It's day sixty-eight on the Arkvault, a seven-mile cosmic gym where chaos is the ultimate rep, and we're D-rank Earthly Ramblers, buzzing like we've chugged focus drinks before a max-out session. I'm Alex, Coach Bounce, my upgraded red-and-black suit humming, flux tingling in my palms—but I'm keeping that quiet today—heart doing burpees thinking of Fiona's hug last night. My bracelet, that cheeky glowing bangle, pings: Query: Romantic hug PR logged? "Not now, bangle," I mutter, plasma pistol holstered, glowing blades sheathed, power fist ready. I step out of Unit 59, Habitat-382, ready to hit the Guild for a new mission.
Outside our flats—Units 57–59—Fiona's waiting, her upgraded white-and-black suit sleek, flux staff in bow mode, braid catching the fake sunlight. Dmitri looms, upgraded orange-and-black suit snug, magma spear retracted, shield folded. "Morning, lovebirds," Dmitri grunts, smirking wider than a warp drive. Fiona blushes, eyes on her boots. I grin, cheeks warm. "Ready for action, mate?"
Before we teleport, my bracelet hums, a secret message from the elder: Alex, earth elemental training awaits. Guild facility, now. Trainer secured. Do NOT mention flux. Fiona and Dmitri have sessions too. My eyes widen. "Blimey, the elder's fast!" I say, tapping the chip discreetly. Fiona tilts her head. "What's up?"
"Elder's got us training," I whisper, showing the message. "Earth for me, flux for you, fire-wind for Dmitri. Let's roll." Dmitri's smirk deepens. "Suspicious old man, but free training? I'm in."
"Free's my favorite word," Fiona says, staff pulsing. "Let's see what they've got." We tap our bracelets—chips humming discreetly—and teleport to the Guild dome's training facility, its red pulse throbbing like a cosmic heart.
The facility's a rocky arena, jagged boulders scattered like weights in a gym, not the flux stones I saw last time. A slim, rocky alien—skin like cracked granite—strides up, eyes glowing amber. "I'm Korrath, earth trainer," he rumbles via translator. "This room simulates any environment. Today, it's earth for you, Alex. Others, your rooms are adjacent." Fiona and Dmitri nod, heading to their sessions. I glance at Korrath, flux itching but hidden, per the elder's warning. "Simulations? That's new," I say, flexing my power fist.
"Standard tech," Korrath grunts, tossing a pebble. "Feel the rock. You've got affinity, human. Focus." I smirk, grabbing the pebble, my earth energy tingling like a new PR. "Like lifting weights with my mind?"
"Less chatter, more focus," Korrath snaps, but his eyes glint with amusement. "Move that boulder." He points to a rock the size of a dumbbell. I focus, earth energy humming, and the boulder wobbles, inching up. "Blimey, I'm a rock whisperer!" I cheer, sweating.
Korrath snorts. "Barely a pebble pusher. Keep at it." I spend hours shifting small rocks, my suit humming, energy sparking. "This is like cardio and weights in one!" I pant, rolling a stone. Korrath nods. "You've got potential. Weekly sessions from now on." My bracelet pings: Earth training logged. Query: Rock-lifting badge? "Cheeky," I mutter, agreeing to the schedule.
In the evening, we meet at the teleporter, sweaty but grinning. Fiona's braid is mussed, her flux staff glowing. "Flux training was wild—shot arrows through holo-targets!" she says, eyes sparkling.
Dmitri's shield flickers with fire. "Wind blasts, fire bursts. My trainer's a beast," he grunts, smirking. "Weekly sessions, like you?"
"Yup," I say, flexing. "Moved rocks like a cosmic landscaper. What's with this elder, though? Free training's great, but…"
"Suspicious," Dmitri cuts in, spear glinting. "He's hiding something."
We teleport to my flat—Unit 59—its holo-panels flickering. Fiona grabs synth-veggies, I heat protein bars, Dmitri cracks open fizzing drinks. "This kitchen's a workout," I joke, dodging a steaming pan. "Who's burning the grub?"
"Not me!" Fiona laughs, tossing me a veggie. "You're the chef, Coach Bounce."
"Chef? I'm more microwave maestro," I retort, catching it. Dmitri smirks, sipping. "You two flirt over food now? Pathetic."
"Oi, you're just jealous of my culinary skills!" I shoot back, plating bars. We sit, digging in, the fake stars twinkling outside. "Seriously, though," I say, chewing. "This elder's got an angle. I'm not sure we should trust him."
Dmitri nods, eyes sharp. "He's playing a game. Council politics, maybe. We're pawns."
"Pawns with 15,500 credits," Fiona says, smirking. "But Alex's right. We can't live our whole lives in this ship. We need to climb ranks—get off-ship missions."
"Off-ship?" I say, eyes wide. "That's the goal. Higher ranks, more answers. What are we up against?"
"Strength's the key," Fiona says, staff pulsing on the table. "The stronger we are, the more freedom we get. C-rank, B-rank, whatever it takes."
"Like leveling up in a cosmic gym," I grin, fist-bumping her. Her touch sparks, and Dmitri's smirk says he's onto us. "To strength!" I toast, raising my drink.
"To freedom!" Fiona adds, clinking.
"To not being lab rats," Dmitri grunts, clinking harder. We laugh, the room warm with banter and synth-food. After dinner, a few drinks loosen us up. Dmitri yawns, spear leaning on the wall. "Sleep calls," he says, heading to Unit 57. "Don't stay up smooching, lovebirds."
"Oi!" I protest, blushing. Fiona giggles, cheeks red. As she steps to Unit 58, I steel myself, heart pumping like pre-lift jitters. "Fiona, wait," I say, arms open. I hug her—confident, no freezing this time—her warmth like a flux burst. "Good night," I say, grinning.
"Good night," she murmurs, hugging back, then darts to her flat, braid bouncing. Dmitri, at his door, flashes a thumbs-up, smirking. My bracelet pings: Incident: Confident hug.