//------------------------------//
// Cranking It Up a Notch 
// Story: My Son, My Soldier, My Hero 
// by That_Random_Pony 
//------------------------------//


"Brother… wake up. Reku'un!"

Draco jumped up with a fright, wildly looking around the room. "J-Jerosh? What is it?" He panted, wiping away a bit of sweat on his forehead.

"Get your armor on, and meet me in the upper levels," Jerosh said.

Bringing his legs over the side of the bed, Draco rubbed his eyes softly and glanced at the clock above his bed. "It's 2 in the morning, Jerosh," Draco said. "They haven't woken me up this early—"

"I don't care what they've taught you, Reku'un," Jerosh said in a cold, nonchalant tone. "Arm yourself, and get to the upper level."

It was only now that Draco realized Jerosh was in his own battle armor, and that he had various weapons on him. His eldest brother walked out, and he slowly started pulling on his armor. All sorts of thoughts were racing through his mind, especially since Jerosh looked ready for war. 

Was there some sort of attack? No, there would be alarms and Signa like no tomorrow. Some sort of drill? Probably. Training? He was leaning towards it. Jerosh was the only one who hadn't spent much time training him. It would explain why they were waking up so early.

His armor clicked as the living metal locked over the back of his head. Loki'irian armor was much more comfortable and powerful than anything he'd ever worn before. The intelligent armor contorted to his form, and it could become partially-sentient,should he need it to. It couldn't talk, but it was listening and waiting for his command whenever he wasn't wearing it. For now, he kept it linked to his spine, which it drilled into for maximum efficiency. 

Slinging his blade over his shoulder, he ran out of his room and to the entrance of the tree. Nyla was waiting, and she groggily groaned as he mounted up.

Who's idea was this?

Jerosh's. I'm still not sure what he needs.

It's probably another training course. They've all been pushing you, as of late.

I know. It's just strange that he wants me to wear my armor.

Just listen, Reku'un.

She took flight, getting above the canopy of the forest and soaring to the entrance to the ship's exterior infrastructure. He stepped off Nyla's saddle and let the monitor scan him before the door slid open. To his surprise, there weren't any Signa or regulars roaming the halls. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his boots clunking against the metal floor, which resounded throughout the halls.

To the side, he could see the stars of space flickering their last lights as the dawn readied to brighten the sky. Below… he could see all of Equestria. Canterlot… Ponyville… And even a few parts of the Dragon Kingdom.

The sliding door brought back his attention, and he entered the lift. He dialed in the code for the upper most level, and the doors closed quickly before the lift shot up. After stopping abruptly, the doors opened, and Draco walked out. The only thing on the level was a door at the end of a hall. There was literally nothing else. Just the metal door at the end of the white hallway. 

This must be it, I guess.

Draco hesitantly gripped the handle of the door, and turned it. He opened it slowly, just enough to slip in. The room was… empty. It was bright… cool… and just devoid of any sort of equipment or obstacle for any sort training. 

The door slammed shut behind him, and a series of clicks and gears turning boomed throughout the room. The sound of metal slamming into the ground made him spin around and look at the form in the center of the room. 

"Jerosh?"

His brother stood up, his height and armor serving to make him look menacing and heroic all at once. 

"Je—" 

Draco's voice caught, turning into a hoarse groan as he felt all the air in his lungs leave quickly. Metal cracked and bent around his stomach, where Jerosh's fist had landed. More groans of metal sounded as he pulled his fist away, and Draco fell to his hands and knees. His breathing came harsh and forced, blood pooling in his mouth and trickling down his nostrils. Before he could cough, Jerosh's foot rocketed into his face, sending him tumbling away. He viciously rolled like a rag doll until the wall stopped him, a kinetic barrier bouncing him back. 

"Ngh… ngh… GAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Draco screamed as he felt his shattered jaw and fractured ribs throbbing in anguish. Several of his ribs were jutting into his lungs, and they themselves were mashed to a pulp. Jerosh's hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him up. 

"You have to be ready for anything."

Jerosh pulled a stiletto-like dagger from his side and jammed it into Draco's stomach. His little brother cried out in agony, blood forcing him into a fit of coughs. His arm struck at Jerosh's helmet, slightly dazing him. Draco pulled the blade out of his torso and reached for his Daedalak. Jerosh quickly pulled a trio of miniature knives from his waist and beamed them into Draco's arm, piercing his forearm and hand and pinning him to the wall. 

"You have to adapt!"

Jerosh pulled a hammer from his back, much bigger than Derekosh's, and swung it in a full 360° motion, ramming it right into his chest. Draco's screams echoed in his own ears as his torso collapsed, battering him even more. He did the same motion again, and again, and again, until blood was weeping out from his body. His rites healed his fractured jaw, but the constant hits to his body was keeping his rites suppressed. 

Before the next hit landed, Draco pulled his head forward and headbutted his older brother. Willing his body out of the mold in the wall, he tackled Jerosh and grabbed a pair of blades from his back, then rolled off and slashed. Jerosh rose an arm, the armor standing no chance, but his rites caused the bone to shatter the metal swords. As he finished his arc, Jerosh brought his opposite fist up to uppercut Draco as powerfully as he could. 

The hit broke his jaw once again, and sent him sailing across the room. 

"You can't let up! Not for a second!"

Draco twirled back, planted his feet on the wall, and sprung towards Jerosh with his Daedalak in hand. His anger had morphed into a need to survive and fight. As he lunged forward, his chest rapidly regenerating, Jerosh drew his personal blade and leaped to meet him. Just a foot away from each other, Jerosh leaned back, dodging Draco's attempt to slash at him. His older brother brought his foot up into his chin, sending him straight into the ceiling. Jerosh recovered mid-air and zoomed after his target. 

He slammed into Draco with both fists, breaking apart the last of the armor over his chest. Grabbing him by the throat, Jerosh reached behind his back and forcefully ripped the armor off. Draco's bloodcurdling screams reverberated off the walls, but they ceased once he hit the ground. His blue blade clattered at his side when it landed, and he did his best to get his hand over the handle.

"You can't give in. No matter how much you're hurting. No matter how many limbs you're missing. You must fight until you have no breath in your body. Until all your blood has spilled, and until you feel Minira's embrace in Eden."

Draco once again yelled in anguish as Jerosh's blade dug into his center, straight down to the hilt. Then…

…silence.

Jerosh pulled his sword out from his brother's body, then kicked him over. He could see Draco's jaw was still dislocated and broken, along with a collapsed rib cage and his wound to his chest. Blood masked his face and pooled on the floor beneath him, while some had already stained his fabric. He turned Draco over once again and looked at the exposed spinal disk, which was where he'd torn out the armor's neural interface. The boy wasn't dead, he'd made sure of that. He was just unconscious… and battered beyond all hell. And his energy was at an all-time low. Even his regenerative abilities weren't fixing the damages.

"Rest, Reku'un," he sighed softly, getting his arms under the young Signa. With a small heave of effort, he lifted him up. "This is only your first day, after all."