The training grounds no longer felt like sacred marble and floating platforms. They felt like a battlefield that had already lost.
Eon's breath came in ragged bursts, each exhale carrying faint sparks of golden-white energy that refused to die. The air around him shimmered like heated glass, reality itself protesting the raw power leaking from his small frame. He was only eight, but in moments like this, age meant nothing.
"Again," Jordan said, voice flat as forged steel.
Kairn groaned from where he lay sprawled on a tilted platform, one arm draped over his eyes. "We've been at this for hours, Uncle Jordan. Even monsters need water."
Mira shot him a glare but didn't argue. Sweat plastered her silver hair to her forehead, her light-manipulation aura flickering unsteadily. Leo and Lena stood closer together, breathing hard, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and wariness.
Eon didn't speak. He simply jumped.
