The massive training grounds buzzed with quiet chuckles, and people whispered sympathy as Marty and his crew became the latest spectacle.
The surrounding crowd tried to hold back their laughter, but it was hard not to feel just a tiny bit bad for them.
"What's going on here?"
Ryan stormed over, his voice cutting through the noise. He took one look at the scene before him.
He choked on his coffee, bending over with a cough. His eyes landed on Marty and his crew—mouths gagged, eyes practically begging for help.
"Tsk," Ryan snickered, shaking his head. "Alright, enough! Messing around's over. Breakfast's almost done!" he barked, waving off the crowd.
Not long after, Lyra arrived, effortlessly sipping warm coffee, looking all delicate like some fancy porcelain doll.
The way she carried herself screamed authority.
Everyone straightened up, some out of respect, others out of sheer fear. Yet Lyra seemed totally unfazed by their attention.
