3
Rajel’s fists pounded the punching bag, a flurry of successive blows that nearly knocked the damn thing off its chain. He stood in the middle of the Scrappy’s gym, a line of exercise bikes along the wall in front of him, a line of treadmills off to his left. And Corovin Dagmath behind him, sitting in a plastic chair that he had positioned next to the door. He sensed them all.
Some people said that spatial awareness painted a misty image of the world. It wasn’t like that for Rajel. Maybe because he had never experienced mist visually, only as a cool condensation on his skin. To Rajel, Spatial Awareness was almost a tactile sensation. No colour, just shapes that grew more distinct the closer they came.
“My, we certainly are angry today,” Corvin said.
Rajel bounced on the balls of his f
