Steam curled from Elysia's skin as she stepped from the bath, the heat doing little to melt the cool calculation in her golden eyes. With efficient, practiced motions, she tied her long black hair into a severe, high ponytail. She dressed not in the elegant silks of the student council president, but in form-fitting, dark training gear designed for freedom and lethality. The conversation with her half-brother could wait. First, she needed to sharpen the blade—herself.
Her destination was not one of the public training grounds. As the council president, she had access to privileges far beyond those of a regular cadet. She walked to a seemingly ordinary wall at the back of her manor's study, placed her palm against a specific stone, and channeled a thread of prana. The wall shimmered like a mirage and parted, revealing not a room, but a doorway into another world.
She stepped through into the pocket dimension reserved for the student council's elite.
