The only noise within the mostly empty gym is the sound of your grunts after every rep. Maintaining your physique in between missions is difficult, particularly as a Spartan-III; but nothing is ever easy. Sweat beads down your temple while you give the barbell one last rep, slowly lifting it and setting it on the rack.
Your chest slowly expands and contracts with each heavy breath as you sit up on the workout bench. Your bicep, tricep, and forearm muscles all ache for a minute before becoming dull. When you rise from the bench and walk over to your workout towel, the door to the gym slides open with an electric whir.
Turning, you see a tall woman duck under the already high door frame as she enters. Oil covers the surface of her tan skin, with scars dotting the exposed muscular surface. A pair of spartan-issued athletic shorts hug her pelvis and well-built thighs with a tight-fitting sports bra around her torso.
The door seals behind her and she slowly looks around, studying her surroundings with a careful gaze. Soon enough, her eyes fall upon you and briefly brighten.
"Oh, a Spartan-III," she says in a demeaning tone, her eyes casually studying you. "vat are you doingkt here?"
"Working out." you sigh, massaging the ache in your left bicep. "And who are you?"
"Me?" she places a hand on her chest as she adopts a dimpled grin. "People kall me Chosi. I'm a Spartan-II."
Chosi sticks out her hand to shake,