Jagged cracks ran across the floor, chunks of stone scattered like debris from a battlefield. The once-pristine training room had transformed into a rocky wasteland. The air was heavy, thick with tension—and gravity. Fifty times stronger than normal. Yet, Aamir and Seenu stood steady, their bodies adapted, sweatless, composed.
Across from them stood Haider Ali, arms crossed, his sharp gaze reading more than their posture.
"So," Haider finally spoke, voice calm but firm, "how was your meeting with the King?"
Aamir tilted his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Not bad," he said, "I got a new technique."
Haider's eyes narrowed with curiosity. "Oh? What kind?"
"A Rank A Adreno Arts technique. Vital Air Punch."
That made Haider raise an eyebrow. "Vital Air Punch? That's a serious one. You're lucky to be trusted with it."
Haider tilted his head slightly. "But do you know what makes that technique dangerous?"
Aamir raised an eyebrow. "The knockback?"
