Air rushed around him. The room whirled, spinning in time with his movements. He breathed slowly, controlling every breath- conserving every movement. He gritted his teeth, and moved faster. His limbs were blurred, each action methodical and thought out. His eyes narrowed, watching imaginary enemies fall to every move. He remembered this. How he’d loved the thrill of battle, the meeting of opponents on the field. That moment when he stared into the enemy’s eyes and knew that one of them wasn’t going to leave alive. When he got to see which of the two of them was truly deserving of life.
He remembered fighting shoulder-by-shoulder with his comrades, his family. He knew every one of those faces; they had been his friends, those he trusted with his life. Those he trusted to stand and die with him. And the man he trusted most, who he always gave the most important tasks to- who he even planned their battles with- standing by his side. Samuel.
Thane turned and punched the wall with all his strength. The sound of his impact reverberated throughout the row of cells he was in. A grim smile slowly plastered itself on his face.
Jacob Oliver Constantine, codename: Thane, stood up and loosened his muscles. The time had nearly arrived. He’d felt it a few months ago, in his gut. It was deep, and certain. He would be a free man soon. He was going to get out of this cesspit. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know when. But it would happen.
That was why he’d been practising sword fighting for months, every moment of every waking hour. That was why he’d been exercising, moving, getting used to the body he was in. Because, before he’d been thrown into this hellish prison, he’d been severely weakened. Limiters had been placed on his cybernetics, disrupting the flow of thought to them. He had moved slowly, difficultly, without any strength. It had been a humiliating experience for him.
So he had moved faster. And it had been painful, mind-numbingly so. Limiters were designed to stop you from moving quickly; acting against them had been agonising. But he had carried on, out of sight of the guards. And slowly, ever so slowly, his mind began to re link with his cybernetics. He began to move normally again. He began to fight back against the limiters.
And now, finally, he was nearly complete. After months of work, he felt normal again, able to move without the constraints of man-made dampeners or human flesh. He hadn’t been noticed. No one was supposed to be able to fight the limiters. No one expected anyone to. And besides, Jacob was not considered the highest of threats; take away his sword, and he became nothing but a normal man. A normal, cyborg man.
He turned back to his prison and sat down on the concrete floor. His cell was extremely Spartan .He wasn't allowed any furniture; it was deemed too dangerous- after all, a bedframe could be turned into a sword, if you squinted at it. Unfortunately, this included entertainment. There were no televisions or radios in Jacob’s cell. But if he was honest with himself, Thane didn't mind the austerity of his room. It provided no distractions. It kept him focused on escaping.
Jacob clenched his fist. He got up, and began practising fencing again, moving faster and faster and faster. Soon he would be out of here. Soon he would be in the fresh air again. Soon he would be fighting.