Chapter 1: The Routine

The doors of Titan Elite Fitness slid open with a quiet hiss, and the scent of polished floors, steel, and faint traces of expensive cologne filled the air. Ethan stepped inside, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted the sleeves of his training jacket. The gym was still empty, just the way he liked it.

The LED panels overhead cast a sterile white glow across the training floor, illuminating racks of high-end equipment and digital interfaces displaying customized workout plans. This wasn’t a place for casual gym-goers. The people who trained here expected results—and they paid for discretion just as much as they paid for performance.

Ethan moved with practiced ease, scanning the space as he made his way toward the main console near the reception desk. His shift didn’t officially start for another thirty minutes, but he liked to get in early. The gym’s AI-assisted training system pulsed to life as he logged in, displaying the schedule for the day.

6:00 AM – Daniel H. (Strength & Mobility)

7:30 AM – Rachel M. (Endurance & Recovery)

9:00 AM – Nathaniel B. (Combat Conditioning)

Ethan’s gaze lingered on the last name before he shut the screen. He didn’t care what his clients did outside of this place, but some names carried weight—the kind that made him careful.

He moved toward the locker rooms, grabbing a fresh towel and a bottle of electrolyte-infused water from the stocked shelves. His routine was simple: arrive, train clients, and leave. It was predictable, structured, controlled.

At least, that was how it was supposed to be.

By the time Daniel Henson arrived, the gym had started to come to life. A few early clients were already working through their routines under the quiet hum of machinery.

"Morning, coach," Daniel greeted, adjusting the sleeves of his compression shirt. He was in his forties, well-built, and disciplined—the kind of man who didn’t waste time.

Ethan gave a nod. "Morning. How’s the shoulder?"

"Better. Mobility’s improving." Daniel rolled his right arm experimentally before stepping toward the free weights. "Think we can push it today?"

Ethan tapped a few commands on his tablet, adjusting the smart resistance settings on the dumbbells Daniel would be using. "We’ll push, but not overdo it. You want results, not injuries."

Daniel smirked. "That’s why I pay you the big bucks."

Ethan didn’t react to the comment. He simply motioned toward the bench, signaling the session had started.

The next hour passed in precise efficiency. Repetitions were counted, adjustments were made, and Daniel moved through his program with the focus of someone accustomed to discipline. Ethan watched carefully, making subtle corrections to his form when necessary.

By the end, Daniel sat on the bench, breathing hard but looking satisfied. "I’ll admit it, Kane—you're not like the other trainers here. No nonsense, no small talk. Just results."

Ethan handed him a towel. "That’s the job."

Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah. The job."

There was something in his tone, but Ethan ignored it. He had learned long ago that people always thought they saw something more in him.

They were wrong.

At least, he wanted them to be.

As the morning passed, the gym filled with familiar faces—some he saw daily, others only on occasion. Conversations were brief, interactions efficient. Titan Elite wasn’t a place for socializing. It was a space designed for those who valued privacy and results.

At precisely 9:00 AM, Ethan stood near the training area, watching as Nathaniel Byrne entered.

The man moved with the controlled precision of someone who had been in high-stress situations before. His posture was too rigid for a corporate executive, too aware for an athlete. He wasn’t bulky, but he was built for speed—lean muscle, sharp reflexes.

Ethan said nothing as Nathaniel set down his bag.

"You ready?" Nathaniel asked, stretching his wrists.

Ethan gave a short nod. "Always."

The session started without pretense. Unlike the others, Nathaniel’s training was different—focused on speed, endurance, and coordination. No unnecessary bulk, just efficiency.

Ethan adjusted the training simulations, activating the holographic combat interface that projected moving targets. Nathaniel flowed through the exercises seamlessly, reacting in real-time as the system adapted.

Halfway through, he glanced at Ethan. "You ever train in real combat, or just the safe version?"

Ethan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he adjusted the settings, increasing the difficulty. Nathaniel smirked but said nothing, focusing back on the exercise.

The session continued in wordless understanding.

And by the time it ended, Ethan knew one thing for certain—Nathaniel wasn’t here just to train.

Later that evening, as Ethan locked up the gym, he felt his phone vibrate.

A private channel. Unregistered number.

For a long moment, he just stared at it.

Then, against his better judgment, he answered.

"Still alive, I see," a voice said, dry and amused.

Ethan’s grip tightened around the phone. "Wrong number."

A chuckle. "Come on, you know that’s not true."

Ethan sighed. "What do you want?"

The voice on the other end hesitated for the first time. Then:

"A name came up. Thought you should know."