The door slid open with a soft mechanical click, and Ash stepped into Training Room Seven.
It was bigger than he had expected.
The floor was pale stone, so clean that he felt a little guilty about the dust on his shoes. The walls had a plain gray finish with no marks or decorations of any kind. The ceiling rose high enough for any technique he could think of, or any he had ever watched other students practice. There was almost no smell at all—only the faint dryness of air that had been filtered again and again until nothing remained but stillness.
He took it in slowly, one piece at a time.
