Training Grounds

  Monday Morning

  06:00

  Shanon steps forward first.

  “Before we begin the next stage, General Kaijuu will address you. Listen carefully.”

  Three hundred soldiers stand in formation—ten rows of thirty. Faces determined. Some nervous. Some overconfident.

  I unfold the speech Wilfred, Shanon, and I prepared.

  “Out of every one hundred soldiers, ten shouldn’t even be here. They’re usually the first to die.

  Eighty are just soldiers. They make up the numbers.

  Nine are fighters.

  And then there’s the one.

  The one who changes everything.

  That’s who we’re looking for.”

  Silence spreads across the field.

  “This week is designed to make you quit. Our mission is to break you. You will want to ring the bell behind me.

  If you do, you will never be allowed to attempt this training again.

  Ladies and gentlemen…”

  I step aside, revealing the iron bell mounted on its stand.

  “WELCOME TO HELL WEEK.”

  A few swallow.

  “Let’s begin. Follow me.”

  ---

  We run.

  Morning becomes afternoon.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I split them into three groups of one hundred—Wilfred takes one, Shanon takes another, I take the last.

  They run until their legs tremble.

  There is no sleep for three straight days.

  They run ten kilometers to breakfast. Ten back.

  Ten to lunch. Ten back.

  Ten to dinner. Ten back.

  They are ordered to eat as much as possible.

  No potions. No artificial recovery.

  Everything must be restored naturally.

  By Wednesday night, their eyes are hollow.

  We grant them four hours of sleep.

  Only four.

  ---

  Thursday.

  Felmina arrives to observe.

  The trainees are mid–push-up set.

  Behind the bell, helmets are stacked neatly—ten by ten.

  Like gravestones.

  The first bell rings.

  Then another.

  Wilfred, Felmina, and I walk between the lines.

  “You want comfort?” I shout. “It’s right there! Ring it!”

  Some glare at me.

  Some avoid my eyes.

  The bell continues to toll.

  By nightfall, I borrow mages from the Magic Division.

  “Freeze. Wind.”

  Cold air slices across exhausted bodies.

  They shiver violently.

  I arrive with an open-backed carriage.

  Warm soup.

  Blankets.

  A ride back to base.

  “Ring the bell,” I say calmly. “And this is yours.”

  Several do.

  Felmina rides back with me.

  “Have you decided?” I ask.

  She looks at the broken bodies left behind.

  Then at me.

  “I have.”

  “And?”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “You’ll get no special treatment. You start in two weeks.”

  “I understand.”

  I drop off the quitters and return.

  Seventy-five remain.

  ---

  For the rest of the week, they are divided by height—teams of six.

  They carry massive logs.

  Drag the bodyweight slabs they forged themselves.

  Push-ups.

  Pull-ups.

  Sit-ups.

  Flutter kicks.

  Eight-count bodybuilders.

  Until their SP bars are nearly empty.

  Then we make them do more.

  Even drained, a body can still move.

  Hell Week is designed to prove that.

  By Sunday evening—

  Twenty-nine remain.

  I step forward.

  “Hell Week is over.”

  They don’t cheer.

  They barely breathe.

  We hand them black shirts.

  The logo burns red against the fabric:

  **Kaijuu Bears.**

  A skewed infinity symbol—the left curve forming a fanged bear’s face, the right a clawed paw.

  “Movement, combat, tactics, stealth, and hand signals will fill the next two weeks. You have two days off.”

  They limp away.

  ---

  I return home.

  Felmina’s hair is cut short.

  Sharp.

  Wild.

  I drag her to the bedroom immediately.

  The next morning I remind her to bind her chest like Roka once did.

  ---

  Two weeks later.

  Monday.

  Training continues.

  We are behind schedule—but improving.

  An idea strikes me.

  I head to the forestry division.

  “Fifty trees. Sixty meters each.”

  Workers stare.

  “Debark them. Square them. Split lengthwise.”

  They move.

  I order the planks engraved and enchanted.

  From Support, I requisition rafters, one hundred ropes—eighty meters each—hammers, and crates of nails.

  No one asks why.

  Good.

  Felmina completes her training.

  Commander Gary accepts her into a half division.

  I return her gravity suit, custom armor, and twin blades.

  With two graduating classes and instructors retained, our elite unit now stands at 324 Kaijuu Bears.

  The trainers elect to tattoo the logo on themselves.

  And on the new Bears.

  The army marches.

  We arrive three months early.

  Plenty of time.

  To reshape the battlefield.