The recovery pools loomed ahead, their surface a stark contrast to the agony still wracking Damien's body. Steam curled lazily from the scalding-hot bath on the left, while the freezing waters of the right seemed almost predatory in their stillness. A brutal cycle of heat and ice—shock therapy for his shredded muscles.
He stepped forward, shedding the sweat-drenched compression wear, his body aching with every motion. The moment he sank into the scalding water, a sharp hiss left his lips. His nerves screamed, his torn muscles twitching violently under the sudden heat, but he forced himself to relax. This was part of the process. This was necessary.
Minutes passed. Then—movement.
Elysia.
She entered without a word, carrying a silver tray with his post-training meal. Steak and eggs. No garnish. No seasoning beyond salt. Just raw fuel.
