Chapter 90 | A Ruby Handshake and an Obsidian Cold Shoulder

I walked into the arena annex at 9:52. Eight minutes early.

Garrett already stood at the center of the padded floor. His arms crossed. Those weathered scars catching the overhead lights. His expression said he’d been standing there since five in the morning just waiting for students to disappoint him.

Ruby students filtered in from the left entrance. Obsidian from the right. The usual separation. Guild kids up front. Lottery winners in back.

Naomi entered with some Sapphire girls. She spotted me immediately. Then chose a spot on the complete opposite side of the arena.

Cool.

That’s fine.

Everything’s fine.

Belle came in next. Blue hair pulled back in that high ponytail that made her neck look longer. Her uniform modified just enough to violate regulations without giving faculty ammunition. She saw me standing near the wall.

Walked right past like I was furniture.

Also fine.

Jordan shuffled in looking half-dead. He spotted me and actually waved. Thank god. At least one person still acknowledged my existence.

He came over. Stood beside me. Yawned so wide his jaw cracked.

"You look worse than me," he said.

"Thanks."

"No seriously. You look like you got hit by a truck. Then the truck backed up. Then ran you over again."

"It’s been a morning."

"Simulation training was your idea." He yawned again. "I blame you entirely."

Garrett clapped once. The sound echoed through the arena like a gunshot.

Everyone shut up immediately.

"Weapons were fun yesterday," Garrett said. His voice carried that gravelly quality that made everything sound like a threat. "Today we’re doing something better. Weight training."

A Ruby kid raised his hand. "Sir, we already did physical conditioning with you on Monday."

"And now we’re doing it again." Garrett smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. "You think your body only needs training once a week? You think monsters care about your workout schedule?"

The kid lowered his hand.

"Today you’re learning how your body fails under sustained stress. How your muscles burn. How your form breaks down when you’re exhausted." Garrett gestured toward the equipment room. "Partner up. Spotter and lifter. You’ve got three minutes."

Everyone scattered.

I looked around. Jordan had already paired with some Emerald kid. Belle was partnering with Naomi.

Of course.

They stood together on the far side of the room. Not looking at me. Probably discussing how I was a piece of shit. Which was fair.

A Ruby kid approached me. Short. Stocky. Built like a fire hydrant.

"You need a partner?"

"Yeah."

"I’m Marcus. Ruby house."

"Jace. Obsidian."

We shook hands. His grip could crush concrete.

"You’re the lottery kid who can only do one pull-up," Marcus said.

"That’s me."

"Cool. I’ll spot you first so you don’t die."

We headed to the bench press station. The bar sat empty. Weight plates stacked on either side. Everything organized with military precision.

Garrett’s voice boomed across the arena. "Start with your warm-up weight. Three sets of twelve. Then we increase. No ego lifts. I catch anyone trying to impress their buddies, you’re doing burpees until you puke."

I loaded forty-five pounds on each side of the bar. Ninety total. Plus the bar itself made it one thirty-five.

That was my working weight two days ago.

Now it felt heavier.

The Silver-tier essence had worn off yesterday. My stats were back to baseline. Endurance at D-rank zero out of ten. Strength at E-rank nine out of ten.

One segment away from D-rank Strength.

But one segment felt like miles right now.

I lay down on the bench. Gripped the bar. Marcus stood behind me ready to assist.

"Whenever you’re ready," he said.

I unracked the bar. Lowered it to my chest. Pushed.

The bar went up. Slower than I wanted. But it went up.

I lowered it again. Pushed again. The bar shook slightly. My arms protested.

"Keep your back flat," Marcus said. "You’re arching too much."

I adjusted. Pushed again.

Eight reps in and my arms felt like wet noodles. By rep ten I was gritting my teeth. Rep eleven took everything I had.

Rep twelve almost didn’t happen.

Marcus grabbed the bar and helped me rack it.

I sat up. Breathing hard.

"Not bad," Marcus said. "You actually finished the set."

"Your encouragement is overwhelming."

"I call it like I see it." He grinned. "My turn."

He loaded the bar to two twenty-five. Then lay down and pumped out twelve reps like he was pressing air.

Ruby kids were built different.

We alternated for two more sets. By the third set I could barely complete eight reps. Marcus had to help me with the last four.

My chest burned. My arms trembled. The system notification pinged quietly in my peripheral vision.

STRENGTH: E-RANK (9.4/10)

Progress. Tiny. But progress.

Across the arena, Belle and Naomi worked through their own sets. Belle spotted Naomi on the bench press. They talked quietly between reps. Probably about me.

Definitely about me.

Naomi laughed at something Belle said. That genuine laugh. The one that made her whole face light up.

