The first few weeks of transitioning Genesis into life with the Challengers was like teaching a baby tortoise how to run in a race with hares—slow and utterly frustrating.

Osiris could see the potential that she possessed, the drive within her that pushed her onward in the fifteen mile runs, sparring sessions and the techniques required to avoid torture.

Yet when it came to the aspects of a real battle, she was quick to retreat, hidden behind the thinly raised walls of silence and remorse, and something else that she constantly yanked back behind her line of defenses.

She was being stubborn, was all he thought, and that was all it had to be considering it was quite a common trait in the opposite sex.

Ammit hadn't been much of a help either, as he'd been seeing less and less of her as each day went on. She would come for each of the sessions, and had begun increasing her training sessions with Genesis on the targets, but she always found a reason to leave the room before he could pull her aside.

He liked to think that it was one of her mood swings again. It was something she had gone through when her desires had clouded her judgement a few months ago, but he'd been able to approach and dispose of them then.

Now... now he was up against another beast entirely.

"You should shut your mouth, looks like you're about to drool."

Osiris blinked a few times and turned his head to find Ammit sitting next to him, stabbing small sprigs of broccoli and dipping them into a rich and syrupy soy sauce.

"About to drool over what?"

She rolled her eyes, a second sprig of broccoli splintering under the force of her fork. "Like you need me to tell you."

He looked forward again in the direction he'd been staring in for the last few minutes. It was no surprise that Ammit looked like she wanted to rip his spleen to shreds.

Genesis sat across from them on the other side of the hall, hair pinned back and lips drawn tight. Her hands, which had trembled frequently during each training session, now lay prone on the table as she stared at her empty plate.

"She doesn't have much of a liking for the food we are given," Ammit responded, a slice of  glazed ham meeting the same fate as the broccoli.

"Why not?"

Setting her fork down, Ammit swiveled around on the bench and faced Osiris. "Seth seems to think it's because she's homesick. I bet twenty ores that it was because she'd rather throw it back up in Atoka's face." 

"Why do you think that?" he asked, studying Genesis as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Why are you so full of questions today? Not in the mood for regular conversation?"

He stood up with his plate in hand. "Why don't you ask yourself that question, Zar."

"Sorry, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me that," she spat, eyes narrowed. "Can't have our Hemshaw finding out, can we? I might end up having my throat slit."

"I don't appreciate you mocking me."

She followed his lead, but stepped up and whispered. "Who said I was mocking?"

She shouldered past Osiris with a grunt and made her way over to her newfound friend.

As soon as Genesis made eye contact with Ammit, her irises exploded to life. If he hadn't thought her so dull, it probably would have shocked him less to see it.

"Can't say I'm that surprised to see Ammit warm up to her so easily either." A short, high pitched voice said.

"Has she ever not warmed up to someone? " Osiris replied, tossing his dish to the tall, spiny young man that stood next to him.

"I suppose not, although she really didn't take well to Anubis."

Osiris chuckled and made his way out of the dining hall, scouting out the scrawny guard that had followed them down the empty corridor. "Does anyone take well to Anubis, Seth?"

"Not even his own mother," the young man scoffed, wiping a hand through his blonde, wavy curls. "You'd think she'd have noticed the—."

"The ears?" Osiris pointed one finger out from both sides of his head.

The pair looked at each other and roared, hard slaps to the back followed by a quick punch or two left them stumbling down the hall like idiots.

"He knows what he's doing in the ring, though," Seth grumbled, locking his favorite pair of geldin into place around his wrists. "He's going up against Apophis tonight."

Osiris came to a halt and caught Seth by the shoulder, eyebrows drawn. "What do you mean he's fighting Apophis? My battle is tonight. There's usually only one main event per night."

Seth shrugged. "Times change, and so do Hemshaw budgets and crowd appeal. Maybe if we tossed a topless lark in there we'd get some blood flowing."

"I don't think that's the solution to our problem," Osiris muttered as he saw two other problems march up behind them.

"Genesis needs more training in the Hall," Ammit called over her shoulder, tugging the young girl down the hall. "If you need us, we'll be there."

