Legacy // H.S

9.

'I got power in my hands and it's yours for the taking'

*

The halls are quiet as I leave the jewel room, everyone either downstairs or bustling into the training suites to witness a good fight. Harry quickly went downstairs to check with Liam if any footage from our previous activities needed to be removed, while I make my way to the session alone.

As I arrive, the energy is high, though I suspect it will remain that way as we move full speed ahead with our heists. It was something I noticed when I first arrived today, the sudden break from our troubled days apparent as the crowds of workers chattered and cheered. Amongst them I notice the same gleam in their eye we all held before everything became messy. An ambitious drive to pull off the impossible. A subtle naivety that convinces you you're the king of the world.

None of us are kings, though. We're still the subjects, still fighting and rioting against the corrupt elite. Hugo likes to think he's the ruler, but he's just another tyrannical lord trying to assume power. All the history books will tell you those types of people never win. I just hope it follows the same pattern this time.

It's hard to even see the area the group surrounds, too many heads blocking my vision as I try to push through, but I hear the echo of an Irish accent, and I know where to head. Towards the centre of the room is a circular matt, the same dotted around the perimeter a few times too. In the middle stands Babz and Claude, already stretching and preparing for a demonstration.

I reach Niall, giving him a nod as Zayn is seated next to me. He turns to me with a grin, eyes focusing on the minute details of my appearance. I shake my head and wait for the comments. Of course, he can tell.

He clears his throat in an attempt to stifle a laugh, but it fails. 'You look a bit tired, Atlas. You feeling alright?' he teases, nudging me with his elbow. Across the circle, Babz notices us and smirks as her eyes move to my hair and the trails of sweat that have cleared streaks of makeup away.

I bite my lip. 'Feeling just fine, Zayn. Why do you ask?'

He turns to me with a raised brow. 'Seem a bit hot. And dishevelled. Maybe have a lay down before you train.'

My arms cross over my chest. 'It was a lot of work in the diamond cases. Was bound to find myself slightly... messy.'

He almost chokes on his breath, then leans in closer. 'Word of advice, next time you fuck in a public space, make sure you look in a mirror before leaving the room.'

'Noted.'

'And be a bit quieter,' he adds with a wink.

Guess our attempts failed. 'I'll bear that in mind.'

'Harry, oh god. Your fingers, Harry. You feel so-' I hit his leg before he can finish, his lips folding into his mouth as he feels the pain radiate through his body. It was a low blow to attack an injured man, but the entire point of today's session is to learn the best techniques when defeating an opponent. I'm simply practising.

Once the pair in front of us are ready, Claude claps his hands and asks for silence. He nods to a few other visitors as they enter the room, then begins. 'Most of you in this room know how to fight, and I'm certain at this point all of you have had to. But considering the opponents we find ourselves up against, I feel it best to brush up on our skills.' He leans forward to pick up a bottle of water on the floor, taking a large sip before speaking once more. 'These past few months for Henri's team have been difficult. They have lost many. It's time we help them fight back. It's time we assist them in overpowering the people that seek to hurt them.'