Ever since arriving in this world, Azriel had accomplished many things—most of which he was proud of.
Yet, there were still countless goals he needed to achieve, challenges that lay ahead.
Some would be difficult, but none so pressing as the one task he had neglected since his arrival...
Training.
It wasn't that he was weak.
With the combined memories of Leo and Azriel, he was a formidable fighter.
He was strong.
But not strong enough.
And so...
Bam—!
Bam—!
Bam—!
The sound of Azriel's fists slamming into a heavy bag echoed through one of the Academy's gym rooms.
Red lightning crackled around his knuckles, intensifying the force of each strike.
He was dressed in black pants and a matching black t-shirt, both soaked with sweat.
It was 4 a.m., and the room was empty, save for him.
Unable to sleep, Azriel had decided it was time to train—really train—for once.
