The impact came from the side, too fast to follow with his eyes. Scarlet’s blade not only broke through Victor’s guard but also pierced the space he thought he had protected. The blow wasn’t clean; it was heavy, brutal, and his body simply gave way. The dry sound of his body hitting the ground echoed through the courtyard, carrying with it the sound of his breath failing mid-movement. He tried to turn to absorb the fall, but he was already too slow to execute anything with precision.

Scarlet didn’t advance immediately. She stood a few steps ahead, sword still in hand, observing the outcome with a neutral gaze, like someone who already knew exactly where this was going to end. Victor remained on the ground, on his side, his arm trembling slightly as he tried to push himself up. He couldn’t. The muscle responded too late, weak, uncoordinated.

He gasped for air, but his breath wasn’t clear. His chest burned; his lungs seemed unable to keep up with the rhythm he needed. His entire body felt heavy, not only from the absurd gravity that still pressed down on every cell, but from the accumulated damage that hadn’t been resolved. Without new blood, everything was being recycled to its limit. And that limit had already been passed.

Scarlet walked towards him unhurriedly, twirling her sword slightly before resting the tip on the ground. She looked down, assessing his condition directly, without softening anything.

"It’s over," she said simply. "You’ve reached the peak of stress and exhaustion. From here on out, it’s not training. It’s collapse."

Victor didn’t answer. He tried to move again, forcing his arm to push his body upwards. His elbow gave way mid-movement, and he fell again, this time face down, his face almost touching the ground. His body wasn’t obeying properly. Not completely.

Even so, he tried again.

His fingers dug into the stone, searching for some traction. The muscles in his arm tensed, trembling visibly. His body rose a few centimeters... and stopped. There wasn’t enough strength to complete the movement. There wasn’t enough coordination to support his own weight at that level.

Before he could insist again, something pressed against his back.

Carmilla.

She simply sat on top of him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. There was no attempt to lighten the weight. On the contrary, she adjusted her position, distributing her body so that he had no leverage to lift himself.

Victor exhaled sharply as the extra weight pressed his already exhausted body even harder against the floor.

"Enough," she said.

The tone wasn’t light.

It wasn’t calm.

It was direct, charged, and different from normal.

Victor tried to turn his face to look at her, but the movement was limited. He remained there, trapped between the floor and her weight, breathing heavily, trying to regain some control.

"It was about time," Carmilla continued. "This is your limit. It’s over."

He didn’t answer. She tried to move again.

Nothing.

She didn’t even need to increase the weight. Just enough to prevent any real attempt to lift.

"There’s no more increasing gravity," she said, now with clearer irritation in her voice. "There’s no more going without blood. There’s no more of that shit."

Scarlet watched from the side, silently, without interfering.

Victor closed his eyes for a second, trying to steady his breathing.

"I’m out," he murmured, his voice hoarse and low.

Carmilla didn’t move.

"No," she replied.

Simple.

No discussion.

He tried again, forcing his body to react. The result was the same. Nothing but trembling and failure.

Carmilla leaned slightly forward, bringing her face close to the side of his head, her gaze now harder.

"You’re desperate," she said. "And this will kill you."

It wasn’t an assumption. It was a statement.

Victor opened his eyes again, staring at the floor ahead, without immediately responding.

Carmilla continued.

"You’ve gone too far a long time ago," she said. "This isn’t evolution anymore. It’s you pushing your body until it breaks just because you don’t know when to stop."

Her tone wasn’t loud.

But it was heavy.

Direct.

Unfiltered.

"You think this is control?" she continued. "That this is discipline? It’s not. This is disguised desperation."

Victor clenched his teeth slightly.

"Don’t talk like you know," he replied, still unable to stand.

Carmilla made a small, irritated sound through her nose.

"I know exactly what I’m seeing," she said. "And what I’m seeing is someone who already withstands one hundred and twenty times the planet’s gravity and still acts like it’s not enough."

She slightly adjusted her position on his back, pressing harder, just to make sure he didn’t try anything.

"One hundred and twenty," she repeated. "Do you have any idea what that means?"

Victor remained silent.

Breathing.

Feeling his body fail at small, simple things.

Carmilla didn’t wait for an answer.

"That’s enough," she said. "Much more than enough."

Scarlet looked away slightly, but didn’t disagree.

Carmilla continued, now with more visible irritation.

"But no," she said. "You want more. Always more. Always pushing beyond, as if something is chasing you."

She paused briefly.

"And it is," she added.

Victor didn’t answer.

But his body tensed.

Carmilla noticed.

"You think that if you stop, you’ll fall behind," she said. "That someone will catch up with you. That someone will be better."

She tilted her head slightly.

"Or worse... that you won’t get where you want to be."

Silence.

Victor took a deep breath.

Difficult.

Heavy.

But controlled.

"I will get there," he said softly.

Carmilla closed her eyes for a second, clearly irritated.

"Not like this," she replied.

She opened her eyes again, her gaze fixed on him.

"You’re not building something stable," she continued. "You’re piling effort on top of a body that’s already at its limit." Victor moved his arm slightly, still trying to regain some strength.

"My body can take it," he said.

Carmilla responded immediately.

"For now."

Silence.

Scarlet finally spoke.

"She’s right," he said simply.

Victor turned his head slightly, just enough to see her out of the corner of his eye.

