I look around the training room as everyone enters. I’m just in the middle of doing my stretches when I notice Thirteen is joining us today. This should be interesting.

Behind him is Seventeen, walking with that strangely graceful walk again. I guess Thirteen is still training him privately. I wonder what that must be like. Thirteen’s fighting style is bizarre; to say the least. None of us can figure out how he does it so we just usually leave him be since we know he won’t talk to any of us about it. His style of fighting is seriously freaky and deadly, but thankfully Seventeen won’t be able to learn it quickly. At least I hope so. I’ve been training my personal hand to hand style for nearly a year now and still haven’t completely mastered it, so how could Seventeen master someone else’s in a matter of days?

Three and Eight are the last to enter. I try my best to avoid looking at Eight. I know what has to be done. Everyone but Thirteen and Seventeen lines up in front of Three. I guess we’re not doing free training today.

Three takes a long look at all of us. I slowly find my gaze resting on her hair. I can’t help but admire it. How could it be so dark and sleek? But that’s just part of what makes her so dangerous; that beautiful darkness that surrounds her.

“We’re not using abilities today,” Three says. Her eyes are particularly fixed on Ten. “The Doctor believes that we were not efficient enough on our last mission and need to greatly increase our stamina. In light of this, for the next few weeks we will focus solely on improving our stamina and our physical combat prowess.”

Three pauses, as if she is expecting one of us to reply. Is it just me or does she keep staring at Nine? I can’t help but feel a small shiver creeping its way up my spine.

“We’ll start with fifty laps. That’s fairly light for today.”

Sometimes I wonder if Three can hear the way she speaks. What on earth is light about fifty laps? Maybe she’s crazy. No-one else questions this however. I follow suit and join everyone as they fall into a slow paced jog. This is definitely going to take a while considering the enormous size of the training room.

As we make our way around the room, I notice everyone else has their eyes fixed on the centre of the room. Making sure to keep a steady pace, I turn my attention to see what all the fuss is about.

Thirteen seems to have made Seventeen stay completely still in the stance he usually takes for combat. So he definitely is learning Thirteen’s style. Great. Make him more dangerous, why don’t you? By the end of this he’s going to be a full fledged unstoppable terminator. Just what the world needs; another mass weapon of war.

I turn my attention back to the laps. Three who is in front seems to have upped the pace and now I’m half sprinting. Does she really intend for us to do forty-eight more laps at this pace?

Something in the corner of my eye catches my attention. It’s the crack I noticed yesterday. The same yellow liquid is still slowly dripping down. That really needs to be fixed, doesn’t it? I wonder what that yellow liquid is anyway.

After nearly half an hour of sprinting I feel a slight tug in my chest. It happens on and off for a few minutes. What’s that? My mind races back to the moment I was in the shower and felt as if I had a heart attack. I should have told Nine about that. Maybe I’m glitching. If I am then I may be taken away by the Doctor. If that will happen then I definitely can’t let Three find out. I should definitely tell Nine. After a few more minutes the tugs in my chest fade away and I breathe a sigh of relief.

This time it may just be the fatigue from all the running we’ve been doing. Only twenty more laps to go.

My attention turns back to the centre of the room where Thirteen is training Seventeen. What I see surprises me. They’ve already started actual combat training and are moving back and forth, slowly practicing moves. That was fast. In fact, it seems as if Seventeen is a natural at using Thirteen’s style; which we’ve all taken to naming the Wave. Mainly because he moves back and forth and strikes unpredictably like a wave, wearing you down quickly. Talk about cheesy nicknames, eurgh.

I watch Seventeen’s graceful movements and can’t help being mesmerized. I watch as his body sways left and right, following Thirteen’s instructions. It’s almost as if he’s the air himself, moving without any restrictions.

I tear my attention away from them again. Last lap. I can do this. I don’t bother to wipe away my sweat. It trails down from my forehead to my neck. I’ve never been this tired before, but I’m still quite surprised how well we all managed to do so many laps. Fifty laps isn’t as crazy as I thought it would be. Clearly I underestimated the strength of our bodies. I can’t wait to finish. As soon as I realise I’ve completed the final lap I let myself fall to the floor. I roll onto my back and take in all the air I can.

“Good,” Three says. She’s barely even sweating. What a monster. “We’ll move on to combat training like yesterday. Abilities are restricted. Pair up!”

She won’t even give us time to rest? Jeez. Such an evil witch. I look around and see the only person who’s left unpaired is Sixteen. Great. I get the annoying kid. This should be fun.

