The Perfect Specimen

"Alright class listen up! You are starting on your journey to be the shield of our city whenever we are expecting any threat to Utopias safety! It is an amazing honor that you should pride yourselves in."

"However, to be the shield is not so easy that just anyone can do it. I will work you to the bone, I will instill the military values into you, and above all I will turn you into soldiers!"

A drill instructor shouted to a group of nineteen children standing in a neat and file line, paying close attention to their behaviors and trying to find one he can pick out to make an example of to establish dominance.

Normally it would not be needed, considering that they are only children. However, due to the inflated ego that children who trained from infancy to now have developed, it has become necessary to instill a sense of equal footing with each child.

To do so he would either pick the assumed leader of the group or the class clown, as they drew the most attention.

The children all have an arrogant sneer on their faces as they listen to the instructor. They have already been told many times before by their respective families what positions they should strive for.

The only people who will need the soldier mentality are those who will be sent out en mass to chip away at enemy numbers with volume. However, only those who lack any discernible traits or fail to stand out among the crowd will be subjected to that position.

How could they, who have been training through their entire childhood not be someone outstanding? They will separate themselves from the rest and become an ascended that returns to their family in glory!

The drill instructor continues looking for the odd one out. However, although they are conceited, they are in formation. It's then that he realized he is missing one person from the line, on their very first day of training.

Just as he is about to look at the enrollment list for the class and find the perpetrator, he hears someone running from behind him. He turns around to see a bald child running towards him.

"Sorry about being late! I was told to come to room R233 but no one was there! I had to ask around to find out where class was at!" Alistair comes to a stop in front of the drill instructor.

Little does Alistair know that students are supposed to be told in the acceptance letter where to meet for combat training on the first day.

The drill instructor looks as if a hungry beast meeting it's prey. Instead of verbally setting Alistair straight though, he decides to give him a higher workload as an example of for the rest.

He simply nods his head with a stonewalled face and says, "Right, line up with the rest. Don't worry about being late mistakes happen."

The moment Alistair passes him, the drill instructor puts on a devilish grin and decides to begin the real portion of the class.

"Alright! Listen up! I only have two hours with you today as you are going to be meeting with all of your instructors! So, let's start things off with some basic cardio to warm you up. I need you to run in place for me until I come to you and say stop. Starting....now!"

He takes the whistle hanging around his neck and blows into it. All of the children start jogging in place feeling that this is to easy to be true! However, the longer they run, the more they feel that not to be the case.

Five minutes pass and everyone is still fine. Twenty minutes pass, and they start to become out of breath. Thirty minutes in, they realize that something is not right. They should not be so out of breath from just jogging.

Forty minutes pass and most of the children are out of breath ready to collapse. It is at fifty minutes in that the drill instructor starts walking up to children and allowing them to relax. He goes to each and every child and allows them to rest.

Just as he gets to Alistair though, he is about to say that he can stop but becomes distracted with something else. His shoe laces became untied, so he bends down to tie them.

He gets back up to tell Alistair that he can stop, however another distraction comes up. He notices another instructor walking past the entrance to their classroom and decides to go out and speak with him.

Alistair is consistently jogging in place, completely oblivious to the special treatment he is receiving. He is not paying too much attention to the others around him due to a revelation he has about himself.

He does not feel the slightest bit out of breath or exhausted no matter how active he is. He knows that everyone should be feeling exhausted because of some unknown pressure being exerted from somewhere.

However, he does not feel even the slightest form of strain. He notices the pressure as something that feels like a pale imitation of blood l.u.s.t. A feeling he has experienced numerous times before from the beast and the zombie huddle at the hospital.

Compared to those, this became nothing more than a parlor trick in front of Alistair. When the drill instructor came back in, of the allotted two hours, only thirty minutes remain.

He comes back into the class expecting to see Alistair laying on the ground, panting in defeat. After which, he could rebuke him in front of the others and establish the tone for the rest of the classes.

When he comes in however, he sees Alistair still jogging in place with a bored expression on his face.

"What the hell?!" Is the first thought on the drill instructors mind. "The pressure exerted should have been multiplying every ten minutes! There's no way he should be able to hold out against it!"

He then thinks of something, "Wait a minute... This kid is to relaxed as if he does not feel it at all. He must be from some family that has given him specialized training entirely on how to resist violent pressure. Tch, lucky brat."

He walks over to him ready to relieve him of jogging seeing as it has no affect, until he is hit with inspiration. "Oh yeah! I can still do that!"