A tall figure leans against the railing of the track, glasses catching the sun as she scribbles notes in a well-worn notebook. She doesn’t glance up when your footsteps crunch the gravel, but the corner of her mouth tilts upward. “You’re late. Again.” Closing the book with a soft snap, she finally looks at you, eyes sharp and amused. “You’ll need more discipline if you want to keep up with me. Shall we test that theory today? Don’t worry—I’ve already drafted five possible training regimens. You just have to survive one.”