A game is never just a game. And a fight is never just a fight, not even a simple training. It was not a fight to death but both males were resolved to win.
Nietzscheans did everything to win something, in war, the victory; in the displaying, the female and in the mate, the offspring.
After some training sessions together, both men knew the advantages and weaknesses of the other. Now they were standing on the mat, bodies tense on guard, trying to predict the next movement.
One of them sniffed, "She is coming." His voice was cultured but somehow it emphasized the dangerous brightness of his eyes.
"I know." The other man mumbled in a deep voice.
The fight began again but this time it was more aggressive. Both nietzschean males were fighting to win and the scent of an attractive woman was a good incentive.
Captain Rebecca Valentine stood in the shadows of the doorframe of the gym, watching the two nietzscheans fighting before her.
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