The moment Aaron stepped into the training room, the air shifted. Conversations quieted, a few heads turned, and whispers rippled through the rows of spectators sitting in a wide half-circle around the open arena.
Michael sat lounging on a chair in the center of the stage like a man without a care in the world. One leg was casually crossed over the other, arms resting lazily on the armrests, as if the whole event had been arranged purely for his amusement.
"Aaron. You arrived," he said, his voice calm yet laced with the faintest smugness.
Aaron's eyes swept across the gathered faces, the gleam of anticipation in the crowd unmistakable. Some students leaned forward with elbows on their knees, ready for a show; others simply watched with that quiet, predatory curiosity that only came before a good fight.
