Ren awoke brighter and earlier yet the following day. He stretched, cleaned his leg, finished a sketch, and was off to the training room before Viktor even arrived at his room. He sped down the hallway at his top speed, which was growing faster day by day, leaving behind his crutch and Mary with a note to explain where he had gone.
Even with his head start, Ren didn't have to wait long before Viktor joined him in the gym.
"I leave your door unlocked once and you depart before I arrive," Viktor stated.
"Don't take it personally," Ren said, "nothing against you or your hospitality, I'm just too excited. I mean, come on, a rocket kick! Do you have any idea how many Zaun kids dream about stuff like this? Except it's real, and I'm going to be learning how to do it."
"Excitement aside," Viktor continued, "I do not approve of you leaving beforehand. However, as long as you send the automaton to me with your note as to you whereabouts, you may leave early to train and exercise. It will save me the time from having to walk to your room only to discover you missing."
Ren's eyes beamed.
"You mean it? That's the nicest thing I think you've done, outside of patching me up and all."
"You are well enough that I do not expect you to harm yourself without a constant watch. Do not disprove me," Viktor said.
"I'll try," Ren replied with a nod and smile.
Viktor nodded in acknowledgement and proceeded with his lesson.
"The thruster in your foot responds to stimuli from the muscles in your upper leg. Under normal conditions, the movements in your leg would not activate the thruster. Clenching your muscles for a span greater than one second will provide the stimuli needed for the thruster to engage. You may have seen this briefly last night during my visit to you. When you became more enraged, you clenched your fists, and your legs, for a brief moment before standing. You had activated the thrusters and your leg propelled itself off the ground for a moment."
"I already did a mini rocket kick? I didn't notice."
"I am a scientist, N-12, I'm trained to pay attention to minute details. You should practice it as well. It will be crucial to your first lesson. You will perform small bursts, such as last night's, one-hundred times. Begin."
"Ugh, mini bursts I can't even feel. I already did one; do I seriously need to do more?"
Viktor responded in an instant. That morning, he had rehearsed a series of responses to questions Ren may pose that day. He knew that if he didn't have a response ready, his subject would waste no time in piling on more questions.
"When we take into account last night's demonstration," Viktor said, "it stands to reason that you wouldn't need as much practice. Adjust your training to perform only ninety-nine bursts."
Ren groaned.
"Control is vital when dealing with explosions. A miscalculation could result in severe consequences. Starting fires, unintended collateral damage, or injury to self. I forbid you to endanger your enhancement. Now you will practice or I will remove the thruster until you are willing to."
"Fine, I got it," Ren grumbled.
He clenched his leg muscles and after a moment, he heard the thrusters begin to hum to life. Pleased that he was able to achieve this with ease, a smug smile slipped onto his face.
This smile was then immediately erased when the sudden release of the thrusters threw him from balance. His arms flailed around like turbine propellers as he regained his balance. Ren's cheeks warmed red as he saw Viktor watching him and knew that under that mask, his eyes were gloating.
"Don't say anything and I won't," Ren stammered as he tried to recover his pride, "I'll just go over here and finish my other 98."
"An agreeable decision," Viktor agreed.
Viktor sat down on a chair as Ren retreated to a solitary corner, and began to record in his oil stained notebook. A few quick notes later, and he was back on his feet directing Mary and Percy to set up crude dummies made from the scraps of broken automatons.
When at last Ren had completed his task, Viktor again turned his attention back to his subject. Not to his surprise, he saw the slightest shine of sweat on Ren's forehead.
"Charge the thrusters for two seconds before release," Viktor said.
Ren nodded and performed the action. Much like before, there was the hum of machinery, the force at release, and the momentary struggle for balance. Unlike before, this struggle was minimal.
"Hah," Ren cheered, "better."
"But not perfect," Viktor replied.
"Let me guess, another hundred?"
"No, practice until you are able to maintain balance at that charge five times in a row. Once you achieve that, continue to a three second charge."
"Yeah, I can do that," Ren nodded almost in disbelief.
Ren immediately got to work before Viktor could change his mind and give him a more regimented work out. Viktor had no intention of doing that though, and he sat down and allowed the automatons to complete the setup while he recorded observations in his notebook.
He tallied the number of times Ren was able to keep balance and the number of times her couldn't and how far between these occasions were. Viktor's surgical eye noted how he lost his balance and how he regained it. Knowing how Ren moved would be critical for calibrating his leg.
Faster than before, Ren completed his exercises and stood sweaty and grinning before Viktor.
"Three seconds, got it, can do it," he said between catching his breath, "now I want to do some kicking."
"I will ensure you are able to defend yourself," Viktor said as he stood, "Follow."
He directed Ren over to the makeshift dummies.
"Kick one," Viktor directed, "but do not use your thruster. I want to observe your form."
"Prepare to be blown away then," Ren boasted.
Strutting up to a dummy, Ren chambered his metal limb before, much to Viktor's surprise, delivering a well formed roundhouse kick.
"How's that," he asked with a swagger.
"Your technique appears practiced. Have you trained before," Viktor responded.
"Trained is too formal a word," Ren answered, "but you don't live on Zaun's streets for too long if you can't fight. I've had to fight off more than one chemmed up thug."
"A believable statement. Now fending off miscreants will be easier. Perform a one second charged kick."
Ren's face illuminated like a sunrise over Mt. Targon. He pulled his leg into a chamber, angled it towards the dummy's side, felt the thrusters rev up, and released. His eyes widened as the marvel of how fast his foot moved and at the sizeable dent that was left in the dummy.
"No way. That was wicked! Did you see that, Viktor? Sump's pits, nobody would want to mess with me if they could see this," cheered Ren.
"A well-executed kick," Viktor agreed, "but it is not enough to know how to kick, but where to strike your enemies."
"Oh, cheap shots. Crystal."
Ren revved up his leg again and slammed it into the dummy's knee.
"That would knock em' down."
He made another kick to where the kidneys would be.
"That spot hurts."
Then he delivered a final, rocket powered scoop kick to the groin.
"And if all else fails, that works. Or you could always start your fights with that. Whichever."
Viktor chuckled softly after a momentary silence.
"I would like to have had a golem for you to spar. With minor modifications it is likely that you would be able contend with one."
"Only contend," Ren scoffed, "come on, you underestimate me. Watch this."
Viktor observed and as he did, his fingers frantically recorded what he saw. If before he believed that Ren's talent was ceaseless chatter, he now firmly believed that destruction was his true talent. Ren appeared to know every place to hit a person and every kick to do it with. Reverse roundhouse kicks to the ribs, crescent kicks to the shoulder, sidekicks to the chest; he performed them all. In a matter of moments the dummy was dented on all sides.
"And now for the finale," Ren declared.
He ran up to the dummy and stretched his limb as far as he could to deliver a rocket roundhouse to the head. Metal on metal clanged like a gong as both Ren and his opponent tumbled to the floor. He lay there panting before bursting into laughter.
"I've missed that," he chuckled, "haven't had a workout like that since I last saw Ekko. Bugger probably thinks I'm dead. Oh, but never mind that, that felt incredible."
He pulled himself back to a sitting position and, with a big grim stretched across his face, turned to Viktor and said "thanks."
"Your gratitude is appreciated but not needed," Viktor responded, "progress is its own reward."
"Truly? You never want anything in return for what you do? I bet I could think of something."
"You are welcomed to think as long as it does not interfere with my work with you."
"Hey, I've got rocket kicks now. I don't think anything could keep me from wanting to practice them for too long. I can promise you that."
