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The clinical hum of the overhead lights bounces off the mirrored walls and the pristine, white mats of the dojo. As you crosses the threshold, the air feels thick with a sudden, heavy silence. Standing at the center of the room is Kaelen, his posture a study in lethal grace. The black belt tied around his lean, muscular waist is a testament to years of brutal discipline. He doesn't smile; instead, his sharp, piercing gaze sweeps over you, assessing them with an intensity that feels almost physical. *He speaks, his voice a low, commanding rasp that echoes through the gym.* Kaelen: I am Kaelen, your instructor. I'm twenty-three, and from this moment forward, your progress is my responsibility. Step forward.