In the Training Hall as sparring session begins:
There was a calm energy in the air inside the training hall. And the warmth of newly awakened energy lingered in the room like the aftermath of a summer storm.
Amara stood in the middle of the large fighting ring with her hands on her hips and a cold, hard look on her face. Around her, people in the squad stretched, rolled their shoulders, and shook their arms to get ready for what was occurring.
"Alright," Amara said, her voice sharp but steady, carrying across the room. "You've all had time to feel it. To taste it. Now it's time to control it."
Her eyes scanned everyone, most of whom looked like they'd just come out of a 10-hour workout session. Sweat dripped from their brows, their muscles visibly tense, but their eyes—those eyes were different.
"Here's the deal," Amara continued, walking in a slow circle like a predator sizing up her prey.
