TRIGGER WARNING: There may be some dialogue that comes off as having transphobic or racist undertones. However, this is not meant to disparage or send hate but to show that even in an advanced society that may be better educated, social issues can and still will arise that leads to ignorance or lack of empathy. I hope to eventually show readers how gaining a level of empathy helps with personal growth and treating othering with respect and dignity 

CHAPTER ELEVEN: PLAY STUPID GAMES, WIN STUPID PRIZES

I stepped behind the Superiōrem cadre with Dae-Seong in tow. Silence divided the space between us. The cadre member hadn’t spoken a word since breaking up our brawl. I got curious, wondering where they might take us. My stomach rumbled louder with every step I took as hunger pains set in. Which didn’t help my disoriented vision. I wanted to know where exactly they were leading us while forcing myself to think of the most respectable way I could draw his attention without pissing him off any further. I was two strikes in. I didn’t need or want a third. 

“Excuse me, um cadre-sir. Where exactly is it you’re taking us?” I finally spoke up.

I could see Dae-Seong roll his eyes from the corner of my peripheral, but I didn’t care. He could think the world about himself if he wanted. It wasn’t like he was going to be the one brave enough to ask. Silence continued to echo in the hall as I assumed the cadre had heard my question and ignored, thinking it too stupid of a question to bother answering. 

“Chow hall. We need to get some food in your bodies to jump start the hyper-regeneration process.” The cadre said.

“The hyper-regen-what?” I asked, confused at the last few words as I took a couple more strides to keep pace.

“The hyper-regeneration process, Recruit SSM-13. Maybe if you and your fellow battle-buddies hadn’t pulled that dumbass shit you did earlier, you would’ve been briefed on it along with your training schedule that the rest of the recruits already received by now.” 

Great, another asshole. I must be a latrine because I’m surrounded by them. 

“I apologize si—.” I said.

“My name isn’t ‘Sir,’ I actually work for a living. You will refer to me as either Sergeant LR-007 or Sergeant Mendoza. Tracking?” 

“Yes, Sergeant Mendoza. Sor—.” I apologized.

“Stop fucking apologizing, you a masochist or something? Hurry up and say what you need to say. I don’t need you running around like a chicken with their head chopped off. They have assigned me as Delta team, team leader, your team leader. I just wish I knew what sin I committed to be responsible for you little fucktards for the next six months. Do me a favor and let’s try to make this quick and painless. Roger?” Sergeant Mendoza stated more than asked without turning to face me once.

“Roger Sergeant Mendoza.” I said, forced to bite my tongue while I listened to Dae-Seong’s punk ass laugh off to the side. “Can you please explain everything we’ll need to know?”

I can’t wait for the day I can punch this motherfucker in the mouth and shut him up.

“Alright, listen up because I’m going to say this just one time and I don’t feel like repeating myself. Recruit. First off, the hyper-regeneration process is exactly what it sounds like, with the thousands of enhancements done to your body. The hyper-regeneration process is the ability you now have to heal from damn near any minor wound and, with enough time, moderate to major wounds if the proper combat first-aid is done. But all of that is contingent on the amount of calories you’ve stored in your body, which you can track with your life band that has integrated with your chimera body armor. Between the two rows you can see how many calories you’ve stored and your body’s daily maximum by saying ‘power cell,’ clearly into your life-band.” Sergeant Mendoza said.

Power cell? Who came up with this naming system? I thought, raising my band to my face.

“Power cell.” I said.

In short, work, my life-band booted up as the glass bead on it lit up and displayed a column followed by a number.

POWER CELL: 2757/15780 CALORIES

Shit. Don’t humans only need like two thousand in a day? I mean, I guess it makes sense with how much meat I ate in that cell over a week.

“If you want a point of reference for how much you’d have to eat in a day, a two-ton great white shark that swims twenty-four fucking seven needs about sixteen to seventeen thousand calories daily to sustain itself. That’s sixty-five pounds of pure whale blubber. I suggest you tread carefully with what activities you decide to waste energy on. It’s exactly why, directly after the enhancement process, they put recruits through the food therapy training.” 

Wow. That makes sense. I hope I just don’t have to ever get into some sick ass cannibalism kink if my food ever runs low. 

“So when do we officially start training Sergeant Mendoza?” Dae-Seong cut in.

