CHAPTER 14: SEVEN WEEKS OUT
POV: Ivyn Mikaelson
May arrives with tournament countdown anxiety bleeding into every dojo session. Seven weeks feels simultaneously too much time and nowhere near enough.
My body is a map of bruises and progress.
[CURRENT PHYSICAL STATUS:]
[Combat XP: 16,245]
[Multiple techniques: Master level (900+ XP)]
[Strength: 47/100]
[Speed: 50/100]
[Endurance: 52/100]
Sleep is luxury sacrificed for training. Meals are fuel rather than pleasure. Every waking moment calculates angles and combinations and strategies for opponents I've studied obsessively.
Johnny announces it during Monday class.
"Hell Week starts tomorrow. Double sessions daily. Full-contact sparring. Conditioning designed to break you and rebuild you stronger."
Students drop out in waves. Unable to sustain the intensity.
But the core group endures through mutual suffering. Me, Miguel, Hawk, Aisha, Robby. A unit forged in shared pain. Pushing each other past reasonable limits into territory where willpower matters more than talent.
[HELL WEEK: DAY 1]
[Training Duration: 6 hours]
[Fatigue: 45/100]
[Minor injuries accumulating]
[DAY 2]
[Training Duration: 6 hours]
[Fatigue: 62/100]
[WARNING: Approaching critical threshold]
[DAY 3]
[Training Duration: 6 hours]
[Fatigue: 78/100]
[RECOMMENDATION: Rest immediately]
I ignore it.
Day five. Sparring with Miguel. Moving through combinations. My vision tunnels at the edges. Equilibrium fails.
The mat rushes up. Or I fall down. Hard to tell the difference.
Sounds fade to white noise. Johnny's voice distant. "Mikaelson! Mikaelson, can you hear me?"
"I'm fine. Just need a second. Just need—"
Darkness.
Consciousness returns in fragments. Car seat. Sam's voice. Furious and frightened in equal measure.
"This is insane. You're killing yourself for a trophy?"
Even foggy, the response comes automatically. "Not for a trophy. To be ready for what's coming."
The cryptic answer confuses her. But I'm too exhausted to clarify.
Johnny's voice from somewhere. "He'll be fine. Kid just pushed too hard. Mikaelson, you're benched until you can stand without falling over."
[CRITICAL STATUS: OVERTRAINING]
[All physical stats: -20% for 72 hours]
[Risk of permanent damage if training continues]
[Mandatory rest period initiated]
Sam drives me home. Forces fluids and rest. We sit on my ratty couch while the room spins slowly.
"What are you preparing for?" Her voice is soft. Not accusatory. "You train like you're expecting war, not a tournament."
Guard lowered by exhaustion, I come closer to truth than ever.
"I'm terrified of being helpless when something bad happens. Of watching people I care about get hurt because I wasn't strong enough. Fast enough. Prepared enough."
Sam's empathy kicks in. "What happened to you? In foster care, in your past—what made you this way?"
"I died in a crosswalk and woke up in a TV show knowing exactly how tragedy unfolds and I'm the only one who can stop it."
Can't say that. Offer adjacent truth instead.
"I watched people suffer because no one intervened. I promised myself I'd never be the person who stands by while bad things happen."
She holds me while I recover. Something shifts. She stops trying to moderate my intensity and starts trying to ensure I survive it.
[RELATIONSHIP MILESTONE: SAM LARUSSO]
[Status: Girlfriend (Deeply Concerned but Accepting)]
[Trust level: 68/100]
[NEW TRAIT UNLOCKED: SURVIVOR'S RESOLVE]
[Bonus: +15% stat recovery rate]
[Bonus: +10% performance under extreme fatigue]
[Cost: Increased injury risk from pushing limits]
Three days of forced rest feel like torture. But the System's recovery protocols are absolute. Train injured and risk permanent damage.
I use the time for mental training. Studying opponent footage. Memorizing bracket possibilities. Running tactical simulations.
When I return to the dojo, Johnny pulls me aside.
"You scared the shit out of me. Don't do that again."
It's as close to affection as Johnny gets.
"Yes, Sensei."
"I mean it. You're no good to anyone dead." He claps my shoulder. "Six weeks to the tournament. Pace yourself."
[ALL VALLEY TOURNAMENT: 6 WEEKS]
[Current Combat Rating: 48/100]
[Recommended Rating: 65/100]
[Time remaining: Limited]
Six weeks. Everything accelerates toward a conclusion only I can see coming.
I train smarter. Not just harder. Rest when the System demands it. Push when it's safe.
The tournament looms. A deadline that feels both too close and not close enough.
And somewhere in the chaos of preparation, I wonder if I'll be ready when everything goes wrong.
The System offers no reassurance. Just numbers climbing slowly toward adequacy.
Sometimes that's all there is.
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