Scarlet maintained a neutral gaze.

"You’re holding everything back by brute force," she continued. "But that doesn’t scale forever."

Victor made a small sound through his nose.

"It scales enough," he replied.

Carmilla lost a little more patience.

"No," she said more firmly. "It doesn’t scale."

She lightly patted his back, not aggressively, but emphatically.

"You’re not infinite," she continued. "And acting like you are just shows how stupid you’re being right now."

Victor remained silent.

His breathing was still heavy.

The body still failing to respond.

But the mind... active.

Carmilla sighed, running a hand over her face for a second before continuing, now a little more controlled, but still irritated.

"You’ve proven what you needed to prove," she said. "To us, to you, to anyone watching."

She paused briefly.

"Now stop acting like you’re still at the beginning."

Victor closed his eyes again.

Not from tiredness.

From focus.

His body still wouldn’t rise.

But the internal tension shifted.

Carmilla noticed.

And that only made her press a little harder.

"Today is over," she said. "And tomorrow you’ll drink blood."

Victor opened his eyes.

"No."

Immediate answer.

Without hesitation.

Carmilla was silent for a second.

Then she let out a small, humorless laugh.

"You really don’t learn," he murmured.

Victor tried to move again.

This time, a little more.

Still not enough.

But different.

"If I give in now," he said, his voice low but firm, "all of this loses its meaning."

The slap came straight and hard enough to cut off any attempt at reaction. Victor was on the ground, still trying to gather strength to move, when the impact hit the side of his face and turned his head effortlessly. The sound was dry and short, without exaggeration, but heavy enough to make his vision wander for a moment. He didn’t react immediately. He stood still for a few seconds, trying to understand if it had really happened or if it was just the effect of accumulated fatigue. The sensation of heat on his skin answered before his thoughts could organize anything.

He slowly brought his hand to his face, feeling the spot where he had been hit. His skin was warm, sensitive, and the contact of his fingers confirmed that it hadn’t been his imagination. He took a deep breath, still lying down, and carefully turned his face back. Scarlet was there, close by, looking directly at him. There was no uncontrolled anger in her expression, nor any exaggeration. It was just firm. Direct. No room for discussion.

"That’s it, that’s enough," she said.

Her tone didn’t rise, but it left no doubt. Victor stared for a few seconds without answering. His hand still on his face, his body frozen against the ground, his head trying to process what had changed. Scarlet had never done that before. Not like that. Not with that clear intention of interrupting everything.

Carmilla was still sitting on his back, keeping her weight distributed so that he couldn’t get up. She didn’t say anything at that moment either. Her silence wasn’t indecision. It was agreement. Victor realized this without needing to look directly. Her body didn’t relax, didn’t move, didn’t give way. She was supporting it.

Victor blinked once, breathing heavily, and looked from one to the other. His mind didn’t freeze because of the pain. He had already taken much more than that during training. The problem was something else. The sensation was different. It hadn’t been a training strike. It hadn’t been a technical correction. It was a direct stop.

"You... hit me," he said, still trying to make sense of it.

"Yes," Scarlet replied, without changing her mind.

No explanation. No excuse. No beating around the bush. Victor was silent after that. He didn’t know exactly how to respond. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t immediate anger. It was a lack of reference point. This wasn’t part of the pattern he was used to in that training session.

Carmilla spoke after a few seconds, still on top of him. "You went too far," she said, lower but firm. "And you ignored everything we said."

Victor didn’t answer immediately. He looked at the floor, breathing heavily, trying to organize some line of reasoning that made sense. His body still failed to respond properly, but his mind was preoccupied with something else now.

"I know what I’m doing," he said.

The sentence came out weaker than he expected. Not in volume, but in certainty. Scarlet responded immediately, without raising her voice. "No. You think you know."

Victor closed his eyes for a second, trying to regain focus, but it didn’t work as before. It wasn’t just about forcing his body to keep going anymore. He opened his eyes again, looking in their direction.

"If I stop now, I lose," he said.

Carmilla let out a short sigh against his back. "Lose what?" she asked.

Victor took a moment to answer. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t have a simple answer ready. "Time. Advantage," he finally said.

Scarlet took a step closer, without changing her expression. "For whom?" she asked.

Victor froze for a moment. He didn’t answer. His silence was answer enough. Scarlet continued. "For whom are you running?"

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have a direct answer. And that was clear. Carmilla felt the change in his body and eased the pressure a little, but didn’t move. It wasn’t to release him. It was just to avoid freezing completely.

Victor ran his hand over his face again, still feeling the point of impact. He stared at the floor for a few seconds before speaking again. "I’ve never felt this before," he said.

Scarlet didn’t ask what it was. She just waited.

"It wasn’t the slap," he continued. "It was... this."

He turned his face slightly, looking at the two of them. He didn’t have much expression, but you could see he was trying to understand.

"This," he said.

Carmilla responded after a moment. "Then maybe you really need to feel this," she said.

Scarlet didn’t say anything, but kept her gaze fixed on him. Victor stayed there, still on the floor, still too weak to get up, but this time he didn’t try again. It wasn’t for lack of trying. It was because he didn’t know if he should keep pushing at that point. His body still ached, his breathing was still heavy, but his mind was preoccupied with something else. For the first time since the training began, he didn’t have an immediate answer for the next step.