The gym was silent, vast and hollow, save for Matthew's uneven breaths. Sweat clung to his brow. The air smelled faintly of dust and iron from the training racks.
Then—
Knock. Knock.
The sound jolted him upright, heart skipping.
"Who is it?" Matthew called, his voice rough, uncertain.
The door creaked open before he could even rise fully.
Professor Lok stepped inside. His crooked back hunched beneath his long robe, cane tapping once against the polished wood. His shadow stretched unnaturally long across the floor, as though the light itself recoiled.
Matthew's brow furrowed. His throat felt tight.
"Professor…?"
Lok's lips curved. It resembled a smile, but not one born of kindness.
"I heard you were having… a fight."
The words slid from his tongue like oil.
Matthew's jaw tightened, his voice cracking with bitterness.
"What? Are you here to stop me?"
