NOVEL SIMPLE CHAPTER 9: Isabella’s Arrival
Isabella pulled up on her motorcycle, the deep rumble of the engine echoing off the walls of the downtown buildings. She slid to a stop in front of the Society of Creative Battles, the familiar sign hanging above the door. Shutting off the engine, she swung her leg over the bike, cracking her neck as she stretched. The swords strapped to her back rattled slightly as she moved, and she grabbed the duffel bag from the back of her bike before heading inside.
This was it. The opportunity she’d been waiting for.
Late last night, Isabella had received a call from the gym, inviting her to try out for the new SFB battle team. She didn’t even hesitate. She’d been training at the Society for over a year, honing her skills in the hope that someday, an opportunity like this would come along. And with the SFB gaining traction, it felt like the perfect moment to make her mark. This wasn’t just a chance to prove herself; it was her shot at reaching the top, showcasing all the dedication and sacrifice she’d put in.
Isabella pushed open the door and walked into the gym, her eyes sweeping across the familiar layout. The smell of sweat and metal filled the air, mixed with the faint scent of leather from the training gear. She headed to the locker room to change, noticing a few other women already there, each with the same intense focus in their eyes.
After swapping out her riding gear for workout clothes, Isabella strapped on her swords and made her way into the main gym. The arena area was busier than usual, with the floor cleared and ready for action. In the center stood a tall, scarred Asian man who immediately caught her attention. He exuded a calm confidence that marked him as someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Around him, a group of about 20 people milled about, talking in low voices.
*That must be the new instructor,* Isabella thought to herself as she joined the group, blending in among the other recruits.
Atlas was in the middle of a conversation with John when Alicia stepped up beside him. With a quick nod, she signaled that it was time to start. Atlas gave her a brief smile before addressing the group.
"Alright, everyone," Atlas began, his voice easily carrying across the space, "I know you’re all excited to try out for our battle team, but let me make one thing clear—this is a job. If you’re here to mess around or treat this like another workout, you might as well leave now."
His words hung in the air for a moment, the seriousness of his tone setting the mood. Isabella felt a jolt of excitement run through her. This was exactly what she’d hoped for—a chance to prove herself in a real, high-stakes environment.
Atlas continued, "Some of you have already been planning your own debuts or trying out at other gyms. That’s fine, but here, we’re putting together our own team. Training will be five days a week, and those who make the final cut will be given two-year contracts. If you’re serious about this, then let’s get started."
He paused, letting his words sink in. The room was silent, everyone hanging on his every word. Then, a hand shot up from the crowd. It was a tall, muscular Latino guy, his expression serious. "Hey, Mr. Atlas, I’ve got a job. I can’t just quit, especially if there’s no contract."
Atlas nodded, understanding. "I get it. That’s why the tryout is only one week. If you can spare the time, great. If not, the door’s over there."
The recruit frowned but didn’t move. He seemed to weigh his options before nodding in agreement. Atlas glanced around the group, noticing the expressions of a few others who seemed uncertain. Another woman raised her hand, her voice tinged with concern. "I’ve got two kids. It’s not really possible for me to arrange babysitting and quit my job. I don’t have a husband."
Isabella watched Atlas’s expression carefully. She could tell he was considering the woman’s situation, but there was a hard edge in his eyes. "That’s a choice you’ll have to make," Atlas said firmly. "But remember, this is your only chance for the next two years."
A murmur ran through the group at his words. Two years was a long commitment, but the stakes were clear. The woman bit her lip, clearly torn, but she didn’t press the issue further.
Atlas took a step back, addressing the group as a whole. "We’re preparing for the next season, which is in four months. You’ll be fighting for a season, and then we’ll spend a couple of months recovering and training again. This isn’t a casual commitment—it’s a lifestyle."
John smirked inwardly, thinking about the real reason behind the two-year limit. According to Atlas, that’s when the portals were expected to arrive.
The seriousness of his words seemed to settle over the group like a heavy blanket. Isabella felt the weight of it, but it only fueled her determination. This was what she wanted. What she’d been training for. Every drop of sweat and every aching muscle had led to this moment. She wasn’t going to let it slip away.
"Alright," Atlas said, clapping his hands together, "let’s get started with some basic physical training. I want to see your endurance levels."
He directed them to the treadmills lined up against one wall. As Isabella took her place, she noticed that the treadmills were set at speed seven—a nice, steady pace. The catch, of course, was that they were to run for an hour, fully geared up in SFB-approved battle armor, including helmets.
Isabella strapped on her gear, feeling the familiar weight of her swords against her back. The helmet was a bit cumbersome, but she adjusted quickly, focusing on the task at hand. As the treadmill started, she settled into a rhythm, her breathing steady as she pushed herself to maintain the pace.
Around her, the other recruits were doing the same. She noticed a few struggling—especially those who weren’t used to the added weight of the armor. John, in particular, was having a hard time keeping up. His face was flushed, and sweat poured down his forehead as he fought to stay on pace.
"Come on, John," Atlas thought, willing him to push through.
It wasn’t just a matter of physical endurance; it was about proving that she had what it took to rise above the rest.
But it wasn’t long before John and a few others began to falter. One by one, they slowed down, the treadmills automatically lowering their speed as they failed to keep up. Atlas watched them with a critical eye, his expression unreadable.
After the hour was up, Atlas gathered the group together again. Alicia had tabulated the results.
"Out of the 20 of you, 12 have passed this first test with good results," Alicia announced, holding a clipboard with the rankings. "Four of you barely scraped by, and the rest… Well, you need to work harder."
Isabella was relieved to find herself in the "good" category, though she wasn’t surprised. She’d trained for this, after all. John, on the other hand, was among those who hadn’t made it. His face was a mixture of exhaustion and determination as he looked at Atlas, silently promising to do better.
Next, Atlas set up the group in pairs for sparring matches. Isabella was paired with a wiry guy who favored a pair of daggers. Their match was intense, the clash of weapons filling the arena as they tested each other’s limits. The SFB system registered hits and damages. Isabella held her own, using her height and reach to her advantage, and eventually landed a decisive blow that ended their bout. According to the SFB system, her opponent would have been disemboweled.
As she caught her breath, she glanced over at the other pairs. Some were clearly more skilled than others, and it was evident that the final team would be made up of those who could push through the trials with both skill and endurance. Isabella knew she had the determination to make it, and she was ready to prove it.