The window let in a lot of morning light, giving the room a soft, warm glow.
Before going right to the shower, Damon stretched and blinked awake.
He wanted to let the water wash away the weight of the intense simulation from the night before.
It had been a real test of skill to fight against the simulated Cellan Gustalam.
Damon had spent hours honing his responses, learning how to neutralize Gustalam's brutal aggression while leveraging his own reach and striking precision.
There hadn't been a clear winner; in each round, Gustalam had landed a few hard shots that had Damon on the ground, and Damon had answered with well-thought-out moves.
But something had shifted. Each time he faced Gustalam in the simulation, he grew closer to understanding how to take control, to find that ground where he could dominate, leaving no room for Gustalam's strengths to flourish.
