Whoever had thought that the inside of a Gravitron was discomforting with the higher gravity setting he had available, one-hundred and thirty times Earth gravity, or the minimalist decor to save room for the training environment, hadn't had to deal with this dragon inside one. His power-level holding steady at his maximum with the weighted clothing he had donned had almost given him an excuse to re-acquaint himself with what should have been a familiar environment from previous experience. The gravity pulling down upon his being had made him feel as though he were rooted to the ground like an oak, almost unmoving without requiring him to, begrudgingly and almost embarrassingly, exert effort. Not much was needed though for his current activity. He had decided to first reacquaint himself with the retractable wall-mounted mattress that had he so neglected to use during his first session with the laughable training he had undergone.
The feel of the mattress was vaguely familiar with the soft linen sheets encroaching upon his form, slowly sinking into the soft fabrics that made what he could only consider to be a humanitarian bliss which he was starting to almost envy being so readily available, yet neglected to be used or appreciated for so long. While the comfort was incredible it was an odd feeling almost, the monstrous pull of gravity made him feel as though he were being swallowed by nothing but soft fluff, becoming more and more comfortable with the increased compression of the bed making a stiffer surface for his body to lay at rest.
Though there is a time to rest and a time to train, unfortunately for the Dragon fighter. He had to become more acquainted with the high gravity environment. Taking no pleasure in the fact he was beginning, and with no shown enthusiasm, he placed his arms on the bed and pushed himself up to a sitting position and swinging his legs over the side of the mattress, resting his hands on the edges gently cupping the edges. His hands, even with the gentle grasp he was trying to achieve, pressed firmly against the material due to the gravitational multiplier inside this environment.
With both feet feeling as though they were rooted to the floor beneath him he took a moment to reflect on his current condition. His feet, though armored, still gave him the distinct feel of the chill of the bare, metallic surface upon which he would soon abuse with the rigors of his training. The air in the area was frigid, slightly discomforting but tolerable, just barely outside his comfort zone. While the temperatures were satisfactory the humidity was excellent. The moisture in the air was rather high but it eliminated any environmental condition that would cause dryness or any irritation, keeping his body well conditioned and one less issue to be dealt with at a later time.
Raising himself from what he would consider a confine, the bedding that he had grown so fond of for the past hour while letting his body adjust to the abrupt gravitational changes, he had started to make his way around the inside perimeter of the Gravitron. Step by step, taking no long strides to satisfy his eagerness to get started with his real training, he continued. One foot after another, the recessed kitchen and resting area causing no hindrance or disruption in his trek around this personal sanctum. The effects of the gravity was unfathomable, when he had first enabled this mode it had taken him minutes to adjust to even breathing properly rather than the shallow, quick breathes. Even with the over-oxygenated environment his muscles were feeling starved of energy; his body still adapting to the extreme conditions he had decided to involve himself with.
Step by step he continued falling into his rhythmical pattern of walking, his pace had become rather brisk over the course of a few minutes. His body weigh heavily on his thighs, his back, all to keep him erect. While this was great skeletal-muscular training it would also benefit his admittedly lacking posture when he typically comes to be overly relaxed. His calves burned, the acids from the slow muscular decay caused by the effort entering his blood stream to be recycled, or done away with depending on whether his body decided it had a use. The cool surface of the floor was becoming rather comfortable underfoot, concentrating on the feel in his relaxed state to void his mind of any wandering thoughts. The cool feel of the tiled surface seemed to radiate up through his body, flowing slowly and eliminating the feel of the muscular fatigue he had been consciously enduring just a short while ago. The chill was welcomed to the burning sensation his each muscle of his body, the similarities of his sensation and touching ice against a warm mass darting coming to mind.
The walk had become mind-numbing, a repetitive action serving little purpose but stretched out just to delay the inevitable coming training, the reason he had set up this session. Not feeling particularly engaged with the exercise in this gravity he had begun with. The allure of a more engaging exercise had become almost overbearing, his mind demanding a change in the current activity. The dreary, boring walk had certainly done what he intended though. He felt acclimated with the newer conditions.In this short duration of time spent adjusting to the environment with such base movements and adjustments he felt rather well, almost as though he were operating in Earths normal atmosphere at base sea level conditions.
