@adamsonofzeus
location: training grounds
The training grounds were scattered with soft clouds of dust kicked up by boots, blades, and the odd burst of divine power. Dummies stood like half-forgotten soldiers in the trampled grass, heads hanging askew from too many swings gone wild.
Cian stretched out his left shoulder with a low grunt, wincing when something pulled. He was still aching from the Thunderdome — not just sore, but the kind of bruised that left a whisper of a wince in his gait. His ribs weren’t quite right yet. He’d gone in swinging, but… gods, he’d been tossed like a rag doll by those fake Aliens. He wiped at the sweat beading along his brow and was just about ready to head toward the edge for a breather when something — someone — caught his eye.
Near the racks, half in shadow, stood a tall figure. Dark hair, sharp jaw. Calm in a way that made him stand out — like he wasn’t trying to prove anything to anyone. Cian slowed mid-step, heart giving a quiet, startled knock.
He hadn’t seen him in weeks. Not since before the Thunderdome. And Adam hadn’t shown — no entrance, no fights, not even a whisper of why. Just… absence. And now here he was, looking as if he’d never left. Cian let out a soft breath through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a faint smile. Adam would've sent those beasts running with all but a stare.
Cian didn’t call out. Just started walking, slow and steady, gravel shifting beneath his boots. “You know,” he started, tilting his head just a bit, “I was half-convinced you’d show up in the Thunderdome last minute, land out of nowhere like a bolt outta the bloody sky. Figured that was your style.”
He let a breath of a laugh slip through, the faint smile tugging more fully at the edge of his mouth now. But there was something else behind it — something honest, quiet. “Missed seein’ you there. And around.” His gaze lingered on Adam’s face for a beat longer, soft but steady. “Everything alright?”