I hadn’t heard that laugh since yesterday morning. Before everything went to shit.

"You good?" Marcus asked.

"Yeah. Fine."

"You keep staring at those two."

"No I don’t."

"Yes you do." He started loading more weight. "Girl problems?"

"Something like that."

"Which one?"

"Both."

Marcus whistled. "Bold strategy. How’s it working out?"

"About as well as my bench press."

"So terribly."

"Exactly."

He laughed. Then lay back down for his next set.

Garrett moved through the arena like a predator. He stopped at different stations. Corrected form. Adjusted weights. Barked encouragement that sounded like insults.

He reached our station just as I finished my fourth set.

"Monroe," Garrett said.

I sat up. "Sir."

"Your form’s sloppy. Elbows are flaring. Lower back’s lifting off the bench."

"Yes sir."

"You know why that happens?"

"Because I’m weak?"

"Because you’re rushing." Garrett crossed his arms. "You’re trying to push through the set instead of controlling each rep. Slow down. Feel the muscle work. Stop trying to finish fast."

"Understood."

He moved to the next station without another word.

Marcus reloaded the bar. "He’s right. You’re jerking the weight up."

"I know."

"So stop."

"Working on it."

We did two more sets. I focused on control. Slower descent. Pause at the bottom. Deliberate press upward.

It was harder. Way harder.

But the system notification popped again.

STRENGTH: E-RANK (9.7/10)

Three more tenths of a segment. From focusing on form instead of speed.

Huh.

Maybe Garrett knew what he was talking about.

After bench press we moved to squats. Then deadlifts. Then overhead press.

Each exercise burned through whatever energy reserves I had left. By the time we hit the final station I could barely lift the empty bar.

Marcus carried the weight for both of us. He’d moved to one ninety-five on his deadlift. I’d topped out at one thirty-five.

Pathetic.

But I finished every set.

Garrett called time at 10:55. Everyone collapsed where they stood. Ruby kids sprawled across benches. Obsidian students sat against walls.

I lay flat on the mat. Staring at the ceiling. Everything hurt.

"Good work today," Garrett said. "You all survived. Some of you even improved. Hit the showers. Class dismissed."

People slowly dragged themselves toward the locker rooms.

I stayed on the mat. Just breathing.

Jordan appeared above me. Looking down. "You alive?"

"Barely."

"Same." He offered his hand.

I took it. He pulled me up.

"You and I are grabbing lunch," Jordan said. "I need food. Real food. Not whatever sadness the dining hall serves."

"The dining hall has good food."

"Today it won’t. Trust me."

We headed to the locker room.

I showered. Changed. My uniform fit slightly better now. Five pounds down. Progress visible in small ways.

But my chest ached. My arms felt like jelly. And I had to somehow survive Dungeon Ecology with Cross while Naomi and Belle both pretended I didn’t exist.

This was going great.

Jordan and I walked across campus toward the dining hall. The California sun beat down. Warm but not hot. Perfect weather for people who weren’t dying inside.

"So," Jordan said. "What’d you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Belle and Naomi are both avoiding you. You look guilty. Do the math."

I said nothing.

"That bad?"

"Complicated."

"Complicated means you fucked up." Jordan pulled out a candy. Unwrapped it. Popped it in his mouth. "What happened?"

"I made promises I didn’t keep. Then I made things worse by being selfish. Now they both hate me."

"Do they hate you or are they just mad?"

"What’s the difference?"

"Mad fades. Hate doesn’t." He looked at me. Those grey eyes actually alert for once. "You planning to fix it?"

"I don’t know how."

"Start by apologizing. Like actually apologizing. Not that half-assed ’I’m sorry you’re upset’ garbage. Own what you did. Then give them space."

"That’s it?"

"That’s all you can do." Jordan shrugged. "They’ll either forgive you or they won’t. Can’t force it."

We reached the dining hall. The lunch crowd had already filled most tables. The noise level was headache territory.

I grabbed a tray. Loaded it with protein. Chicken. Rice. Vegetables. More chicken.

Jordan got pasta and three desserts.

"That’s your lunch?"

"I’m stress eating. Leave me alone."

We found an empty table near the windows. Far from Belle and Naomi who sat with Marc and some other lottery kids.

I could see them from here. Belle gesturing while she talked. Naomi listening. Both of them looking relaxed. Happy.

Without me.

"Stop staring," Jordan said.

"I’m not."

"You are. Eat your food."

I ate. The chicken tasted like cardboard. Probably my fault. Everything tasted wrong today.

My phone buzzed.

Aurora: how’s your morning going? 🦊

I stared at the text. Then typed back.

Me: survived weight training. barely.

Aurora: garrett is brutal but fair

Aurora: you free after classes?