Bringing himself to a stop he once again felt as though he were rooted to the surface, no longer bringing his feet onto the ground as though each weighed a ton. The steps were lithe, given his size and girth in total each movement he made was on par with an acrobat under their best circumstances. Flowing from one position to the next seeming to glide now as he was drawn to the center of the room, taking his stance in the center his body aligned along an empty section of the domed wall.H His body was still, shoulders slouched and drawn forward with his arms hanging lose, bent slightly at the elbow in its natural position. Both legs were straight, legs shoulder-width apart with knees locked to keep his stability. His body as erect and unmoving as a statue for a moments notice. Head declined to face the floor and eyes closed he brought his hands to his chest, holding them apart the distance of the breadth of his hands. Both hands cupped he began to let his mind wander, void of any direct thought. Wary of his surroundings only in his primitive brain, his first-developed awareness, the primal instincts of his kind becoming very outwardly expressed by the unconscious flaring of the nostrils, the innate contempt for all others shown by a snarl drawing at the corners of his lips.
Between his hands there began a pulsing, no distinguishable form to the energy being formed but it was surely felt. For every beat his slowing heart made there was another sudden pulsating feel from the form in between his hands, the effect felt like a cool shockwave on his palms, sending chilled sensations throughout his arms, becoming less intense as the feeling radiated upwards to his torso. With the slowing of his heart each pulse became more intense, focusing the energy into a single point. Still motionless, he was entirely devoted to this exercise, manipulating his Ki energy. Having made no movements, no budges, only working on condensing more and more of his Ki energy into the space.
Time itself lost meaning to his waning senses, losing himself in his meditative state. He continued with his unrelenting stance, a seemingly pointless exercise. There was no sense of fatigue in his limbs, his body seeming almost too receptive with the adaptions it had to make to be able to tolerate these conditions even with his power level, though restricted due to the weighted clothing. The condensed Ki finally took shape in his hands as an almost perfect sphere, a light shade of deeply saturated red among the surface only contrasted by the brilliant, pure white at its core which outshone the edges with its intensity, making the colors take a soft transition to pink along the edges of the color gradient.
Though small in its size its shine was brilliant, thick rays of light emitted at close, but random intervals in random directions outwards from the core, the reflection off the glossed interior surface of the Gravitron doing justice to the brilliance of what shone. The light, however, was fading. Diminishing in radiance as the sphere itself shrunk in size until it faded from sight between his hands. Slowly his eyes began to open, his arms dropping to his sides in a controlled manner. Drawing his shoulders back and straightening his back he took a more upright posture, his figure showing dominance, control, power over others.
With his quick meditation session complete he did naught but raise his head to be level with the ground, darting his eyes around the room for further ideas on how to continue his training. What struck his attention immediately was the training dummy resembling the black, human cop. Apart from that mounted several feet above his own height on the wall was a wide pull-up bar, below it in a slightly recessed area two parallel bars. The material the equipment was made out of was foreign to him, but, the matte black surface looked to be smooth and free of any minor, irritating protrusions which would make his training that much more tolerable for what it was worth.
Making his way to the section of the Gravitron to his right which was sectioned off for the pullup bar and parallels he had already made up his mind. Calisthenics were a favored method of training that he was already accommodated to, making use of his own body weight with movements that emphasized natural movements, most of which were also beneficial to his speed, stability, as well as endurance and muscular strength. Affixing his eyes on the bar that was held far above his head he proceeded to raise his arms in a controlled manner, stretching upwards even extending his fingers as far as they would go. The bar still out of reach by a foot he jumped, even in gravity of this magnitude his calves could act like heavily loaded springs, rocketing him off his forefeet into the air. The pull of the gravity felt to multiply instantly as his body left the ground, he did not fail though. His grasp of the bar was firm, both palms facing outward.