“Wait,” Three says. Looking around she points to Sixteen and to Seventeen. “Switch.”

“Seventeen hasn’t finished his training yet,” Nine says.

“It’s fine,” Thirteen replies. “It’s actually the best way for him to improve right now.”

Nine doesn’t say anything again and turns back to face his partner. I hold my breath as Seventeen walks over to me. This is the first time I’ve been alone with him since the last mission. I don’t know what to expect.

“Hey, Two,” he says.

I nod back in reply. Hang on. Did he just call me Two? Wasn’t he calling me Sky before? What changed? The warm feeling I usually get around him is nowhere to be found now. I don’t have enough time to think about it because Three claps her hand signalling the start of training.

I immediately raise my fists, preparing for any weird things Thirteen might have taught Seventeen. He takes his stance but doesn’t make any sudden movements. He just watches me. This continues for nearly half a minute till I get tired of this farce.

I breathe in as I rush towards him. What happens next happens too fast for me to react. As I near him I feint with my right fist, pretending I’m aiming for his face, but instead I spin anti-clockwise as I crouch down with my left leg extended. I intend to sweep his legs. I don’t expect him to be able to react so fast. He does a backflip in the air, quickly evading my attack. Surprised I move towards him again and this time I release a flurry of jabs with my left fist.

Seventeen simply takes a few steps back before using his left palm to deflect my fist with such force my entire body goes spinning after it. How the hell did he do that just by rotating his wrist? Before I have time to react, Seventeen changes his right palm so only his index and middle fingers are extended and strikes with a speed I can’t keep up with.

His attack hits the nape of my neck. My entire body convulses uncontrollably as I collapse to the floor. I can’t feel much pain, but I realise the fight is already over. I can’t feel my arms or legs and know that trying move is pointless. Thirteen taught him too well.

I recognise the feeling from the last time I sparred with Thirteen. He hit me in the exact same spot and my body reacted the same way. How the hell do they do that? They’re bloody freaks of nature.

I can’t even open my mouth to talk. Instead I’m left on the floor to stare at Seventeen’s boots as he crouches down beside me. He looks at me strangely, and it takes a second for me to realise he’s checking if I’m alright.

It’s only now I notice the silence in the room. I can’t turn my head but I know that everyone is watching.

“Great,” Ten says aloud. “Now we have two weirdos.”

I hear One laughing at Ten’s comment before she talks.

“Am I the only one that wonders how the hell Thirteen and Seventeen does that?”

“It’s because they’re both weird,” Five says. “And not the good kind.”

Seventeen then does something I don’t expect. He puts his right hand under my head and his left sweeps up my legs and he lifts me up. This is bad. I can’t move and so I can’t hide my face from him. I can feel the heat on my face and I close my eyes and pray he doesn’t look at me. My heart begins to beat faster and I start finding it hard to breathe. This is the worst possible situation to be near him. I don't want to be this close to him. Not now.

“She’s not going to recover for a while, so take her out of here,” Three says.

Seventeen nods and pulls me closer to his chest. I swear I’m on the verge of fainting. I let myself be helplessly carried off. My face is right next to his chest and I can’t help but notice that faint smell of orchids. Why does he smell like that? God please help me. I’m too vulnerable right now. Being around him is the last thing I need.

A couple of minutes later, I feel as if I can open my mouth now. It takes some effort but I soon manage to move it. Although I can’t feel the rest of my body.

“Put me down!” I yell.

Seventeen pauses for a moment to look down at me. A few strands of his dark hair comes loose from behind his ear and falls over his left eye. But it's his pure black eyes that get to me. They don’t seem as lifeless as before. In fact, as odd as it seems, the darkness of them seems to be welcoming. I find myself longing for them.

My eyes travel all the way down his face to his lips. My face begins to burn and I can feel myself turning red as I remember their softness.

“Three instructed me to take you somewhere to rest,” he says. His voice is the final spark. His soft and light voice that isn’t too deep but has s sort of calling, like a siren. I can remember thinking that it gives off a sort of distinct maturity.

I know that I’m in a dangerous situation and decide to try and change the subject. It’s the only thing I can think of, so I ask him a question.

“Why did you stop calling me Sky?”

I’m expecting him to say that it is because I told him not to before. In that case I know it’s my fault. Instead his reply makes my heart sink.

“Oh,” he replies. “So you’re Sky?”

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