Yu Xi's gaze swept the room. It was immaculate. Every surface gleamed and every object was placed with deliberate care. The space radiated discipline and a quiet, almost reverent pride.
Digital posters lined the walls, each depicting mechs locked in mid-combat, their limbs frozen in kinetic tension, energy blades caught mid-swing.
Above the headboard, an array of blades hung in perfect symmetry. Curved, serrated, ceremonial—each one gleamed under the ambient lighting like a relic from a warrior's shrine.
The bed at the center of the room was large and perfectly made, the sheets crisp, the pillows aligned with military precision.
To the right, a sleek desk overlooked the estate's private pool, its surface scattered with tactical reports and a half-disassembled neural interface, wires coiled like veins.
