NOVEL SIMPLE CHAPTER 4: The Arena
Atlas stepped into the gym, the weight of his bag over his shoulder a reassuring reminder of his mission. The familiar scent of sweat, metal, and leather filled the air, a comforting backdrop to his new resolve. The clanking of metal against metal, a new addition to his sensory landscape, echoed in the space. It was a sign of the advanced training he sought—far from the basic fitness routines he had once known.
He moved with purpose through the sprawling maze of equipment and training areas. The gym was a testament to hard work and discipline, and Atlas was determined to fit right in. *Is there anything more familiar than the sounds and smells of a gym?*
Today, it was more than just a place to exercise; it was his battlefield of preparation. *If the gym were a fruit, it’d definitely be a durian—strong and unmistakable, and stinky.*
In the locker room, Atlas changed quickly, his movements efficient and focused. Emerging from the locker room, he spotted Yochanan—a tall, older German man with a solid build, wearing sports goggles that gave him a distinctively goofy look. Yochanan stood in the middle of the training area, a sword and shield in hand, the light reflecting off the metal.
“Hi, I’m Yochanan,” the trainer said, his voice carrying a slight accent as he raised his weapon in a friendly gesture.
“Hey,” Atlas replied, his tone casual, though his mind was already assessing the man before him. *I need to see if this guy can push me to the level I need to be.*
“So, what are you looking to work on?” Yochanan asked, studying Atlas’s posture and the way he carried himself with a keen eye.
“Well, I’m looking to stay in shape and keep my reflexes sharp,” Atlas said, his voice steady, but with a hint of something more behind his words. *It’s not just about staying in shape—it's about preparing for what’s coming.*
Yochanan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, you used to fight?”
Atlas chuckled, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
*Like I used to fight… as in yesterday and every day for the last year.*
Yochanan smiled, a mixture of curiosity and skepticism in his expression. “Alright then, let’s get into the arena and see what you’ve got. I’ll show you what I can do.”
Atlas glanced at the sword Yochanan held, his gaze critical. “That sword looks neat. Is it steel? It doesn’t look quite right.”
Yochanan nodded, a slight grin on his face. “It’s SFB tech. They tried using steel at first, but it wasn’t practical for televised fights or real life. Steel behaves differently than other materials. Sharp edges actually bind against other sharp edges... It’s a weird sensation, especially with sharp swords. So these use are a new carbon fibre combined with an electronic simulator.”
Atlas twirled the SFB sword in his hand, feeling its weight and balance. “Doesn’t feel quite right, but hey, it’s not life and death, right?”
*Well, it’s better than nothing, and probably the best I can find unless I stumble into some sort of illegal deathmatch arena. I’m definitely staying away from that; getting portaled with one arm would be a disaster.*
They both stepped into the ring—a metal-fenced, padded area marked with white lines. Overhead lights cast stark shadows that danced with each movement. Yochanan eyed Atlas with a mixture of curiosity and doubt. Most of his clients were enthusiasts, people who loved the idea of sword fighting but lacked real experience. They came and went, often influenced by the latest trends.
But Atlas was different. There was a presence about him, an aura of unspoken experience. *I wonder how good this guy really is. He doesn’t look like your typical gym-goer. And if he's not, why is he here?*
Atlas grabbed two SFB swords, holding them with a confidence that made Yochanan pause. “Ready?” Atlas asked, his voice calm and composed.
Yochanan nodded, raising his own SFB sword and shield. “Let’s go.”
The match began with Yochanan advancing cautiously, his sword slicing through the air with practiced ease. Atlas met him with smooth, controlled movements. From the very first clash of swords, Yochanan felt the difference—Atlas’s strikes were quick, powerful, and precise. Each attack was met with effortless blocks and counters, as if Atlas could anticipate every move.
Yochanan pressed harder, launching a series of aggressive strikes to test Atlas’s limits. But Atlas responded with fluid grace, sidestepping and deflecting blows with minimal effort. The SFB swords clacked loudly as they collided, the sound echoing through the gym, but Atlas’s responses were always a beat ahead, his timing impeccable.
*Seriously, how good is this guy? And how have I never heard of him before?*
Yochanan tried to catch Atlas off guard with a feint, but Atlas saw it coming. He turned the attack back on Yochanan with a swift riposte, pushing the older man back and forcing him to regroup. The fight continued with Yochanan attempting a combination of high and low strikes, hoping to overwhelm Atlas with speed and strength.
But Atlas was in his element, moving with a rhythm that seemed almost choreographed. His movements were a dance of precision and power, each strike and block flowing seamlessly into the next. He countered Yochanan’s attacks with controlled, fluid motions, gradually wearing down the older man’s defenses.
With a final, decisive move, Atlas disarmed Yochanan with a clean strike. Yochanan’s sword flew from his hand, clattering to the ground as he stumbled back, his shield slipping from his grasp. Atlas lowered his swords, his breathing steady and even, not a drop of sweat on his brow.
“Good match,” Atlas said, extending a hand to Yochanan.
Yochanan took it, pulling himself up with a mixture of surprise and admiration. “Damn, you’re good. I’ve trained for over 40 years, and I haven’t seen anyone handle a fight like that in a long time.”
Atlas smiled, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Thanks. I just want to stay sharp.”
*Yeah, it wasn’t that hard to get good when not being good meant becoming dead.*
Yochanan nodded, clearly impressed. “Well, if you’re looking to stay in shape and sharpen those reflexes, you’ve got the right idea. Let’s work together and make sure you’re ready for whatever comes next.”
As Yochanan watched Atlas leave, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this man than met the eye. The level of skill displayed was unexpected, and the calm demeanor with which Atlas handled the fight hinted at a deeper story. *This guy is not just training for fun. He’s preparing for something significant. I need to find out more about his background and what drives him. This could turn out to be one of the most interesting challenges of my career.*
Atlas and Yochanan shook hands, both acknowledging the mutual respect forged in their brief but intense encounter. The fight had been more than just a test of skill; it was a testament to Atlas’s experience and preparation, and Yochanan knew he was in for an intriguing journey with this new trainee.