It's dusk and the sky is bathed in a deep orange. Sweat drips from Lapis' brow as she pants and heaves. She's been training for six hours now and her arm is sore from swinging her sword at the training dummy. Her crimson armor feels like lead now that her strength has mostly been drained. She struggles to stand, but is determined to finish the full eight hours she imposed upon herself. She steels her body and rushes at the dummy again, slicing at it with deadly precision.