From Sir Gabriel: This chapter was inspired a lot by a scene in the novels. Just giving credit to other authors when credit is due. Also, be sure to keep track of the dates of each chapter.

1500 Hours, June 17, 2551 (Military Calendar)/ Epsilon Eridani System, Reach Military Complex Three,

Planet Reach

Sylvain stretched out every single muscle in his body before he commenced his exercise routines. The entire gym was empty as it always was. It was almost as if the gym had been installed personally for him. But then again, he was the only Spartan-III.

After two hundred push-ups, sit-ups, deep squat thrusts, and chin-ups, he finally felt warmed up. Months ago, after such strenuous activities, he would be susceptible to losing consciousness over exhaustion. Those muscle enhancement augmentations certainly do pull their weight, he thought.

He approached the body sized punching bag as it hung lazily from the ceiling, and set it's weight to two hundred pounds; the weight of an average human being. Sylvain pulled his right clenched fist back, tensed his arm and hand muscles, and pounded the bag with a full-knuckle forward lunging punch.

The bag pitched forward from his strike, almost knocking over a treadmill behind it. Something was wrong with its current setting. Sylvain caught it with one hand on its forward swing toward him, and allowed it to hang as it did before. He stepped to the weight-setting console, and increased the punching bag to four hundred pounds, the statistical weight of a standard Covenant Elite.

He gave it another testing punch, and again, it swung a little too far for his normal strength. The chains that suspended it rattled, disturbed again by the much more powerful smack.

Was the weight setting console malfunctioning? He gave it a quick check, and indeed, it was set to four hundred pounds even.

After switching the weight to six hundred and fifty pounds, he gave it another test punch, using the same amount of force that he had for the last two tests.

The bag teetered forward just a little before returning to its idle hanging position. That was about right, now.

With the bag calibrated to the correct setting, Sylvain let loose a flurry of lightning-fast punches and kicks for a full forty-five minutes, not stopping or slowing down for a break at all.

After that, he stepped up to the treadmill, and set the speed to twenty KMPH. He ran as fast as he could, but he nearly fell off over the front handles. He increased the speed to forty KMPH, but it was still way too slow. He knocked it up to sixty-five. That felt about right. He jogged for an hour and a half before stopping.

Sylvain used every machine he could fit time in for: weight lifting, stair climbing, long dot drills, and bench pressing. But every machine required its settings to be increased. It seemed that everything in the gym was broken.

He left the gym, confused. Why was everything like that? Because of the augmentations?

The firing range was next on his daily agenda. He had a lot more activities of training left to go before he could call it day. Training was a duty that he had to perform, and he would always perform his duties.

But he was also feeling a lot better, and he was thinking a lot better about himself. That alone made his day, his week, and his year.

The Covenant better be ready, he thought, because Sylvain Reno is coming back!