First day at a gym

The gym room buzzed with energy as soldiers filled the vast space, each one gearing up for their daily training session. Hundreds of them, all assigned to different tasks by the omnipresent system, were scattered around the room, each consumed by their individual exercises. The training regimen was strict—focused, targeted, and relentless.

As Jack made his way through the crowd, trying to find his assigned equipment, his system's voice echoed in his mind.

The system's directive was clear, and Jack's stomach churned at the thought of it. The reward for completing the task was enticing:

But the consequence of failure was equally daunting:

Jack couldn't help but chuckle, though the thought of missing lunch didn't bother him too much. He had enjoyed a hearty meal before heading out to the gym, but he wanted to prove something to himself. He knew that this training wasn't just about avoiding punishment—it was about getting stronger, preparing for what lay ahead. The looming war was always at the back of his mind, and Jack wasn't about to leave himself unprepared.

As Jack navigated through the packed gym, Elisa, his fellow soldier, suddenly appeared beside him.

"Hey, Jack. Didn't even bother to look for me," Elisa teased, nudging him on the shoulder.

Jack glanced over at her, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry, Elisa. I didn't even realize you were here."

"Such a bad friend," she grinned, giving him a playful shove.

Jack chuckled. "I guess I can be."

Before he could add anything else, an announcement boomed through the gym's speakers, demanding all soldiers to begin their training.

"We'll talk later, Jack. Let me start my workout," Elisa said, walking off toward another part of the gym. Jack nodded, still focused on finding the treadmill.

The crowd had thinned out somewhat, and Jack quickly realized that the gym was divided into different rooms, each dedicated to a specific type of equipment. After a few moments, he spotted the treadmill room, his destination.

He entered, looking around at the soldiers already immersed in their workouts. There was only one treadmill left, and Jack didn't hesitate. He walked over, hopped onto the machine, and began his run.

The moment he started, the treadmill's speed began to increase gradually, a steady rise that pushed Jack harder and harder. His system activated a timer on the screen, showing him the countdown as he tried to keep pace.

It didn't take long before Jack felt his legs burning. The pace wasn't unbearable, but he could already feel the strain. Two minutes into his run, exhaustion crept in. He could feel his body begging him to stop, to take a break. But that wasn't an option.

Not because he was worried about the punishment, but because Jack understood that every minute of training was a step closer to the strength he needed. Every drop of sweat, every aching muscle, would pay off when the real battles began. The war that loomed on the horizon couldn't be fought by the weak.

The clock ticked down, and Jack gritted his teeth. The time displayed on the screen was moving slowly, painfully. It felt like he had been running forever. He focused on the countdown, telling himself that it would all be over soon.

"Just thirty seconds more," Jack muttered to himself, though the words did little to ease the burning in his legs. He was struggling now, his body screaming for rest.

Ten seconds left. His body was on the verge of collapse, but Jack refused to give in. He had come too far to quit. With one final, desperate push, he kept his feet moving.

"Just ten seconds. Come on!" Jack shouted, though his voice was hoarse and strained. Sweat poured down his face, but he powered through. The seconds ticked by, and finally, the five-minute timer went off.

Jack stumbled off the treadmill, breathing heavily. His legs felt like jelly, and every muscle in his body screamed in protest. He grabbed a towel from the rack behind him, wiping the sweat from his face. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, and for a brief moment, Jack felt a pang of shame. He had shouted out in exhaustion during the last few seconds of his run, and now he was aware that everyone in the room was watching him. The stares burned into his skin.

He turned his back to the others, trying to ignore their attention as he wiped the sweat off his body. It was his first time pushing himself this hard, and it felt like a personal victory, even if he didn't quite have the energy to savor it.

The system's message flashed across his screen, and Jack sighed in relief. He stumbled toward the mini-fridge nearby, grabbed a bottle of water, and took several long gulps. His heart pounded in his chest, refusing to slow down. He found a bench and collapsed into it, trying to let his body recover from the grueling workout.

"Hey, Jack. You survived the treadmill," a voice said from beside him. Jack glanced up to find Ryan, a fellow soldier, standing next to him with a grin.

"Yeah, just barely," Jack replied, still panting.

Ryan chuckled as he sat down beside Jack. "You know, for the first two weeks when I joined this faction, I couldn't get past the treadmill workout. I nearly gave up every single time. It's tough, man."

Jack blinked, surprised. He looked at Ryan's stats, which appeared on his system interface:

Jack raised an eyebrow. Ryan didn't look like much, but here he was, offering advice.

Ryan seemed to read Jack's thoughts. "Yeah, I know it's hard to believe, but I wasn't always like this. The treadmill was a killer. But after a while, it gets easier. You just have to push through the pain. Trust me."

Jack nodded. He didn't respond immediately, but the words lingered in his mind. If Ryan could make it, then so could he.

Before Jack could say anything further, his system chimed again.

Groaning, Jack stood up. The last thing he wanted was another round on the treadmill, but he knew he had no choice. With his determination renewed, he walked over to the dumbbell station and picked up a pair of 5kg weights.

The task was simple: 20 repetitions per arm. But even with such a modest weight, Jack could already feel the challenge. The system tracked his progress, showing the remaining number of turns. His muscles screamed in protest with each lift, but Jack gritted his teeth and pushed through. He could feel the eyes of the other soldiers on him, but he didn't care. All that mattered was completing the task.

At turn 16, his arm trembled, the dumbbell feeling heavier with every second. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He was nearing the end, but his strength was running out.

"One... two... three..." Jack grunted as he counted the final repetitions. The burn in his arms was unbearable, but he refused to stop. Not this time.

"Five!" With one final, desperate push, Jack completed the last turn, slamming the dumbbell down onto the floor with a loud thud. He collapsed onto the nearby bench, utterly exhausted.

The murmurs of the soldiers around him reached his ears, but Jack couldn't care less. They could say whatever they wanted. He had made it through.

"Such a weak boy," someone scoffed from across the room, but Jack didn't even glance up. In that moment, he didn't need anyone's validation. He had done it for himself. And that was enough.

As his system flashed with the completion of the task, Jack let his body relax, knowing that the next workout would come soon enough. He just had to keep pushing. Because this wasn't the end. It was only the beginning.