Atlas: Back to the Present – Time Travel + Post Apoc + OP MC

CHAPTER 16: Day 2 Ends



As Atlas stood at the front of the arena with Alicia, surveying the beaten and exhausted recruits sprawled across the training floor, his mind was already racing ahead. These people might be tough, but none of them had faced the kind of horrors he had. As their labored breathing filled the room, the weight of the day’s training was clear. Sweat dripped from their brows, and bruises mottled their skin. Yet there was still that spark of determination in their eyes—a spark Atlas was counting on to build the best SFB team possible.

Alicia, still under the impression that Atlas was preparing these recruits for the Society of Creative Battle gym, watched the group with a discerning eye. She didn’t know the truth—that Atlas was preparing for something far more dangerous.

Atlas could see the mixture of determination and exhaustion on their faces. He recognized the telltale signs of people pushed to their limits—bodies aching, muscles burning, minds racing. But he also knew that this was only the beginning. He had bigger plans in mind, plans that went far beyond the scope of a mere gym.

He didn’t doubt that the physical conditioning and combat drills would pay off, but he knew deep down that no amount of conventional training could fully prepare them for what was to come. The portals were unpredictable, filled with horrors that defied explanation. 

Atlas wasn’t just building a team; he was forging a unit that would stand shoulder to shoulder with him in the face of unimaginable danger. These people needed to be ready for anything, and he would stop at nothing to ensure they were.

Alicia stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over the group. "For those of you who are struggling, remember—tomorrow is your last chance to prove yourselves. If you don’t, we’re going to have to make some cuts."

John flinched, feeling a cold knot of dread form in his stomach. He knew he was among those at risk, but despite his friendship with Atlas, he was determined to earn his spot through his own merit. The last thing he wanted was a handout. Nepotism was cool when it came to getting free drinks, but not when it came to a shot at televised fights. Because if he was snuck in now, he’d have his ass handed to him live on Pay Per View.

Atlas nodded, acknowledging Alicia's words. "Alright, dismissed. Get some rest tonight, because tomorrow, we’ve got more fun in store for you. And hey, after tomorrow, there's a bonus. You'll all meet with our nutritionists and dietitians before you leave to go over your meal plans. And as a perk, starting on day four, we'll be providing all your meals."

This news perked Wilfredo up significantly. He couldn’t hide the relief on his face. His meals were a significant expense, especially given that he’d taken time off from his handyman gig on Kijiji to participate in this training. The idea of saving money on food for the next few days was a godsend. *Chicken breasts ain’t cheap.*

Atlas gave the group one last look before heading out of the room, his mind already shifting to his next task. He had a new destination in mind: a rifle range. While he had already acquired his gun licence, he had never received formal training, and with the apocalypse looming, he knew he needed to be more than just competent—he needed to be prepared for anything.

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Atlas didn’t TRULY believe that guns would be effective against the monsters in the wasteland. These were creatures that could tear through flesh and armor with ease. But he also knew that being unprepared wasn’t an option. Practicing at the rifle range was more about covering all his bases than placing actual faith in the weapons themselves. *It wouldn’t hurt to be ready for anything,* he thought.

Atlas arrived at the rifle range with his new rifle and shotgun. Taking off his trigger locks, he thought, *Sigh, if I was in America I’m sure they wouldn’t blink if I drove a tank in here. Let alone worry about trigger locks. Stupid Canadian laws.*

The rifle range he had chosen had a reputation for providing more than just standard marksmanship courses; they offered tactical training that simulated real-world combat scenarios. The kind of training he would need to practice.

After checking in, he was led to a private training area by an instructor who had the kind of quiet confidence Atlas respected. The walls of the range were lined with an array of targets, each designed to challenge a different skill—moving targets, pop-up dummies, and even live fire drills that require quick thinking and precise action.

The instructor began with the basics, ensuring that Atlas understood the fundamentals of his weapons. They covered stance, grip, sight alignment, and trigger control—all the essentials that could mean the difference between life and death. But it wasn’t long before they moved on to the more advanced tactics.

Atlas found himself in a series of drills designed to test his ability to react under pressure. The instructor set up various scenarios where Atlas had to identify threats, prioritize targets, and move swiftly while maintaining accuracy. The range echoed with the sharp crack of gunfire as Atlas engaged targets from different positions—standing, kneeling, and prone—each requiring a different technique.

*Man, this is kind of fun, why didn’t I come here before?* 

One drill involved navigating a simulated urban environment, where targets popped up unexpectedly from behind cover. Atlas was forced to think on his feet, adapting to the shifting situation as he fired off rounds, reloaded, and moved to new cover positions.

*Who’s the next John freakin’ Wick? I am! Boom boom!*

The instructor was relentless, pushing him to his limits, barking commands and critiquing every mistake. Atlas nodded, his heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he fired off another round, dropping the target that had just appeared.

By the end of the session, Atlas was drenched in sweat. But he felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He had spent a year in the apocalypse fighting monsters and had no problem with the physical exercises, but never had to incorporate guns with it. *These drills might work really well with crossbows too,* he thought.

As he packed up his gear, the instructor gave him a nod of approval. "You did good today. Seriously I’ve never seen someone so green have such good survival instincts. Keep this up, and you'll be more than ready for whatever comes your way."

*Hahaha! Did he say for whatever comes my way? You know that includes demon dogs, trolls, and literal monstrosities from the deep, right?*

Atlas thanked him, knowing that he still had a long way to go, and was determined to be ready for the next portal and anything else that might stand in his way.

There was one thing standing in his way right now  that he needed to take care of, otherwise it could be disastrous for his plan. As he made his way back to the gym, his mind kept returning to the recruits. He was pushing them hard, perhaps harder than they’d ever been pushed before, but it was necessary. They had to be more than just fighters; they had to be survivors, strategists, and, most importantly, they had to trust each other.

*Trust,* Atlas mused as he walked, *is the one thing that will get us through whatever hell those portals throw at us.  And that trust would only come from facing challenges together. Trust would come from knowing that when the time came, they could rely on a teammate to watch their backs.*

Back at the gym, Atlas found Alicia going over some notes. She looked up as he entered, raising an eyebrow at the sight of him still covered in sweat and grime from the range. "You look like you’ve been through the wringer," she commented with a smirk.

Atlas shrugged, a grin playing at his lips. "Just making sure I’m ready for anything. How’s the team holding up?"

"They’re tough, but they’re not invincible," Alicia replied, her tone serious. "I’m pushing them hard because I know they can handle it, but they’re close to their breaking points. We’ll see how they fare tomorrow."

Atlas nodded, understanding the weight of her words. "Good. We need them at their best. There’s no room for weakness."

Alicia frowned slightly, studying him. "You’re really taking this seriously, aren’t you? I’ve seen you push yourself before, but this… this is different."

Atlas met her gaze, his expression unwavering. "Because this is different. What we’re preparing for isn’t just another fight. It’s life or death, and I’m not about to let anyone on this team go in unprepared."

Alicia seemed to sense the gravity in his words, though she couldn’t fully understand it. She still believed that Atlas was building this team for the Society of Creative Battle gym, unaware of the true stakes. But she trusted him, and that was enough.

"Alright," she said finally. "Let’s make sure they’re ready. No holding back."

"None," Atlas agreed. He turned his attention back to the recruits, watching as they packed up their gear and headed out for the night. He knew that tomorrow would be a crucial day—a day that would test their resolve and determine who had what it took to be part of this.


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