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Description
With a certain consistency a pencil eraser drummed against a wooden desk. "Knock it off Troy! We're trying to take a quiz" whispered an angry female voice.

"You mean your not done yet Chelsea? That's too bad, it was such a simple test."  Troy heard a frustrated, and defeated sigh escape from Chelsea's lips. He felt the air swish as she twirled a strand of her brunet hair in contempt. That'll shut her up for a while.

"Mr. Silver!"

Shit, Grandma Honey. An old women stood before him, smiling in the way annoyed teachers do. White haired and big boned she wasn't too intimidating. But Troy had learned not to underestimate her.

"Perhaps you would like to discuss your poor test-taking habits with Master Carlson."

"No I-"

"That was not a question Troy. Go now please." Damn. He's going to be pissed...

* * * * *

The hallways of the V.A.S.I.S. were not welcoming. Curved walls boxed in the narrow, dimly lit walkway. Fans made a longing and dull sound as they cooled a massive computer system hidden beneath the steel floor. This was the only sound that accompanied Troy's own footsteps as he headed towards the combat training room. Man I just got rid of most of my bruises. Not that he had much to complain about. In two months he had lost 4 pounds of fat and gained 7 pounds of muscle. His once unshaped arms and legs now had muscular definition.  But Carlson had stopped him there. He wanted to keep Troy thin and light.

"What use is more muscle if it only slows you down?" He had said. "No the best of fighters strike like lightning, swift and precise. Preventing their enemies a chance to act." And Troy believed it. Only now was he starting to understand the raw speed that Carlson possessed. Even so there wasn't much Troy could do to stop it. Oh boy, I just can't wait for yet another trouncing at the hands of the master. This is going to suck...

* * * * *

Troy's prediction had  proved correct; Carlson was pissed. "So what is it today Troy? Fighting with your peers, vandalizing our equipment, or perhaps you made another witty but ill-advised remark?"

"I spoke when I wasn't supposed to," muttered a rather indifferent Troy.

"Ah so I was right, it was another scathing remark. Well no matter, I had a lesson planed for you today anyways." This statement instantly set a knot in Troy's stomach. These never end well. Troy slipped farther away from Carlson backing himself against a wall. He noticed that Carlson started to meander his way closer as well.

"So what punishment is it today then?"

"Oh Troy you are too distrusting of me. These exercises aren't a punishment." With vision-blurring speed Carlson slammed his fist into the wall, brushing Troy's hair as it went by.
"These test are the only thing that stand between you and certain death in the future. Remember that." Troy was glad he went to the bathroom before-hand. His pants surely would have been soaked.

"I-I um- uhh"

"Today's lesson is simple. Your goal is to 'survive'. If I knock you out you've died and the lesson is over. Understand?"

"But that's not-"

"Good the lesson starts now." Surprisingly Carlson stood up and retreated to the far corner of the room. Back against the wall he crossed his arms while a brooding look spread across his face. What the hell is he doing? He's not even in a defensive stance. I better be careful. Troy slid along his wall until he was standing in his own corner. He was determined to outlast Carlson this time. Even if he had to stand and watch all day.

* * * * *

A familiar voice lit the dark. "Psst, hey Troy wake up."
Wah? Red?... Oh shit. Troy's eyes snapped open, and the room was empty. The door noisily opened as Carlson swung into the room, almost spilling the two cups of coffee in his hands.
"Morning!"
"Umm morning? Already?"
"Well yeah you've been asleep for eight hours."
"Damn. Did I lose?" Carlson gave a light laugh and handed Troy a cup of coffee.
"No you fell asleep all on your own. I didn't do a thing. So technically it didn't count."

"Oh," said Troy as he took a sip of coffee. A victorious grin blossomed on Carlson's face.

"Now you lose."

"Wait what? Hey- What the hell?... What did you-?"

"Put in the coffee? Methohexitone, it's an anesthetic. Remember Troy, always think before you act. Most importantly, never assume you're safe. Fist and blades are not the enemy. Why shoot you when you'll willingly drink a poisoned coffee? Meals and smiles are more lethal than dynamite." He snapped his fingers in Troy's face.

"Hang in there Troy. I'm not done yet. Slip up once and you will die. Trust were it's not deserved and you'll end up six feet under. Oh and Troy? Have a nice sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow." Troy tried to resist. Damn it. I screwed up. Now I... I... hm...

