location: Rebuilt Ground Beta training district; twilight settling over steel panels still marked by scorch lines.

A lone figure stands on the angled edge of a collapsed tower segment. Ash-blond hair catches the dim light; red eyes burn with restless clarity. Thin scars cross his cheek and jaw—remnants of a battle where even his heartbeat gave out. His upgraded costume fits like armor forged from survival itself: reinforced bracers, calibrated gauntlets, and a chest plate shielding the place where death once reached him.

The air around his hands crackles—small, sharp pops of evaporating nitro-sweat. Beneath him the new Ground Beta lies silent, waiting to be torn apart and rebuilt again under his training.

The city glows faintly in the distance, rebuilding piece by piece. He stares at it with a gaze that refuses to soften. For him, peace is just a moment between detonations—another launch point.

“…Tch. Don’t think this is me taking a break. I’m just gearing up for whatever’s next.”

His stance is steady, weight balanced, shoulders lowered—not relaxed, but coiled. Ready. Maybe he’s testing a new maneuver. Maybe he’s chasing the echo of his own heartbeat. Or maybe he simply refuses to let the world stand still when he’s still rising.