They disappeared around the corner before he could put a word in and he shook his head.

Shrugging, Seth patted Osiris on the back again. "What do you say we follow them? See what exactly she's been teaching the little bird."

"The little bird?"

"The lark? Little bird? You don't see the connection there?" He raised his arms. "Fine, fine, whatever, just come on. I need a sparing partner to help with my right hook anyway."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'd like to kick... his...sorry.. ass!"

Genesis stood back from the training circle as Ammit's fist connected with the sparing dummy for the fifth time. She had already taken the liberty in tightening the strings of her chest plate, but she needed an extra set of hands to tighten the pair at the nape of her neck.

"I'm sure he wasn't serious about whatever it was he said," Genesis whispered.

Ammit scoffed, the heel of her foot colliding with the dummy's side. "Men are as serious as they are arrogant. And I've never met a man who didn't first think of himself."

Shuffling her feet together, Genesis pulled a short dagger from her belt and sidled over towards the targets.

She could stand to wait for sparing, as it was her least favorite task, but she couldn't count how many times she'd thrown that dagger and imagined Drahciir's pompous face at the end of it

"Ah-ah-ah!"

Genesis turned just as Ammit snatched the dagger from between her fingers. She scowled and reached for it, only to watch Ammit toss it in the other direction.

"What was that for?" she protested, a short screech in the hall tempting a smirk to her lips as the knife found Ammit's target.

"You might not want to spar, but you're going to have to if you ever plan to be strong enough to fight off the idiots that inhabit the Four Rivers."

Genesis rolled her eyes. "Neither you or Osiris have explained to me what that even means yet. How do you expect me to do well in it, when the only thing I've heard of it is the river of blood it supplies the muldir with?"

Ammit settled the dummy and backed into the center of the circle. "The Four Rivers is the name of the arena you're going to battle in."

"How'd it get the name?"

"You'll see." Cracking her knuckles, Ammit gestured for Genesis to move forward. "Now it's time to spar."

Cinching the strings of the armor, the metal plates cracked into place, a soft hiss shooting from their interior as they fitted to Genesis' neck.

"You should really try to use both your hands when it comes to using knives," Ammit started, pulling two from her belt. "They can work together, both an offense and a defense, but only if they're working together up here." She tapped her temple.

Genesis frowned, holding the pair at an awkward angle. "But how is that supposed to help me? Sure, I know how to shank someone and their unwanted attention, but I'm still lethargic with my pacing."

Before she received a response, Genesis watched wide eyed as Ammit's hooked blade skirted past the tip of her nose, drawing a single drop of crimson blood.

"What are you—!"

Hands wrapped around her waist and wrenched her to the floor. A sharp ringing began in the center of her ears as brass-lined knuckles collided with her jaw, sending her body across the mats in an attempted escape.

She should have realized it wouldn't be that easy.

Ammit was on top of her in seconds, blades drawn and aimed directly for Genesis' throat.

"Stop!" she screamed, throwing her arms up and halting the blades with the metal of her wrists. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you need to fight back! Do you think your opponent will be so forgiving or neglectful in the heat of battle?"

Genesis' opened her mouth, but she could barely whispered, "I didn't know."

"You should have known!" Ammit spat, her blade digging into wires and coating the pair in orange ichor. "It is your life or theirs! Expect everything! The second you begin to think, you die."

Spasms shot through Genesis' fingers, the steel tendons short circuiting and sending her right hand into a flurry of malfunctions.

Taking control of her thoughts, Genesis growled and kicked at Ammit, landing a blow to the stomach and giving herself enough time to roll out from beneath her.

Air rushed into her lungs as she rose to her feet, only to dodge to the left as Ammit continued her attack.

She glanced at her hand and saw that it had gone limp, useless from the wrist down. Great, just what she needed.

Instead of slowing, she decided to speed up, forgetting about the Challengers around them, about the trainers who were meant to observe them, and that particular pair of arduous amber eyes that were burning a hole in the back of her skull.

"Let him look," she thought, her left hand tightening around the hilt of her knife. It wasn't as if he was going to offer up any advice to her.

