Chapter 1 – Bull's-Eye

Brodrin Locke stared into the water, letting a single finger kiss the surface. Then he brought it up again to make a tiny ripple. The liquid echoes glinted off the sunlight.

Sometimes, he'd find himself doing this for several minutes at a time, but today he only had a few more seconds before training would begin. Still, a little time was better than none. The water calmed him for some reason. It looked smooth and flawless, without a visible speck of imperfection.

Miniature rivers of water, known as the Canals, covered the entire ground floor of the building's structure. Massive pillars of varying size stood scattered across the area, supporting the upper levels that made up District 2 Academy.

Brodrin grimaced as the monotone, dull buzz echoed through every crevice of the school. It only lasted exactly three seconds, but after hearing it day after day, it always felt longer than that. And so he slowly got to his feet, still keeping his eyes on the shallow water.

The Canals went in all directions, making rigid L-shaped turns when necessary. They were imbedded three feet deep into the marble floors, which had a light blue tint to them. Each canal spanned five feet in width and the dimensions for each were exactly identical.

Brodrin walked down one of the pale-grey pathways towards the two exceptionally large elevators that rested in the center of the academy. They were the main way anyone got around. So, as per usual, there was a large group of students crowding around the doors.

The pathways allowed the students to traverse across the Canals with ease, as the walkways often simply ran straight through the narrow bodies of water, with miniature bridges that slightly looped upwards and over the liquid.

When he reached the looming crowd of students waiting to enter the elevators, he didn't hesitate in making his way to the front. "Move," he said to one younger boy. "Are you trying to make it a bad day for yourself?"

Most of these students were younger than him, but he could have cared less as to how old they were. He was 18, and so months away from graduating. Though his definition of graduation would be very different from most.

Brodrin made it to the front just as the elevator doors opened. He got in first, leaning on the wall. The other students waited until it was obvious that Brodrin had gotten comfortable. Then everyone else huddled in, making a point to leave a bit of space around him. Another day of training waited at the top, and another day would soon be out of the way.

With a deafening thud, the bottom of Brodrin's foot collided with his opponent's chest. The fighter hit the mat hard.

Brodrin didn't bother with another attack. The guy was down, and he wasn't getting up quickly. Other careers surrounded the two, all paired in groups and sparring with padded gloves and shin guards. Noises of physical exertion and bodies hitting the blue mats filled the massive hall.

Today was a hand-to-hand day. It wasn't his favorite, but he knew it to be crucial. They'd already gone through the disarming exercises, as well as the submission techniques. Now it was on to the sparring, which he didn't mind. Putting these brats on their asses never gets old, he thought to himself.

"Walk it off there bud," he said.

Still on the ground, the other fighter shot back, "Screw you Brodrin!"

"Calm down Amaren. Fighting without a cool head will just increase the chance that yours will get cracked open," said a voice from behind Brodrin.

Allexin Black strode up to the downed fighter. He threw out a hand to help him up. This was Allexin's first year as Head Trainer for the District 2 careers. "You okay?" he asked.

"I'm good." He maneuvered around Allexin so that he was facing Brodrin again. "Let's go again," he said through gritted teeth.

"I like the can-do attitude," he said with a smirk.

"This time keep your hands out a bit more." Allexin put a hand on Amaren's shoulder. "They are too close to your body right now. Even if you deflect the blow, it's still landing." Amaren nodded without breaking eye contact with his still-smirking opponent.

Brodrin did an unnecessary stretch as Amaren stalked forward with his fists up, appearing lethal.

The two men in white coats gently rolled the stretcher that carried Amaren out of the training hall. His eyes were closed, and he was covering his face with one arm.

Brodrin watched with his arms crossed for a bit before heading over to a punching bag in one of the corners of the massive hall. His punches and kicks remained even and controlled as the bag swayed from the blows.

"Proud of yourself?" Allexin stood behind him, likely analyzing Brodrin's technique and form.

"If he can't shrug off a concussion before the Emulate, than he should just stay home." His attacks began to increase in power and speed.

"Do you enjoy making enemies?" he asked.

"Do you really care about Amaren that much?" he asked in between soft grunts. "I'll let you in on a little secret, he's a prick."

"It's not Amaren that's my concern. From where I'm standing that bull's-eye on your back is getting bigger and bigger. Eventually it's going to cost you."

"Oh I bet."

"Alright smartass."

"Later Scruff," he said. Scruff was Allexin's unofficial nickname because he refused to shave. No one else grew out any facial hair in the academy. The students only referred to him as Scruff when talking about him in private, but they never called him that to his face. Disrespectful actions toward any instructional staff member proved quite risky.

"Your hips aren't twisting enough when you kick with your left," Allexin said as he left Brodrin to his battle with the inanimate object.

Brodrin paused for a second steadying the bag, trying to ignore the Head Trainer's comment. The guy knew how to get into Brodrin's head, which aggravated him greatly. He then started to increase the number of kicks with his left leg.

The Emulate was in just a few days, and there was no room for error.