The sunrise over the Celestial Realm painted the training grounds in hues of molten gold and deep crimson, but the beauty felt distant—almost mocking—against the tension crackling in the air.
Jordan stood like a pillar at the center of the expanded arena, arms crossed, his scarred face unreadable in the early light. The kids formed a loose line before him, still sore from yesterday but carrying a new kind of fire in their eyes. Eon stood slightly forward, the others flanking him in the formation they'd begun calling "the Anchor."
"Yesterday was survival," Jordan said, voice carrying across the grounds with that familiar weight. "Today we build synergy. The old cycles don't care how strong you are alone. They break the isolated first. Link your strengths. Eon provides the foundation. The rest of you become the frame that holds it together."
Kairn rolled his shoulders, cracking his knuckles with a grin that didn't quite hide his nerves. "No pressure or anything."
