"Shut up," I muttered, already feeling my lungs tighten just from the thought of running.
Here's the thing: ten kilometers is six miles. Six. Do you know the last time I ran six miles back on Earth? Never. Absolutely never. I once ran for the bus two blocks down and had to pretend I was just "admiring the architecture" while wheezing my soul out on the sidewalk.
And now this war hero, this mountain of scars and muscle, expected me to jog around like some kind of marathon champion? Not happening.
Still… I forced my legs to move. The alternative was standing still, and standing still under that man's gaze felt like volunteering for execution.
Step one: run. Step two: don't die. Step three: … actually, there was no step three.
The line of students surged ahead, their boots pounding the dirt rhythmically. Some were grinning, already treating it like a race. A few even shouted encouragement to each other, which was disgusting, frankly.
