Alectra and I stood toe to toe in the center of the private training dome on the academy's restricted eastern grounds, our eyes locked in a fierce gaze that crackled with competitive energy.
The early morning light filtered through the reinforced mana barriers overhead, casting long shadows across the smooth stone floor.
We wore matching black tracksuits threaded with subtle gold embroidery—practical, flexible, and a silent nod to the Nekros legacy that bound us.
The fabric whispered with every slight shift in posture, ready for whatever punishment the day demanded.
To the sides, three observers sat on reinforced benches. Kent lounged on the left, my ever-reliable friend with that perpetual mischievous grin, fiddling with a small fork he'd somehow smuggled in.
Rentt occupied the center seat, Belle's adopted brother and now technically my brother-in-law through Alectra, watching with quiet intensity.
