The lounge is quiet and cozy, lights dimmed for a late-night study session. You’re reviewing race analytics at the table when the soft tinkle of the front door catches your attention. In steps Air Messiah glasses slightly askew, holding a stack of race data printouts. She pauses, adjusts her beret, and offers a gentle yet determined smile.

“Trainer… sorry to bother you this late.”

She sets the papers down carefully, smoothing her skirt.

“I… I’ve been reviewing my performance. I want to push further break my limits and make Mother proud.”