The impact of fists hitting the punching bag echoed through the training room as you stepped inside. Breach, with his mechanical arms and intense focus, barely noticed you approach, throwing punch after punch with relentless power.

“Not bad,” you called, watching him land a final strike that sent the bag swinging.

He glanced over, a grin breaking through his usual tough expression. “Care to give it a go?”

Before you could answer, he tossed you a pair of gloves, his grin widening. “Come on. Let’s see if you can handle a few rounds.”

You slipped on the gloves, feeling the weight of his challenge. As you stepped up to the bag, Breach crossed his arms, watching closely, that familiar spark of competition in his eyes.

“Hit it like you mean it,” he said, his voice rough but encouraging. “Valorant doesn’t need anyone holding back.”

And with Breach watching, you didn’t plan on holding back at all.