Liv eyes flutter open, a groan escaping her lips as a throbbing headache slams into her skull. She coughs, smacking her parched lips as bright, white lights burn her sensitive retina. She winces, trying to cover her eyes with her arm, but she finds them heavy and sluggish, near impossible to move. Through her long life of movement and mining, this was the achiest she's ever been save for earliest mining days. Her muscles throb with pain, her arms useless, her legs still spasming and cramping with every minimal movement.

  With all the effort she can muster, she pushes herself up with her trembling elbows, trying to make sense of her surroundings.

  The sight that greets her is akin to a hospital, cots lined up neatly in two perpendicular rows, though all but her corner cot seems to be the only one occupied. There seems to be one entrance, a sign reading "04" displayed prominently on its left.

  Liv shakes her head, trying to swing herself off the bed. She, unfortunately, miscalculates how much strength her body has, the movement buckling her already strained arms. She yelps as her head impacts the cushioned bed, barely suppressing a gag as a wave of nausea claws its way up her throat. She groans, running her hand over her disheveled face, her cold flesh meeting her colder, clammy hands. She sighs, wondering how she got here. Last thing she remembered, she was climbing the stairs. She allows her hands to fall to her sides, the sandpaper feeling cot clawing at her bare hands.

  ...Bare hands?

  Liv looks down at her hands, finally noticing the lack of gauntlets on them. Her pain becomes an afterthought to the panic blossoming in her chest.

  “...Boss?” She calls hoarsely, a raspy cough escaping afterwards. Damn, her throat was drier than she thought. She could barely rasp out that call before breaking out into a fit of dry coughs. Her head swivels around, trying to see if she can find any sign of her boss’ whereabouts. Next to her is a side table, but nothing of note rests on it.

  “You’re awake. Thought you had a heart attack when I found you slumped on those stairs!” A familiar, authoritative voice rings through the room, causing Liv to startle. Her head swings over, catching sight of George’s old figure standing in the doorway, his hands coming up placatingly as he sees her wide eyes. “Calm down, sleeping beauty. No reason to be scared.” He jokes, walking up with his hands raised in front of him.

  Liv’s breathing slows, her fried brain calming down enough to see a modicum of reason, her head subconsciously nodding, a reassurance of safety to herself. Still, she can feel her heart thrumming in her chest, beating with worry, a question broiling in her mind. She feels she has to ask for it right now so she won’t ponder it later, and won't worry over something she can clear up now.

  “Am I in trouble?” She questions, her voice a low rasp.

  “Trouble?” George questions, a smile breaking out over his face. “That’s what you’re worried about? Being in ‘trouble’?”

  “I ain’t a trouble seekin’ sort.” She mutters.

  “Your little stunt with Mr. Orinthow says otherwise.” George snipes, causing Liv to wince. She didn't know he heard that, though she didn't know if he had some ability to hear over the volume. Ean had asked her a similar question and she wasn't offended, though she knew she was different in more ways than one.

  “Is that gonna get me in trouble?” She rasps questioningly.

  “Hell no.” George says definitively, a chuckle peeling from his lips as he settles on the edge of the bed, the springs creaking under his weight. “If I had to punish every shitty kid who got in a fight in the first week of testing, I’d be kicking out my entire fighting force. People like us are the only ones who can kill demons in their homes, and that tends to give people big heads.” He sighs, a wistful expression passing his features as he mumbles. “I know I had one when I was your age.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt em.” She says softly, a hint of guilt creeping in her voice. “I just ain’t the talkin’ sort.”

  “Oh?” He questions, a smirk creeping on his weathered face. “So you aren’t the sort for trouble or speech? Most people here are the sort for one of those." He jokes. "Makes me wonder why you’re here.”

  “Eh?” Liv looks over, her mind processing the words. The question wasn’t unfamiliar to her, a question Fabio and Charlotte had asked her. She thinks about lying, but decides it wouldn’t do her any good. She clears her throat, realizing the amount of time that had passed. “Honestly? I dunno. At first, I just wanted to get outta where I was. Reckoned anywhere was better than that place, and it sure as hell has been." She says, her head shifting on the uncomfortable cot. " Food, water, n' a bed are all nice. Wish I wasn’t fuckin’ up so much. though.” She ends, her voice petering off.

  George nods, his smirk growing to a full blown smile, an imperceptible morsel of tension leaving his body. He cackles, slapping Liv on the shoulder as he does. Shots of pain erupt through her body, her nerves frayed beyond belief.

  “Ha! I like you already, kid!" He says boisterously. "Let me tell ya, it’s rare I get to see a real, authentic underdog take gold from the nepo's and brats I get these days!”

  Liv winces, his loud tone blasting her sensitive eardrums, irritating her already rampant headache. She had no clue what he was talking about, why these “nepo’s” were brad, nor did she know any brats. She latches onto a specific, however, the wording of it planting a blossom of hope in her chest.

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  “Gold?” She mutters. “I won?”

  “Kid,” He says flatly, a smile still plastered on his face. “You broke the Deadlift and Bench, and completely obliterated the Squat. I've someone break a machine like that twice, maybe three times in my career,.”

  He booms out another laugh, clapping her on the shoulder. A wave of pain shoots through her aching muscles, but Liv can’t help but smile as he praises her, pride blooming in her chest, seeping through her blood like a medicinal balm, washing away the shame from her soul.

