Chapter 126: WILLIAM: Growing Strength
February 15, 177 HE - William Martin.
William didn’t talk after that. He didn’t explain himself. He didn’t try to defend his actions or contemplate whether they were lies, because deep down, he knew they were true. His soul winced and twisted at the remarks of his inner darkness yet accepted it as the truth.
Around him were men of strength. Around him was a place of cultivating strength. A gym with absurd weights that surpassed the boundaries of human potential. Clang! Clang! Clang!
Deadlifts wracked up to thousands of pounds. Despite this being his second visit, William wasn’t too surprised at the level of power. This was the afterlife with gods and demons—of course Olympic records were seen as a joke.
The gym was owned by the Sapphire Order under the jurisdiction of Spectre 3: Frode. William had never seen him but he must have been rich given the quality of equipment. Here, he was able to let loose. Here, he was able to channel the darkness inside him.
’Why can’t I control myself? Why do I always hurt those close to me? Every damn time.’
Inhale, exhale.
At the eastern side was an area for punching bags. Last time, he was too uncomfortable to go for it. This time, it was different. This time, he had frustrations to punch out.
In a black tank top, William drew in a long breath and pivoted on his heel to launch his right fist forward. THUD. The impact echoed through the gym as his knuckles met the resilient surface of the punching bag. There was a raw intensity in that strike, a release of pent-up energy and emotion.
His muscles tensed with each successive punch. Left. Right. Left again. THUD. THUD. THUD. The bag swayed under the force of his blows. Each punch carried the weight of his resolve, a fierce determination to push beyond limits, to conquer obstacles, to prove something, perhaps even to himself.
’I can control myself! I can! I won’t let this darkness take over! I won’t become like Jack!’