*It was just past 3 AM, and the Ordo Dracul Chapter House was deserted, save for its overseer and his Ghoul. Samantha was already in bed, sound asleep; leaving Max alone on the second floor.

The lights in the Chapter House’s modest gym were on, the sounds of a vigorous workout muffled somewhat by the heavy wooden door Max had closed on his way in. He had stripped down to just the faded blue jeans he habitually wore in the Chapter House; his shoes, socks, and shirt thrown haphazardly into a pile in one corner of the room.

Max was busy laying into a well-used mu ren zhuang that was set in the opposite end of the gym. He was bare-fisted; if it was good enough for Jack Dempsey, it was good enough for Max. He had worked up quite a sweat already, this one of the few times Max would allow himself to indulge in a pointless waste of Blood. There was just something pleasingly visceral in the way his unaging body reacted to the physical exertion; his breathing a little harder than usual. His motions were cold and calculated; a repetition of blows that by now had become route in the Grand Wyrm’s muscle memory.

He told himself he came down here because of his conversation with Callum at the last Court; that he was getting himself back in shape for more training. But he knew that wasn't the real reason, and it wasn't long before a familiar voice began speaking to Max from the dark recesses of his mind.

The voice wasn't his own; it belonged to an old man. Deep and powerful, with a distinct middle-eastern twang; it was a voice only Max could hear, his own private tormentor…* Well, that’s another one gone, I see…

*Max took a step back, and used the back of a hand to wipe the sweat from out of his eyes.* At least this one was nice enough to tell me goodbye… *He answered back to the man that wasn't there.*

Yes, but it wasn't a kiss goodbye…

Yea, well… *Max drove himself forward, dodging one of the wooden arms that protruded from the training dummy. He rammed his elbow down on another of the training tool’s “arms”, then drove his other arm forward in an open palm strike where the dummy’s head should have been, all in one fluid motion.

He stepped back once again, and reset his stance.* We didn't have that kind of relationship…

You could have… *The disembodied voice replieds, as nonchalantly as if it were discussing the recent weather.*

I tried that. She seemed… underwhelmed, remember? *Max says, thinking back to an uninspiring kiss from months ago. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he went in for another attack.

He came straight towards one of the out-stretched arms of the dummy, pivoting on a heel just as its blunted end touched his chest. He continued the motion into a full circle his left elbow making contact with the top of the wooden post where the head should be.*

Of course she was, because you’re weak. Women are drawn to powerful men, confident men. Look who she was drawn to…

*Another retreat, another resetting of stance; Max was beginning to breath harder now.* Yea, a man I gave my full confidence to do his job. Then he walks out in the middle of a Clan meeting…

So now we’re going to add “outstanding judge of character” to your list of skills, Maxey?

*The thin Mekhet snarled as he rushed in this time. He turned his body to slip sideways between the outstretched arms of the mu ren zhuang, and shoved his shoulder in the area that corresponded to the chest of the wooden dummy. His right arm wrapped around the midsection of one of the wooden arms in an immobilizing grip, Max then rotated to drive his left elbow into the side of his target; pressing his back to the smooth front of the training dummy.

He lowered his head, then drove it back into the area where the head should be. His head exploded in a cacophony of pain, stars flashing behind the Grand Wyrm’s eyes. He staggered away this time, and shook his head to try and clear away some of the fog that clouded his mind. A real attacker wouldn't wait for him to recover, and Max does his best to keep up the attack, even if his stance was markedly sloppier this time.*

Tracy doesn’t seem to mind my flaws… *He answers back.*

All the more reason not to trust her…

Who says I trust her? *Max says, though it came out a bit more angrily than he intended.

Another attack, Max slapped away first one wooden arm then another. He brought a knee up into the wooden dummy’s crotch; his hands came together and balled up into a fist for a two hand overhead strike to the head. * Maxey, don’t lie to me, it just makes you look stupid. Remember that I’m in here with you; I know what you know, even when you won't admit it to yourself. And I have a vested interest in keeping you alive. So please, just try to be a little dubious if she suggests bringing knives into the bedroom?

*Max stepped back from the training dummy once again, this time he paused to finally catch his breath. He had suddenly lost the will to continue his practice, and turned away to gather his clothes. He had only taken a step or two away when his Sire’s voice spoke again.*

Oh, that’s right; you like knives in your foreplay. You have Elanah to thank for that, don’t you?

*Max couldn't see Aziz’ face, but he knew his dead Sire was smiling in that condescending way he’d always had when he knew he had pressed Max’s buttons.

The Grand Wyrm bellowed in rage. He had refrained from using his full strength on the dummy, but now he didn't hold back. Vitae pumped through his veins, granting the thin Mekhet inhuman power. He rushed the dummy one final time, snapping the wooden arms off like they were twigs on a sapling.

When he had nothing left to break, Max grabbed the wooden dummy and threw it across the gym with a snarl. It flew through the air, head-first into the opposite wall; digging into the drywall and forming a semi-circular indent before it crashed to the floor with a thunderous bang.

Max finally regained his composure, panting hard from the exertion as he surveyed the damage he’d caused. He waited to see if Aziz had anything else to say; but the disembodied voice had finally fell silent in his head. He sighed softly, suddenly feeling completely drained and spent. He side-stepped the broken mu ren zhuang and collected his clothes. It looked like he wouldn't be getting any more training in that night, and he needed a shower…*