InsaneJournal

Illya had tried to keep his wits about him ever since arriving here, but he still had no idea if this was real or not. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if this all was setup somehow by the government. Maybe he was under the influence of some sort of drug? He knew that the Russian government was experimenting with LSD, usually on their agents unsuspectingly. This could all be one huge trip. Either way, it was some sort of test that he knew he must pass.

He was relieved to get his guns back, though with the warning that if he used them on anyone he'd spend time in the brig. Honestly, he had no intention of shooting anyone unless he felt that threatened. In the unlikely event that this was real, Illya thought it would be best to maintain his cover until he established a sense of what was going on here. Until then, he was an architect from Moscow, albeit one who carried around a concealed Makarov pistol.

Despite keeping up appearances, he also needed to keep up his physicality, so he spent a lot of time in the gym. Mostly he lifted weights, but today he was working at the punching bag. It wasn't the same as sparring with an actual partner, but he had to keep a low profile. An architect who also happened to be a champion at sambo was pretty rare.

A women walked into the gym and Illya nodded politely at her before going back to the punching bag. He smacked at it, partially wanting to rip it off the chains that held it to the ceiling, and partially not wanting to draw that much attention to himself.