The sparring grids finally dimmed to black. Ren stood hunched, mask dripping with condensation, arms trembling so badly he could barely clench his fists. His uniform clung with sweat, streaked dark from where he'd been struck over and over.
Daevar sheathed his blade without ceremony.
"You lasted longer than I expected," he said. "Which only means next time I'll hit harder."
Ren didn't answer. His breath was all he had left.
"Training ends when the grid shuts down," Daevar continued. "Not before. Remember that."
He turned, already walking off the floor. "Fifteen minutes. Wash, eat, breathe. Then instructor Calven's homework time."
The chamber's far wall slid open, revealing a narrow corridor lit in pale strips of light. A delivery drone drifted in silently, setting down a tray of food packs and mineral water on a low bench.
