Chapter 17: 17 SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK
Tuesday Morning 0730, 2274. The Box, Fort Amazonia….
Rex didn't even remember laying down and going to bed. He just knew waking up three hours later after the day he had was a horrible feeling. It took everything in him not to vomit from the sleep deprivation induced nausea.
He hit the showers hard with the little time he was given. He hid behind the steam clouds as he scrubbed away his scabs, revealing the perfect bronze skin beneath. He swayed in exhaustion as he watched the bits of old blood sink down the drain.
In the reflective tiles on the shower walls, he came face to face with his new face for the first time. He was too tired for the change to wake him, per se, but he was shocked. He maintained his bronze skin and sharp features, but they'd grown aggravated in his transformation into a Werepanther. His jaw was thicker along with his neck— making his face wider— more masculine. His nose was longer. His ears were sharper— nearly elven. And he looked about three years older than he once did. That or the stubble was doing a lot of heavy lifting.
All the change, and he hadn't even gotten to processing the rest of his body.
He looked down at his waist and nearly g—
"Hey."
Rex looked up and found Syrus standing over him.
"Dude, personal space?" Rex said.
"Take this." Syrus handed him what looked like a silver ketchup packet.
"Drug deals are usually less—"
"It's not a drug deal. Well, not that kind." Syrus explained as he ran a hand through his wet hair.
It was then that Rex realized he was covered in stitch marks from the neck down. Like he'd had a million surgeries before breakfast.
"Take it."
"No."
"Are you always this defiant? I'm offering help." Syrus explained, "It's energel—"
Rex's impoverished mind tuned out the rest of what he said as he eyed the packaged substance. He'd read news fronts and billboards about the potent supplement. Stories of athletes taking the energizing gel and going on to hit career highs or develop Physicalities— which were basically low grade Inheritence Abilities with no side effects. One packet costed a fortune. At least from Rex's point of view. And the rest of the general public where he was from.
Rex side eyed Syrus, "You aren't doing this for me."
Syrus nodded, "Of course not. I'm doing it for me."
"So I'm fit and ready to spar you."
"Yes."
"But I refused."
"What's the point if you will eventually anyway."
"To maintain my spinal integrity." Rex turned the shower off and headed out. "Thanks for the offer but I have other goals for the day."
Tyson nodded a good morning to him with a soap bar on top of his head. Rex nodded back.
Syrus followed after him.
Rex was already looking at his index finger claw. The reflective surface showed Syrus grabbing him and putting him in a strangle hold with glowing wires.
In a flash, he dropped low and tried to leg sweep the lanky recruit.
Syrus was quick and jumped over his leg.
He expected to see Syrus land and go on the offensive but he remained up above ground, crawling on a web of glowing wires like a spider.
Before Rex could find out more about his spider-like Inheritence Ability— or inherent nakedness, he charged his flames and thickened the steam in the showers to hide him as he crawled away.
"Awe dude— I didn't ask for a sauna!" Someone yelled in the distance.
"Syrus, stop creeping!" Another student yelled and threw a soap bar.
Before he knew it, he was strung up and the other recruits were cutting their showers.
Rex made it to the door when a glowing string wrapped his wrist. It stung like a dozen bee stings.
Before he could react, Victor was grabbing the wire and ripping it in two. With the other end, he yanked Syrus off the webs.
Rex stood in shocked rememberance of Victor's power. His dreaded mane of hair was tied up and hanging down his toned back as he pulled Syrus to his feet and stared him down in his towel.
"I am too tired for this. And we're not going to be hazed by the upper-ranks AND have to deal with this elitism bullshit. If you got problems with Rex, you got problems with me— and problems with me are problems with the Fauve Military Guild. Do the math. Walk away, Wolf-Spider." Victor said with orange eyes. Fiery tiger stripes began to stretch across his back.
Syrus's glowing webs dissipated, "If I wasn't politically informed, I'd take you both. But that can wait. I'm an ally, Rex. As soon as you stop swinging blindly and observe the room, you'll realize even though this spider can bite you, it's the flies that carry disease."
"Did he just call me a fly?" Someone asked.
Victor turned to Rex.
"You just signed your family up for something I don't think they'd co-sign." Rex said.
"Oh well. I was under distress." Victor shrugged.
"Duress."
Rex and Victor turned to their left to face the student wrapping himself in a towel.
He was heavyset with fogged up glasses and medium length dark hair.
"What?"
"The correct term is under duress." He repeated.
"Oh. Thanks for the….. spellcheck." Victor said.
"No problem. You'll have enough of those."
"What?" Victor asked.
"Their thoughts are loud. Obvious, even."
Rex and Victor shared a glance at eachother.
"Syrus wasn't wrong. You are surrounded by dangerous elements….. ailments. He may want to…. Bite you, as he said, but it seems others wish to kill you. You both, actually. Not that they can say they want to dismantle the Fauve Family outloud, of course."
Victor raised an eyebrow, "Why would any of them want to kill me? Our families go back generations as allies."
The recruit pushed his glasses further up his face, hiding his eyes from them, "My father always told me to think less and you'll perceive more. It's obvious, Victor. That elitism you spoke of—it's a real thing— a virus, even. Now, think about how it wounds the other Militaru Guild Families to see a boy from the mines across the world suddenly rise to the top."
"It's like what Hunter was rambling about." Rex said mostly to himself.
"About structure and heirarchies, yes." The recruit replied. "Hunter can get a bit manic about the topic— but I guess his overt disdain helped you get to this revelation."
"What revelation?" Victor asked.
"His." The recruit pointed to Rex.
"Revelation is kind of overselling it." Rex said once he realized they both watched him, "It's the same as always. Rich people hate poor people." Then he thought, "And no matter how strong we get, they'll want us dead. They hate what we represent. They'll kill Victor and start a civil war because he was born without a spoon shoved in his face. They'll do me worse. I need to be careful."
"No."
Rex blinked twice in confusion.
"Your revelation wasn't about the rich hating the poor. It was along the lines of the rich hating progression they aren't at the helm of. And how you need to be more careful. Why you specifically? What's special about the Drake-Slayer, Rex of Red-Tree City?"
Rex tried to ignore the sweat beading down his forehead, "You can read minds can't you?" He thought.
The recruit nodded.
A whistle blew in the distance.
"Oh hell, we're late." Victor said.
In a rush they all exited the showers with Rex now trying to remain calm in the face of another disasterous possibility.
Even his mind wasn't safe from exposure.
Unless he did something about it..