The morning sun cast long golden rays across the vast grounds of Arcadia Academy, bathing the towering structures and open courtyards in a warm glow that marked the beginning of another day filled with discipline and growth. The air still carried the faint chill of early dawn, yet the training fields had already begun to stir with movement as dedicated students pushed themselves before the formal lectures even began.
At the far end of one of the training grounds, a lone figure moved steadily across the stone path.
Luca ran.
His breathing had grown heavy, the steady rhythm of his footsteps echoing faintly against the reinforced surface beneath him. Sweat clung to his skin, tracing slow paths down the sides of his face and neck, his shirt damp from the intensity of repeated exertion.
Yet he did not slow.
