Morning sunlight poured through the wide glass panels of the recovery wing, spilling across the metallic floor and onto Lacolone's battered form. The steady rhythm of the monitors was a lullaby to his pain. He groaned softly.
"I still feel like someone ran a tank over me…"
Maya sat nearby, balancing a tray of breakfast on her knees. Her smile was patient, her eyes warm.
"And yet here you are, still hungry?"
Lacolone grinned weakly, reaching for a sandwich with trembling fingers. Even after everything — Valgor's storm of power, his near-death struggle — hunger still lingered. Maybe it wasn't just for food. Maybe it was for purpose.
Maya adjusted his blanket.
"You don't need to pamper me," he muttered.
"Cute when you complain," she teased, straightening up just as Jessica entered the room with a thermos and a bottle of medicine.
"If you want to survive the next round," Jessica said coolly, "you're taking these."
Trying to sit up too quickly, Lacolone jostled the tray. The sandwich slid off in slow motion.
"No—!" he croaked, diving after it.
Maya gasped; Jessica sighed, pinching her nose.
Lacolone crawled across the floor, bleeding hands outstretched like a man chasing destiny.
"Really, hero?" Maya laughed. "That's how you risk survival?"
He clutched the sandwich victoriously.
"Worth it…"
Later that afternoon, Maya guided him through a polished training chamber humming with holographic targets and glowing platforms.
"Time to rebuild — body, reflexes, and focus," she said.
Lacolone groaned, staring at the towering weights. "You sure this isn't punishment?"
Jessica demonstrated a perfect strike, stance sharp as steel. "Recovery isn't rest. It's rebirth."
The first steps were brutal. His grip on the training sword trembled; every swing sent sparks of pain through his arms. Maya launched a light kick, sending a target spinning into the wall. Lacolone tried to mimic her—missed—and stumbled into a punching bag.
"Focus, rookie," Jessica said, smirking.
Maya's laughter filled the room.
By the third day, humor kept him alive. Jessica strapped a resistance band around his waist.
"Try punching forward," she said.
He lunged—
She tugged lightly—
He flew backward into a foam mat.
Maya giggled. "You really are stubborn… I like it."
Even in failure, determination burned bright.
Days passed. Maya projected holographic battle maps, glowing figures clashing in simulated warfare.
"Every move matters," Jessica explained. "Power means nothing if your strategy fails."
Lacolone studied the patterns, taking notes, his mind sharper with every session.
Maya leaned close, voice soft. "Brains and brawn together… that's how legends survive."
When Maya handed him a towel, their fingers brushed. He froze. She smiled faintly, pretending not to notice, but Jessica caught it instantly.
"Finally noticing the care around you?" she teased.
Maya rolled her eyes. "Ignore her."
Still, a flicker of warmth lingered.
Training intensified. Weighted vests, obstacle drills, endless laps. Sweat soaked through his bandages. Foam projectiles zipped past his head. He dodged—barely—only to bump into Maya. She laughed, pushing him back.
"Don't make me your target," she teased.
Pain, sweat, laughter — a new rhythm for his rebirth.
By evening, he slumped against the wall, chest heaving.
"You survived Valgor," Maya said softly, kneeling beside him. "But survival is just the start."
Jessica crossed her arms. "We're counting on you to grow stronger—for all of us."
Lacolone looked at his bruised fists and the faint reflection of his teammates in the glass. He nodded. "I will."
The next day brought a lighter mood. Maya tossed him a small snack mid-training.
"For motivation," she said.
He grinned. "If Valgor shows up, I'll fight him for dessert."
From the far corner, Valgor—recovering in his own way—pretended to take a bite of invisible food.
"I'll beat you next time," Lacolone called out.
Maya laughed until she almost dropped the snack.
When the sun hit the perfect angle, Lacolone stood on the training platform, bandaged fists clenched, framed in golden light. Maya smiled.
"This is your real hero moment."
Jessica nodded. "That championship spirit never left you."
Sometimes, the calm before a storm looked like peace—but it was really preparation.
Weeks blurred into rhythm: dodge, strike, recover, repeat. Holographic lasers sliced through the air. Jessica timed every motion. Maya's voice echoed encouragement from the sidelines.
Every second counted. Every stumble mattered. Every bruise became a reminder.
One day, he accidentally stepped on a hovering drone, sending it spinning wildly.
"Careful," Maya laughed. "You'll destroy the HQ before the next battle."
Jessica chuckled. "If he survived Valgor, he can survive a drone."
Lacolone scratched his head sheepishly. Laughter broke the tension again.
That night, he sat alone, wiping sweat from his brow. Images of his battles flickered in his memory — Valgor's rage, Jessica's precision, Maya's light.
"Strength isn't just power," Maya said softly behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's knowing why you fight."
He nodded. The sunset painted hope across the windowpane. Growth was quiet, but it was real.
Valgor appeared in the doorway, arms crossed.
"Training hard, little hero?"
Lacolone jumped, startled.
"Ignore him," Maya said with a grin. "He's just jealous you're prettier."
Jessica chuckled from her station.
Even old rivals could push the will forward.
When training ended, Lacolone stood tall — still bandaged, still scarred, but alive and sure of himself.
"Tomorrow," Maya said, "we test your limits."
Jessica added, "And make sure your stubborn heart survives."
He looked toward the holographic battlefield, the symbol of what lay ahead. His hand tightened into a fist.
As night descended, the trio stood before the vast HQ window, sunset washing them in amber light.
"Rest tonight," Maya whispered. "Tomorrow, the world watches."
Jessica smiled faintly. "And so do I."
Lacolone exhaled slowly, eyes steady.
"I won't fail. Not again."
Beyond the glass, storm clouds gathered in the distance — the promise of the next great trial.
Narration: Every step in recovery is a step toward legend.