Her wrist locked into place when Ammit charged again, one blade flying as another took its place. That familiar and constant heat filled the empty chambers of her stomach, roiling and rumbling, longing for its escape...but not yet, not in front of the others.

She bent forward as Ammit ran forward, grabbing at her knees and vaulting her over her shoulders. Her tongue darted out, cooling the charred skin of her lips for a brief moment when she rallied ahead for the second wave of offense.

Ammit had adjusted to the throw, her body having twisted in the air and allowing her to land on her feet.

A loud hoot echoed from across the room, and her shoulders tightened as she tackled Genesis, grappling for a handle on her knives as a metal hand broke through the mess of limbs to jab at her neck.

Shock surged through Ammit's veins, the lark couldn't have managed a technique like that so soon, but it didn't matter in the end.

Genesis had reveled in the glory of landing a hit for a second too long, granting space for Ammit to slide her blade in and balance its tip just above the shell of her chest armor.

"You're dead," she murmured, her eyes clouded over before she pushed to her feet and sheathed her blades. "Remember what I told you. Never think. Never be proud. Otherwise you've beaten yourself before you've had a chance to step onto the playing field."

Holding out her hand, Ammit brought Genesis to her feet, brushing her off before raising her wrist to the light.

"It shouldn't be a hard fix. I wouldn't report it to the head trainer." Her nose crinkled and her hand rifled through several of the torn wires. "Ask Jax if he could do a quick rewire for you, he'd have it done in five minutes easily."

Genesis brought her hand up to her chest. "Who?"

Ammit snorted and shook her head, jutting her chin to the left. "Osiris."

She looked over and saw the two figures slouched against the wall, arms crossed and faces stern. Oh, Osiris was definitely over there, although Genesis couldn't place where she had seen the other man from.

"Ammit," a voice interrupted, "you are needed on the top floor."

The two turned to find one of the head guards standing off to the side, his shield at the ready and his arm held out in offering.

"What for?" she asked.

"I am unable to disclose any information at this time. Follow me."

Genesis watched as Osiris rose from the wall, hands fisting together, but Ammit had already taken the guard's arm.

"Very well."

The man secured his hand on top of hers and began to escort her towards the exit, but just as they passed Genesis, Ammit murmured, "Tell Osiris about this. Atoka never asks for our company, even when we fuck up big time. He'll know what to do."

She winced at her wording, but nodded accordingly, her teeth grinding as she watched the man pull Ammit to the dark hall.

Training continued around the interruption, but the heat began to stir again, as if the fire could tell she was flaming. She couldn't feel its spark in her fingertips any longer, but she could still feel its warm embrace, and she was determined to let it spread.

Her thoughts were dismissed in a hurry though as she watched Osiris marching her way, his face a mask of metal and flesh.

She hopped off the mat and met him halfway, taking him by the arm and pulling him to the side.

"Before you say anything, I need your help," she said, lifting her wrist and showing him the streams of liquid persimmon pooling in the crook of her elbow.

"But Ammit—."

Genesis rested her hand on his shoulder. "I'll explain it all when you finish fixing my wrist, but we need to go now before anyone wonders where we're off to."

He stiffened, mouth opening, probably to protest and ridicule her, but she wouldn't have it.

She dug her nails into his bicep. "Now, Jax."

His hand crushed hers as he ripped it from his shoulder, his metal arm screeching in protest.

For a moment, Genesis thought he was going to tear her hand from her wrist, however; he tucked it into his other hand, and pivoted to his left, guiding her over to the hall leading to their rooms.

"Osiris," Seth protested, arms outstretched, "what about helping me with my—."

"Not now, Seth," he growled.

Genesis stifled a giggle as the man's jaw dropped and he grumbled to himself as he stalked away.

"Are you sure I wasn't interrupting anything important?" she asked, eyes sparkling.

He glared back at her, but this time she allowed her laugh to soar, lifting her on its wings and into the light, even as she descended further into darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

*Geldin - metal strips that sink into the skin and are meant to bring healing along with software update to the individual's system.