The gym was quiet in the early morning, just the way Kaida preferred. The dim lighting cast shadows across the walls, while the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft sound of her own breathing were the only noises breaking the silence. She wore her usual training attire: a fitted tank top and leggings that moved seamlessly with her as she stretched, her movements fluid and precise.

Kaida adjusted the wrist wraps on her hands, flexing her fingers and rolling her shoulders as she prepared for the bag in front of her. She threw a few test punches, feeling the satisfying resistance as her fists connected with the surface. Her muscles tightened, her body a perfect blend of tension and control. She found solace in the rhythm of her training; here, she didn’t have to think, didn’t have to guard herself. This was her sanctuary, the place where she could channel all her frustrations and desires into something physical, something real.

Kaida's gaze was steely, her jaw set as she began a steady sequence—jab, cross, hook, uppercut. Her form was immaculate, honed from countless hours spent perfecting each move. Sweat trickled down her neck, and she welcomed the burn in her muscles, each strike a testament to her strength and discipline.

But as she continued, her thoughts wandered.

Kaida (Thoughts): "I can’t afford to slip, not here. Not ever. Strength is what keeps me safe. Keeps me… me."

She paused, exhaling sharply, her gaze hardening as she refocused.

"No one can know what’s beneath all this. They’d just use it against me. It’s better this way."

She threw another punch, harder this time, as if trying to drive the thought from her mind.