My Future Self Is Ruining My Life! 53 This Is Atlas.

"No! Absolutely not!", Jeremy angrily responded. Quickly, he calmed himself before continuing.

"Sorry, this isn't your fault. While I do have rights here, ultimately the Atlas centers fall under my uncle's control, and he has been more than a little annoyed with the work that I'm doing in other s.p.a.ces. It seems he's decided to punish me by making things harder for me in little ways. Still, there's only so far he can go, and you can bet this isn't the last he's heard from me on it!" Jeremy's face started to get a little red as his anger rose, and Michael realized that his normally happy-go-lucky friend had a serious side to him, after all. Soon, Jeremy stifled his fury and continued after letting out a deep breath. "Don't worry about it, I'll make sure this doesn't blow back on you. Still, I should explain the challenger program."

Their footsteps echoed down a pristine marble hall. The walls were lined with dark gla.s.s, and door panels could be seen s.p.a.ced intermittently along both sides. Michael could occasionally hear faint, m.u.f.fled sounds of activity from the other side of the walls as Jeremy proceeded to explain.

"First, it probably makes sense to show you some of what Atlas has to offer. Let's start with Archery, since that is an interested of yours." Michael followed his friend through a set of sliding doors and into a large atrium. An artificial sky shone down from the ceiling, and the center displayed a large statue of a man holding up a globe surrounded by a pool of water.. Tables littered the area where gymgoers sat chatting and drinking and eating items served from. nearby counter. A series of hallways peppered the walls like spokes from a wheel, and Jeremy led him down a hallway to the left marked with a bullseye symbol on the wall above.

Soon, they came to a long window displaying an archery range on the other side. A series of stalls, mostly occupied, lined the floor closest to the hallway, each containing am embedded screen on the wall of the stall. At the end of the range stood a series of targets, and men and women could be seen firing their arrows down the range or pressing b.u.t.tons on the screen as the targets slowly approached their positions on motorized tracks.

"This is our Silver offering for marksmans.h.i.+p skills - our most basic tier. Users can control the distance of the target and track their progress through a company-wide profile keyed to their badge. It will track the speed, force, and accuracy of each of their shots, and they can see how they improve from session to session. We also allow users to synchronize personal biometric tools if they have them." A hint of pride could be heard in Jeremy's voice as he introduced the various features of the facility.

Michael was noticeably impressed - almost stunned. Somewhat incredulously, he commented. "This is the basic offering?"

Jeremy smirked and started walking further down the hall, leading Michael past a few other similar facilities on each side of the pa.s.sage. Soon, they came across a reflective window inset into the wall, similar to the previous ranges. Jeremy swiped his badge against a small panel next to the surface, and soon the opaque surface turned transparent, revealing a room with a different layout from those seen in the other areas. A single archer stood near the window, facing a half-dozen targets arranged at different distances and positions on the opposite side. At random intervals, one of the targets would light up and the archer would fire, to varying degrees of success.

"Our Gold tier steps it up, with timed sequence and varying speeds allowing customers to train up on a range of targets. They can also adjust the size of valid targets to even further test their accuracy. At the same time, an array of cameras will check form and positioning as well as allowing video playback so you can review your performance."

If Michael had only almost been stunned with the previous room, he was practically floored by the one in front of him. He took a deep breath before commenting. "I can see why you call this the Gold tier!"

Jeremy grinned before showing a complicated expression. "This is nothing. Follow me." He then led Michael further down til the reached the end of the hall, where a single door stood in front of them with a screen displaying the Atlas logo next to it. "This," he introduced as he swiped his badge on the screen, "is our Platinum room."

The screen s.h.i.+fted to show a woman in what looked like a wetsuit standing in the middle of an empty white room. She held a bow with a quiver belted onto her hip as she stood, tense with antic.i.p.ation.

"Just in time," Jeremy commented.

Before Michael had a chance to ask him what he meant, a target appeared on one of the walls. Like lightning, the woman drew and fired at the target as another target appeared on the opposite wall. She quickly spun, drawing once again from her quiver as she did so, before firing at the newly arrived target. Then, she rolled on the ground as an arrow spat out from an angle invisible to the camera hitting her previous position. As she stood, three arrows found their way into her hand, which she quickly fired at three new targets that bloomed on the first wall she'd faced.

"Our Platinum room offers dynamic range scenarios with simulated opponents. You can configure speed, accuracy, aggression, as well as choosing whether or not new targets offer a sound cue either before or as they appear. The same setup is used to train legionaries, auxiliaries, and some top-cla.s.s hunters. Furthermore, Platinum tier comes with a full sensor suit that provides a.n.a.lytics on muscle response and timing, as well as a suite of intelligence tools that offer suggestions for training and form improvements to help users optimize performance. "

By this point, Michael's eyes were as big as saucers. "I... don't think I'm ready for that kind of training. I think the basic tier is just fine for now..."

Jeremy sighed and started walking back down the hall the way they came. "The Platinum tier isn't available for customers under normal circ.u.mstances, anyway. You need recommendations, a sterling reputation, or scads of money. I'd wanted to get you a members.h.i.+p for it, but my uncle's stopped that from happening. Still, there's a chance."

"That Challenger thing you mentioned?", Michael asked as he followed.

"Right. Just because someone is born with a silver spoon or the right connections doesn't mean they'll always succeed, and just because someone comes from nothing doesn't mean they'll not become a champion. The Challenger program was put in place for family members to invest in potential candidates who couldn't otherwise afford the higher tiers. They have to start at Silver and work their way up through certain milestones, as well as internal compet.i.tions against other Challengers for access to promotions and benefits. Furthermore, they have to maintain performance levels within certain timelines, or lose their Challenger status."

Michael frowned. "Seems like a lot just to get better gym equipment."

"It's not just the training rooms. This is only one branch of the gym - there are areas for strength training, hand to hand and melee, speed and agility training, you name it. Gold and Platinum tiers also get access to exclusive instructors, medical and nutrition experts, as well as supplements and other performance enhancing resources. At the top level, there's some stuff that is only available to folks above Platinum Challengers - you literally couldn't buy it if you wanted to. Like I said - elite military and armed forces use our services."

"So why doesn't everyone become a Challenger, then?"

"No way. Each Challenger is an investment, and each family member only has the right to a finite number of candidates. Once a slot has been used up, that's it, regardless of how the candidate does. Also, the performance of Challengers directly reflects on the family member, so people wouldn't just sell them off."

"Reflects how?", Michael asked with no small amount of concern.

"Don't worry about it. I wouldn't have selected you if I wasn't confident," Jeremy quickly responded, dodging the question.

Michael frowned at his friend's response. "I'll do my best."

"That's the spirit! I have absolute faith in you, bud!", Jeremy chuckled as he brought his friend back to the atrium.

After a brief pause, Michael decided to ask the question that had been bugging him since the start of the tour. "I was wondering - you showed me Silver, Gold, and Platinum, but we didn't see Bronze?"

Jeremy snorted in response. "This is Atlas. No one settles for Bronze."