.

At least, in Nadya's mind.

When she explained it aloud, it just sounded completely insane.

Especially since Sven was already drained and wanted nothing more than to get a drink with a fine lady back in the city.

'Maybe I shouldn't have come with them,' he groaned internally.

The night prior, while the others were fast asleep, he'd spent hours sprinting through forests, masking their trail, setting false paths, doubling back - paranoid about being tracked.

He knew how easy it was to be hunted down. That was his job after all, alongside infiltration, stealing, and spying.

But when it came to mutants, you could never be too careful or predict what may come.

A clairvoyant mutant could very well exist somewhere - hired by the Association or the Russian authorities to find them. Unlikely, sure. But Sven covered what he could and didn't worry about anything else.

Then he ran around trying to get Takeshi's blindfold off in their mutant game again in the morning, and he also had a fight with Nadya and Kai.

His legs were already aching and twitching from overusing his ability.

And now?

He was being used as a live target.

"Time for training, lazy bastard!" Nadya yelled gleefully.

Sven didn't even get a chance to argue before she hurled the first orb at him moments after explaining how they were going to train.

"What the fuck, Nadya?!" he screamed as he narrowly zipped away in a flash of speed, the ground behind him exploding in a fiery blast.

Nadya laughed wildly and fired off another. And another.

Sven's life instantly devolved into a hellish, high-stakes game of dodgeball - with bombs.

Meanwhile, Amina sat a safe distance away, focusing on her own training.

The vitality she could store and transfer naturally regenerated over time, but seeing everyone else pushing themselves made her want to improve, too.

She quietly focused on speeding up her vitality's recovery, consciously drawing in energy, preparing to heal the inevitable injuries that would come. Because with the way Sven was sprinting, tripping, dodging, and occasionally catching fire... He was going to need it.

One blast even singed a chunk of his precious hair.

That earned a roar of pure rage from Sven as he charged forward, only for his legs to seize up and trip over his own foot, crashing into the dirt.

Nadya nearly fell over laughing.

Amina shook her head.

Chaotic? Absolutely. Dangerous? Of course. Effective? Surprisingly, yes.

Both of them were sharpening their reflexes, pushing their stamina and control beyond their limits through sheer madness.

And since they didn't have to conserve energy, despite Sven's legs and Nadya's arms feeling as though they were going to tear, they continued onwards.

Meanwhile, Isaac...

Isaac wandered the fringes of the clearing like a lost soul.

He didn't stray far - half because he didn't want to get lost, and half because he was genuinely terrified of what he might run into out here alone.

All kinds of self-loathing thoughts were bouncing around his head.

'Pathetic. Weak. Useless.'

Even back when he had both arms, he wouldn't have stood a chance against the others. And now?

Now he was even less.

He kicked a rock bitterly, staring at the ground.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A series of distant explosions rocked the air.

Isaac's head snapped up.

He hesitated for a moment, then trudged toward the sound, curiosity outweighing his caution.

What he found left him clenching his teeth in frustration.

Sven was dashing at insane speeds across a scorched clearing, narrowly dodging a hurricane of explosive orbs thrown by Nadya, who was laughing like a madwoman. Amina sat off to the side, calmly glowing as she focused on her own training.

It was chaotic and insane, but they were all striving and improving while he was doing nothing with himself.

Just watching made his chest burn with frustration and shame.

Gritting his teeth, Isaac spun around and stormed off in a random direction, not caring where he was heading.

He needed to find somewhere, anywhere, to let out the storm brewing inside him.

He stomped further into the woods, weaving through trees and over rocky trails.

Until he stumbled onto something that made him freeze.

Something equally shocking as Nadya and Sven's madness, but far, far more disturbing.

Isaac's eyes widened.

His breath caught in his throat.

And for a long moment, he just stood there, paralysed by what he was seeing...

-

After the brutal training session with Takeshi, Kai sat against a rock, chest heaving. His body was wrecked. Every muscle ached. His lungs burned.

And yet... frustration gnawed at him more than any physical pain.

Be it his male ego, his competitive nature, or his paranoia - it grated on him to be surrounded by people so much stronger than he was.

That man...

Takeshi had glided through that insane training with grace, as if it was barely a warmup. Supposedly, he did that and more every single day.

And who knew what other crazy shit he got up to behind the scenes and after they had parted ways?

Kai clenched his fists. Even Takeshi struggled against the monster that Nyx had sent their way, and he was sure more of his sadistic games would be coming his way. He didn't just need to rival the others - he needed to surpass them.

There was no way he was going to just sit around feeling sorry for himself, like Isaac was.

No matter how exhausted he was, he needed to keep going. He needed to push past his limits and make use of the ever-developing mutant body of his.

And as much as physical endurance was important, it wasn't the root of his power.

His real strength was... blood!

His bloodweaving.

And if he wanted to survive the world he was being thrown into, if he wanted to carve out a future for himself, he had to master it.

He had to become something terrifying...

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