"Hey Kay! Let me put some pants on!" Michael grumbled in bass tones, he hulked his frame off of the specially designed extra large, extra thick bed, and pulled on pants that could hold a normal person with room in each leg, and threw on what had originally been a picnic table cloth, converted into a button up, he opened the door, shirt unbuttoned, and still shoving up the sleeves so that the sleeves were up above their elbows. "Sup half pint?" He asked, leaning against his dorms specially designed door frame. He stretched, his joints stiff from sleep, popped loudly.
Connor gathered the kids into the elevator and pressed the button for the thirteenth subbasement, the floor that housed the training rooms. It was standard practice to first feed all new incomers and then take them directly to the large training hall to see how physically fit they were, and test what kinds of and how well developed the kids PK's were. He already had a general idea of fitness, there were some kids that could probably learn to become good soldiers, there were others though, and Connor knew from experience who they were, that would never shed some of their extra fat, and would quickly be shelved by the military as clerks or private sectors, unless they developed serious PKs.