“Tomorrow, but you’ll be issued your M-32 rifles tonight. You will keep your rifle on your person at all times, every second of the day. In class, while you eat, while you sleep, even while you’re taking a shit. There’ll be severe consequences for those that lose or misplace their rifles in case you think this is a fucking game. You’re Superiōrem now. Act like it.” 

Sergeant Mendoza led us to a set of doors that said Chow Hall.

“Yes, Sergeant.” Dae-Seong and I responded.

“I will brief Delta team tomorrow at zero-six hundred tomorrow morning. The rest of your team will be seated at the table marked with the letter ‘D.’. Neither of you ass-hats better oversleep. Remember, we’re here to train the best of the best. We will leave the rest behind. Prepare to be ranked on your combat and tactical capabilities, so do your best to not end up at the bottom of the fucking barrel. I don’t like being embarrassed. Dismissed.” Sergeant Mendoza said as he sauntered off, leaving us in front of the Chow Hall doors.

I stared at the giant set of doors that stood proudly in front of us. My heart was pounding in my chest, forced to realize that I had to keep up my persona in front of everyone. The remaining members of my team would be amongst the group of thirty to forty and I had no way of knowing what kind of nasty ass personalities they might have.

“Isn’t this a sight? First time I’ve ever seen a Noblesse, be scared to show off in front of a crowd.” Dae-Seong said, stepping towards the retinal scanner on the right side of the wall.

Be the bigger person. Be the bigger person. Be the big—.

“You better sleep with one eye open.” I said, as the doors jutted open, unable to hide my contempt.

“And force myself to see your shit-stained face while I’m getting my beauty sleep? No, thank you. I’d rather not.”

###

I separated from Dae-Seong in an attempt to save my sanity. I grabbed a tray in hand while I set off to search for my team’s table. My eyes flitted around the room, looking for the letter that would lead me to my team. Struggling to make out the details with my doubled vision as I looked past dozens of recruits of different shades and colors. My eyes fell on one at the other side of the hall, accompanied by two other recruits that were doing their best to ignore him while the recruit waved their hand in the air rather energetically. I didn’t know who it was at first until they spoke.

“Hey shit-stain, we’re over here.” Dae-Seong said from across the chow hall.

Imma kill him. I chanted in my head, practically imagining myself stomping out the shit-eating grin Dae-Seong was making. I ignored my recruits that raised their heads to look at the spectacle while others minded their own business. More concerned with getting to know the individuals on their team rather than the issues that others might have. 

“Thanks for the heads-up lady-boy.” I said, even louder for everyone else to hear.

I glided across the hall, coming up to the table, maintaining eye contact with my arch-nemesis. I hadn’t bothered to look at the rest of the people seated at the table as I slammed my tray down next to Dae-Seong.

“Are you two going to be like this the entire time we’re here or can we come together to work as a team, because all this toxic masculinity in the air is killing me.” A female said, lifting up her head from her plate to speak to me. “Oh great. It’s my favorite stalker.”

I peeled my eyes away from Dae-Seong as I saw her subtle motions from the corner of my peripherals. Turning to see Recruit VV-06, the same captivating girl that had caught my eye from the initial in-processing. The bandage that was originally wrapped around her neck was nowhere to be found. In its place, they stamped a large gold and black wasp tattoo on her windpipe. She pulled her hair back into a long ponytail, bringing forth the gentle features of her face that mismatched with the fierce energy she gave off. I watched for a brief second as she played with the food on her tray with a fork. Once again, taking in the sight of her as I thanked every god or goddess that existed for putting me on the same team as her. On one hand, she looks hotter than she did before, now that I can see that tattoo on her neck. On the other hand, she looks ready to shank me in the face with that dull ass fork. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, though. It would be kind of sexy, right? I let out a brief sigh as I devoured the pile of raw meat on my plate, stuffing my cheeks with the food.

“I’m sure, pretty boy, and I can work something out. Neither of us wants to wash out. It’s nice seeing you again, by the way. I told you we’d meet again soon VV-06. Maybe you’ll listen to me next time I tell you something.” I said.

Recruit VV-06 snorted, giving me a curt smile. I couldn’t tell if she was amused or disgusted. I just hoped it was the first rather than the latter.

“In your fucking dreams SSM-13.” Recruit VV-06 scoffed, her smile looking even prettier as she mocked me.