The first repetition of the exercise felt almost brutal as the latissimus dorsi muscles were immediately put under the stress of trying to raise his body in these conditions, the sides of his torso flaring out large enough giving the appearance he could glide if he were to fall with the spread of the muscles. With the upward movement, the downward pull, the muscles squeezed and in response grew in size visibly with the effort of the movement. Reaching the top of the movement, his chin clearing the bar, he squeezed the engaged muscles, maximizing the efforts with the prolonged hold at the top. Lowering himself was a slow, prolonged process. A quick movement downwards is easy due to the pull of gravity, resisting that pull by decreasing the descent rate is almost torture. The descent seemed to take him ages, his body felt about to burst with just this first descent. There was no need to rush himself, however, the ever-increasing dull pain that radiated from his upper arms was taking more and more of his effort to drown out. This process continued, each and every full repetition taking longer than the last, his descents becoming quicker. Keeping true to his form, and his stubbornness, he continued the exercise. Every moment became mind numbing, roaring pain from each and every muscle that was recruited to assist with the movement in an effort to keep going.
Beads of sweat were secreting from every pore on his body, trails running down the contours of his figure. His skin had taken a darker hue with the increased oxygenation along with the increased heat generated by his body due to the workout, body working exponentially harder to rid itself of unwanted, unneeded byproducts of the workload. The skeletal-muscular stress was causing his body to reach its physical limitations, the pain in his larger muscle groups only exceeded by the dull roar of agony that spread amongst his smaller stabilizing muscles. A single pull up and he was already exhausted, it was almost shameful. The conditions were difficult enough for a normal living to feel as though it were a highly intense workout under normal gravitational conditions. Even still, his pride was from the lack of demonstrative ability in the current conditions.
Letting his fingers roll off, releasing his grip from the bar after lowering himself down to the maximum extent of his reach, he made no smooth landing on the ground. His feet hitting first, causing his knees to bend and his back to arch to keep himself from falling over. It was hard enough to be moving before hand without the feeble attempt at training. Raising to his full stance he turned to face the recessed built-in living quarters, making his way over on legs that felt as durable as twigs. His movements becoming less than graceful, his posture with the arched over back only slightly exaggerating the way he felt at the moment. The soft mattress was enticing, his mind twisting the comfort that the bedding gave him almost perverting the pleasures of resting on the soft and delicate material.
No, it'd have to wait. While taking in the remarkable sight of the beautiful resting pad he also took notice of the other training apparatus he was fond of, the black cop figure that was stuck on a cross, his training dummy, that was held in another slightly recessed chamber in the wall. It ached, and it was a stressful effort to even continue rather than resting on his materialistic lover, the oh so delicate, lovable mattress pad. Taking a stance in front of the training dummy he exhaled, letting his body relax as much as he could allow without becoming unstable under the over bearing gravitational field. Poised, ready, he sent his first strike. His right leg was quickly chambered, extending his left glute to allow his right leg to strike at the dummy's head. The blow landed hard, the dummy's rotating head spinning circles from the impact, a chunk of it's right cheek missing and having the same consistency of ripped flesh. Drawing his leg down quickly he followed up instantly with a left twist of his torso, driving his fist home into the chest of the figure. Withdrawing his hand quickly he took satisfaction with the cavity that remained in place of hist fist, expanding upon the indention with his left hand, striking with the palm to the immediate left of the last location. The semblance of the expanded cavity was almost that of a hammer, the length of his palm connecting with the square indention of his hand in the chest of the dummy. That was it, he needed a break. The gravity had taken its toll on his body and there was a definite need for rest.
"Gravitron, times thirty gravitational multiplier." The environmental change was gradual, the pressure slowly being taken off his aching limbs. His bodily awareness was hardly what it should be, each and every individual muscle was numbed from exertion giving him little feedback for use with his body's spacial awareness incredibly limited only receiving input from what he saw his with eyes. The blissful pad of heaven was just beyond him, with his sweating body glistening, sweat soaked clothing, he stumbled forward to topple onto the padding. The bliss that overcame him was almost on par with what it was like with a great night spent with an anal-loving prostitute, an accommodation he would need to acquire soon. Crawling, and slowly, dragging the entirety of his being sluggishly onto the bed he came to rest, power level enough to accomodate survival in the lowered gravitational pull, though still well above Earths own. Very quickly he fell into a dreamless slumber, resting for the training that would come tomorrow.
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