The training grounds of Éclair's First Division lay empty in the predawn stillness, abandoned even by the most dedicated practitioners at this ungodly hour. Frost coated the packed earth, rendering the normally dusty surface into a crystalline canvas that crunched beneath Alex's boots as he approached the central ring.
He wore only a light tunic despite the biting cold. Temperature no longer affected him as it once had. Since his communion with Pride at the Blackthorn Temple, his body had undergone subtle yet profound changes that extended beyond mere physical enhancement.