Description
With a certain consistency a pencil eraser drummed against a wooden desk. "Knock it off Troy! We're trying to take a quiz" whispered an angry female voice.

"You mean your not done yet Chelsea? That's too bad, it was such a simple test."  Troy heard a frustrated, and defeated sigh escape from Chelsea's lips. He felt the air swish as she twirled a strand of her brunet hair in contempt. That'll shut her up for a while.

"Mr. Silver!"

Shit, Grandma Honey. An old women stood before him, smiling in the way annoyed teachers do. White haired and big boned she wasn't too intimidating. But Troy had learned not to underestimate her.

"Perhaps you would like to discuss your poor test-taking habits with Master Carlson."

"No I-"

"That was not a question Troy. Go now please." Damn. He's going to be pissed...

* * * * *

The hallways of the V.A.S.I.S. were not welcoming. Curved walls boxed in the narrow, dimly lit walkway. Fans made a longing and dull sound as they cooled a massive computer system hidden beneath the steel floor. This was the only sound that accompanied Troy's own footsteps as he headed towards the combat training room. Man I just got rid of most of my bruises. Not that he had much to complain about. In two months he had lost 4 pounds of fat and gained 7 pounds of muscle. His once unshaped arms and legs now had muscular definition.  But Carlson had stopped him there. He wanted to keep Troy thin and light.

"What use is more muscle if it only slows you down?" He had said. "No the best of fighters strike like lightning, swift and precise. Preventing their enemies a chance to act." And Troy believed it. Only now was he starting to understand the raw speed that Carlson possessed. Even so there wasn't much Troy could do to stop it. Oh boy, I just can't wait for yet another trouncing at the hands of the master. This is going to suck...

* * * * *

Troy's prediction had  proved correct; Carlson was pissed. "So what is it today Troy? Fighting with your peers, vandalizing our equipment, or perhaps you made another witty but ill-advised remark?"

"I spoke when I wasn't supposed to," muttered a rather indifferent Troy.

"Ah so I was right, it was another scathing remark. Well no matter, I had a lesson planed for you today anyways." This statement instantly set a knot in Troy's stomach. These never end well. Troy slipped farther away from Carlson backing himself against a wall. He noticed that Carlson started to meander his way closer as well.

"So what punishment is it today then?"

"Oh Troy you are too distrusting of me. These exercises aren't a punishment." With vision-blurring speed Carlson slammed his fist into the wall, brushing Troy's hair as it went by.
"These test are the only thing that stand between you and certain death in the future. Remember that." Troy was glad he went to the bathroom before-hand. His pants surely would have been soaked.

"I-I um- uhh"

"Today's lesson is simple. Your goal is to 'survive'. If I knock you out you've died and the lesson is over. Understand?"

"But that's not-"

"Good the lesson starts now." Surprisingly Carlson stood up and retreated to the far corner of the room. Back against the wall he crossed his arms while a brooding look spread across his face. What the hell is he doing? He's not even in a defensive stance. I better be careful. Troy slid along his wall until he was standing in his own corner. He was determined to outlast Carlson this time. Even if he had to stand and watch all day.

* * * * *

A familiar voice lit the dark. "Psst, hey Troy wake up."
Wah? Red?... Oh shit. Troy's eyes snapped open, and the room was empty. The door noisily opened as Carlson swung into the room, almost spilling the two cups of coffee in his hands.
"Morning!"
"Umm morning? Already?"
"Well yeah you've been asleep for eight hours."
"Damn. Did I lose?" Carlson gave a light laugh and handed Troy a cup of coffee.
"No you fell asleep all on your own. I didn't do a thing. So technically it didn't count."

"Oh," said Troy as he took a sip of coffee. A victorious grin blossomed on Carlson's face.

"Now you lose."

"Wait what? Hey- What the hell?... What did you-?"

"Put in the coffee? Methohexitone, it's an anesthetic. Remember Troy, always think before you act. Most importantly, never assume you're safe. Fist and blades are not the enemy. Why shoot you when you'll willingly drink a poisoned coffee? Meals and smiles are more lethal than dynamite." He snapped his fingers in Troy's face.

"Hang in there Troy. I'm not done yet. Slip up once and you will die. Trust were it's not deserved and you'll end up six feet under. Oh and Troy? Have a nice sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow." Troy tried to resist. Damn it. I screwed up. Now I... I... hm...