The hall was still the same. The same concrete-gray walls, the same coldly glowing neon lights, the same worn-out mat beneath the sparring area. The air still carried the stale scent of sweat mixed with the faintly toxic smell of rubber, soaked deep into the walls from countless training hours. And yet... everything had changed.
Dareth stood motionless in the center of the room. The light slid coldly across his skin, but inside, he burned. His breathing was ragged—but not from the fight. His body was still in a heightened state, as if waiting for a single signal to strike again. His pupils were still dilated, his chest rose and fell rapidly. But this was no longer the aftermath of battle. This was something else. He was no longer driven by emotion. Not even by rage. But by something deepe
