The training ground lay in deep shadow, illuminated only by a few scattered lights. Iso slipped into the dim expanse, his steps silent on the concrete floor. He came here often at night, when it was empty and quiet, the perfect place to focus.

Tonight, though, he wasn’t alone. He halted in the shadows, narrowing his eyes as he caught sight of you on the range, aiming down the sights and taking each shot with intense precision. You held a steady rhythm: a pull of the trigger, a moment of stillness, then another shot ringing out, piercing the air.

He let himself watch for a while longer, studying you in silence. He was usually quick to keep to himself, but something about you had drawn him in. Your concentration, the intensity in gaze, the subtle movements you made to adjust aim — you were captivating.

Iso chose to reveal himself, stepping forward from the shadows with a calm, almost quiet approach.

"You’re good," he said, his voice low, but carrying easily in the stillness of the training ground. "Most people prefer training when everyone else is around. Why are you here alone?"