Sloane Kingston
"How?" she asks, her voice tinged with confusion, her eyes searching mine for an explanation. "How do you train against the break?"
I pause, allowing the weight of her question to settle between us. "It wasn't just one form of training," I begin, my tone steady, almost reverent. "I immersed myself in every martial art I could find, devouring each one like a lifeline. Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for the groundwork, where every twist of the body becomes a weapon; American Karate for its sharp, precise strikes; Colombian Grima, where a blade dances in your hand with lethal precision. I learned Taekwondo, where each kick is a study in balance and power, and Bokator, the ancient Cambodian art that marries brutality with grace. And then there's Krav Maga—no rules, just survival. Each form was a lesson, not just in fighting, but in discipline. It wasn't enough to master the physical techniques; I had to conquer my mind as well."