  “It ain’t done, though.” George continues, his words dampening her pride a tad. “Only a handful of you kids actually finished testing before you destroyed those machines, so we had to move everyone offsite to finish their testing, and the nearest base with proper equipment is over in Missouri. Technically, your record could be broken. Honestly, though?” He says, looking around exaggeratedly, his voice dropping to a comical whisper. “I ain’t supposed to show favoritism, but I doubt you’re being beaten by any of the punks out there.”

  “Thanks-” Liv starts, her words cut off as George raises a finger as he makes a shushing noise. Liv’s nose scrunches in confusion, her attention focusing back onto George.

  “Don’t go and get a big head, you still have another test coming up.” He says, trying to look serious; unfortunately, his weathered face is still painted with a huge grin that belies his true emotion. “That test is gonna last a whole hell of a lot longer than the strength test. Do poorly, and thats gonna reflect on your cumulative score.”

  Liv nods, processing his words. She can still remember the power that had coursed through her veins, and she was in the middle of what she could only assume as the punishment for such power. She remembers her boss talking about some fundamental law of the universe about exchange, but its contents elude her. She knows one thing for certain. This? Not worth it. Whatever her boss did? Not a fan. Would she be thanking them? Probably. While she was in pain, a pragmatic side of her could see the good that came from it. She doubts her own strength could have done what she had done in that test. Could she have? She’s never done those exercises before, so she could have the capability-.

  “You there?” George asks, his fingers snapping in her face as Liv blinks back to reality, her endless thoughts halting. An embarrassed flush creeps across her bronze skin as she nods, waiting for him to speak. He chuckles to himself, readying himself to speak.

  “Well, I think it’s best I start talking about your options going forward." He starts, dramatically clearing his throat. "See… Very few people actually got to finish in house, which is a really, really big problem. Usually, we pit the recruits against each other to see how they fair in one on ones against each other, but we don’t have the numbers right now since you..." He gestures to her, the message loud and clear. "Yeah. The recruits aren’t gonna be back in time for testing to be completed. That means plans are changing.” He says, his finger pointing to the wall, gesturing vaguely as speaks. “For them? They’re going full speed ahead, just with a different overseer.” He explains before pointing his finger directly at her. “For you unlucky lot? It means I get to get creative. The original test is a nepo lot so the big wigs who prop this place up can brag about their kids having high marks while squandering the potential few who actually have a chance in this place. Lucky for me, you came along and created an opening for me to make a special test for a special case. You and the people who went before you get to do my test under my rules.” He says, cackling evilly as does. His sunken eyes glimmer with joy as he reaches out, giving her a shake of approval. “So I just gotta say… Thank you."

  “You reckon you couldn’t give me a lil advantage?” She inquires half seriously, not expecting anything fruitful to come from the request. While she didn't understand the word "nepo", she could piece enough of a general understanding together.

  “Hell no!” He exclaims, his smile never faltering. “Why would I squander this chance to get a fair test by helping your sorry ass? Equal opportunity, kid!”

  Liv expected as much, a chuckle bubbling from her chest. That chuckle evolves into a full on dry cough, her chest heaving as she does. Her muscles tense, her body seizing with every body shaking cough.

  “Where’s my boss?” She rasps in between crunchy coughs, her back lifting off the bed as flecks of blood fly from her parched throat. George winces, rising from his seated position with a start, a grunt escaping his haggard mouth.

  “Your weapon? Took it to your room while you were out. Assumed you’d want it safe and unstolen.” He says, worried about lacing his voice. “You need some water, kid? You sound… Crunchy.”

  “That’d be peachy.” Liv says, trying her legs. They were feeling stronger than when she awoke, but not enough to stand on. She groans, pushing herself up with a start, her arms screaming in protest. George nods, walking backward toward the door.

  “Makes sense, you’ve been out for a day n’ a half. Guess thats what happens when you have four times the regular amount of adrenaline in your body." He comments casually, a hum escaping his mouth. "Don’t move, I’ll get you some water.” He says quickly before sprinting out of the room, his words hanging in the air.

  Liv’s eyes bug out at the revelation. What the hell did he mean by a “day n’ a half”? She’s been asleep for a full day? What the hell did he mean "four times times the regular amount of adrenaline"? That would explain the parched throat and headache and spasms, she was lucky her heart didn't explode!

  She tries to stand once more, but her muscles give out halfway up, her body slumping back down to the rough cot below.

  “Well… Reckon I’m stayin’ here.” She mutters softly, looking at the lights in the ceiling, counting the seconds as they tick by. She waits, and waits, and waits. She continues to wait for god knows how long, periodically descending into a manic coughing fit. After what felt like an eternity of hell, George finally returns with a massive pitcher of water, sweat beading down his wispy brows as he walks over, holding the pitcher triumphantly.

  “Here you go, kid. Drink up!” He says, placing it in her lap. Her hands snake out, her fingers wrapping around it as she tries to lift. Her muscles strain, barely functioning as her face goes beat red with effort. She grunts as she finally gets it up, placing it to her lips. She gulps once: twice, thrice, and an extra fourth before she comes back up for air, over half the pitcher drained. Her horrid cotton mouth vanishes, her throat moistening up as she sighs with relief, exhaustion washing over her like a blanket. She manages to get a small thanks out before she passes out, the pitcher of water clattering to the ground, spilling its contents on the floor.

  George looks on, clearly amused as she passes out. He turns heel, walking out the room, his mind brewing with ideas. The test wasn’t going to be easy, and he was going to make sure of it as he closes the door, just a hint of light creeping through the crack of the door as Liv begins to snore loudly.

  She would need rest. Tomorrow was a new day, and he would make sure it'd be a rough day too.