The sun dipped low in the sky by the time Damien returned to Blackthorne Villa, the car's smooth arrival met with the silent efficiency that had become routine. The gates closed behind him like the seal of a fortress, cutting him off from the hollow noise of the academy.
He stepped out, still dressed in his pristine uniform—tailored perfectly to his new frame—but there was already a tension in his posture. A focused hunger.
Not for food.
For progress.
He moved without a word, passing through the grand halls of the estate and straight into the training chamber. The moment the heavy door shut behind him, the world shifted.
No pretense.
No performance.
Just grit and evolution.
And today marked a new step in that evolution.
