Aria didn't announce the start.
She never did.
"Again," she said.
No countdown.
No warning.
Just expectation.
Fatigue Isn't an Excuse
They moved slower this time.
Bruised.
Breathing heavier.
Muscles protesting quietly.
Aria noticed immediately.
"Too slow," she said.
A man corrected his stance a fraction late.
She swept his leg.
He hit the floor.
Hard.
Safe.
"Up," she said.
He got up.
Mercy Would Be a Lie
She pushed them.
Not to failure—
Past it.
Drills chained together without rest.
Corrections delivered mid-motion.
Mistakes punished instantly.
Not cruel.
Accurate.
"You hesitate," she told one.
"You overcommit," she told another.
"You think too much," she said to a third, and knocked him flat before he could argue.
No one complained.
Because complaining wasted oxygen.
Noah Sees the Pattern
From the wall, Noah clenched his jaw.
"…She's not trying to hurt them," he realized.
"…She's trying to make sure pain never surprises them again."
This wasn't conditioning.
It was inoculation.
The Line Starts to Break
Sweat soaked shirts.
Hands shook.
One woman stumbled, knees buckling.
Before she could fall, Aria caught her collar.
Held her upright.
"Breathe," she said.
Two seconds.
That was all the rest she got.
"Again."
Why Mercy Would Kill Them
"You think I'm being hard," Aria said as they moved.
"I'm not."
She intercepted a sloppy strike and twisted the arm just enough to make the lesson permanent.
"This is what it feels like when no one cares if you live."
Her voice stayed calm.
"If you can function here—
You can function anywhere."
They Adapt or They Don't
Something changed.
Not speed.
Efficiency.
Movements got smaller.
Breaths timed better.
Eyes sharper despite exhaustion.
Pain stopped being shocking.
It became data.
Aria Finally Stops Them
She raised her hand.
They froze.
Immediate.
Perfect.
She looked at them for a long moment.
Measured.
Satisfied.
Closing Beat
"That's enough," she said.
Not relief.
Completion.
Bodies sagged where they stood, chests heaving, vision swimming.
No one dropped.
No one collapsed.
They stayed upright.
Because she had taught them—without mercy—
How to keep going when mercy wasn't coming.
And that lesson—
Was the one that saved lives.
