Clink... Clink... Clink... The weights sounded like a hammer steadily hitting a nail. Clink... Clink... Breath out, push up; breath in, pull down. One, two... nine, ten. Rest. Water. Wipe the sweat of your brow. Tighten the band holding your hair in place. Sigh. The weights were too light. The workout too easy. He could lift twice this easily. He had before. He walked to the weight rack, and grabbed two more weights to either side of the bar. The total was now 110kg. Nik lifted the bar with ease, again. He sighed, again. He'd already been in the weight room for two hours, slowly adding more and more weight to his lifts. Around him people came and went. Girls in tight clothing, some pretending to lift while interested guys watched them hungrily. A few didn't speak or show off; they came, worked out, then left without acknowledging anyone.

Nik preferred those people. The people that shared his silent determination. He wasn't here to show off, though that didn't spare him numerous glances. He was here to train, to become something stronger. Which was proving more and more difficult as the days wore on. He was already one of the strongest students here. There were only so many weights. There was only so much time in a day. Nik scoffed at himself, and the excuses he made. Excuses would get him nowhere. The only thing that would help was to train, to get better. To further himself from the scrawny Russian child that died in an alley in New York. He would not be weak. He was strong. Strong enough to take care of his mother, his sister, and himself. He just had to train.

Some of the girls at YJA called his body 'God-like'. He'd smirked at that. To think that they compared him to a god when his alter-ego was named after those greater than the gods. The Titans. The beings that, according to the Greeks, helped form the Earth. While at the other school, Nik had become very interested in Greek mythology. He enjoyed learning about the Titans most of all. He wasn't made of marble, like the statues of the Gods. He was made of something harder than steel.

Nik moved from the bench to the treadmill. As he passed a group of people, he heard them muttering something about the library. Apparently something had happened that caused a bit of damage. Nik didn't really care all that much. He didn't spend much time in the library. The Professor had bought him a kindle for all his book needs; Nik only uses it for his school books, which he rarely reads, the few books he has about the Greeks, and a couple children's book in Russian that he used to read to Anna. A thought that reminded him that he needed to email he today.

Thump... Thump... Thump... His feet hit the treadmill with calculated precision. Fast... Faster... Thump, thump, thump...

He ran as fast as his feet could carry him. The other boys' shouts trailed after him, growing quieter with every step. He'd stolen from the bakery again. This time he'd been caught. He didn't know why they were making such a fuss about it; he'd taken the bread out of the rubbish bin. Maybe they weren't chasing him for that. Most of them were friends with the boy who's nose he broke at school two days ago. Maybe they were angry for that. The boy deserved it though. He'd called Nik's mother a shlyukha... a whore. Nik didn't stop punching the boy, even after he'd heard the sickening crunch.

The treadmill screamed underneath his feet. A hand clamped down on his shoulder, and he shot his head to the right. "Take it easy, kid. You've pushed it too far." Guardian said sternly. Nik stepped off the treadmill cautiously; the tread was still moving, despite Nik not powering it anymore. Nik simply nodded, and wiped the sweat off his faced. He mentor shook his head. "Nikolae," Guardian said, "you've been here enough for today. Remember we have that event tomorrow. Get some rest. You'll want to be in tip-top shape for the tournaments." He patted Nik's back firmly. "Though, I suppose you're always in peak condition." He chuckled, but Nik frowned. He couldn't be at the top if every exercise didn't tire him out. He looked at the treadmill. 5 miles, and he was barely sweating; he wasn't tired, or thirsty. He hadn't pushed far enough today. But if Guardian was telling him to stop, he had no choice but to listen. He nodded, and headed towards the locker room.

He dressed slowly after his shower, thinking about what he was going to do tomorrow. He'd have a day off from the gym... but still. He'd be competing. He wondered how far the others would push themselves; how far should he push himself. What were the rules? Could he armor up? He frowned, leaving the locker room with his dufflebag slung over his shoulder. He stood taller than a lot of people that he walked passed; girls whispered, giggled, and pointed; guys he knew held up their hands for high-fives. He didn't know what he'd done to be so well-known at the school. People always said hello to him; he would nod back. They didn't seem to mind that he didn't speak to them. He hadn't really done anything out of the ordinary, apart from lifting large amounts of weight in the gym.

He politely made his way passed a group of girls standing outside his next class. One smiled at him, and put her hand on his chest briefly - as it to see if he way really there. He returned her smile nervously, before pushing passed her into the room. He walked over to the vacant seat next to the window, dropped his bag on the floor, and sat down. He then crossed his arms, and promptly fell asleep.



Still steaming from her conversation with Oliver, Grace marched angrily across the school grounds. She would normally be going to her next class... but she wasn't up for it in her current state. I really need a drink. She thought before stopping dead in her tracks. She shock her head violently, as if she was hoping to for the though to explode out of her ears. Oliver would kill her for thinking that. Heck, everyone that knew her secret would kill her for thinking that. She smacked her face, and righted her headphones.

Before she could take another step, her hip vibrated. She danced to get her phone out of the tight pocket of her jeans. She scanned the screen excited, before reading message from Oliver. She sighed, and opened it. Don't forget about the event tomorrow. I got you a gift. It's on your bed. Oliver. Grace smirked. Good old Oliver, doing something to make her not mad at him anymore.

As she put her phone away, she caught movement to her left. She immediately assumed a fighting mindset. She bent down, as if to tie her shoe, and grabbed a small rock. Her other hand reach to her thigh to grab her slingshot. She stood and aimed a rock at the shadows, ready to strike the target's throat. "Dammit, Shadow." She lowed her weapon, and stared at him. He was in his uniform, so she could only assume he'd been on a mission. At least he was taken on missions. Grace scowled. "I could have hit you." She said angrily, dropping her arms to her side. The rock clattered to the ground.

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