The weight of the Gravity Room pressed against me as I moved through my routines, each motion deliberate, each strike precise. The augmented gravity pushed down relentlessly, every step requiring calculated effort, every movement forcing me to channel mana for reinforcement. Sweat rolled down my back, my breathing steady despite the strain.
Then, a shift.
At first, it was subtle—so faint it might have gone unnoticed. But I had trained my senses rigorously over the break, honing them to pick up on even the smallest irregularities. And this? This was unmistakable.
The sound. Or rather, the absence of it. The faint hum of mana that normally coursed through the Gravity Room seemed muted, suppressed. The ambient energy of the training hall beyond the room's barrier felt distant, disconnected.
My breath hitched slightly, though I kept my movements controlled. My eyes narrowed as I focused on the emptiness around me, the void where there should have been noise and motion.
