Chapter 133: Stone Grind
The door hissed open, the training room’s air hitting like a wall—thick with sweat, the tang of ozone, the faint metallic bite of Ikona energy. Mats stretched worn and stained, their edges curling from countless fights.
Equipment racks lined the walls, weights dented, dummies patched with tape. The ceiling hummed, vents recycling air that never felt clean. Elias stepped in, boots sinking into the mat’s give, Colby’s heavier steps vibrating beside him.
Kikaru glanced over, her eyes sharp, pausing mid-kick. Paul’s shards slowed, his gaze flicking to Colby’s bulk. Faye’s hum softened, her Ikona’s feathers shimmering, a single note lingering like a question.
Elias rolled his shoulders, shard pulsing hotter, a steady thump syncing with his heart. Colby cracked his neck, muscles flexing under his tank top, no shard glowing, just raw mass. "Ready?" Colby said, stepping onto the mat, his boots scuffing a faint dust trail.
Dot’s flared, her blue glow brightening. "Let’s do this," she said, voice sharp, hovering at Elias’s shoulder. The group shifted, forming a loose circle—Kikaru leaning against a rack, Paul’s shards orbiting tighter, Faye’s hum fading but her eyes locked on the mat.
Elias squared up, fists raised, the mat cool under his boots. Colby moved first, lunging, his fist a blur—fast, heavy, air whistling. Elias sidestepped, the punch grazing his shoulder, mat creaking as he pivoted. Colby’s bulk filled the space, muscles rippling, his next swing a hammer aimed at Elias’s ribs. "Dot’s, hook!" Elias snapped, shard pulsing.
Dot’s spun, her glow flaring, a grappling hook snapping into existence—its chain coiled, glinting, shooting toward Colby’s arm. The hook snagged his wrist, chain tightening, jerking him off-balance. Colby grunted, boots skidding, but his free hand flicked—a small disc, lab-made, pulsing red. It hummed, a sharp crackle splitting the air. Dot’s flickered, her glow stuttering, the hook dissolving into motes of light, chain clattering to the mat.
Elias stumbled, sweat stinging his eyes, shard pulsing erratically. Colby charged, fist swinging low, a grunt ripping from his throat. Elias’s eyes caught the angle—Colby’s elbow too high, his weight forward. He ducked, the fist grazing his ear, and drove a jab into Colby’s ribs, the impact jarring his knuckles. Colby hissed, stepping back, his breath heavy, a faint wheeze in it.
"Dot’s, net!" Elias called, shard steadying. Dot’s flared again, weaker but sharp, a weighted net shimmering into being. It launched, cords spreading, tangling Colby’s legs. He roared, muscles bulging, tearing at the net—cords snapping, but slowing him. Elias moved, eyes flicking to Colby’s stance—knees bent too far, left side open. He lunged, a kick slamming Colby’s thigh, buckling it.