Chapter song: American Idiot - Green Day
Music filled the specialized room as they all took up a corner, stretching their limbs and loosening their stiff joints.
As Andrei had said, the rooms were specially made to train in, built to withstand the enhanced energy of an Anchor or Striker without cracking, buckling, or shorting out when an Anchor or Striker forgot themselves and went overboard.
The ceilings stretched high above them, disappearing into shadowed beams and recessed lighting, giving the space a cavernous, open feel.
Even raised voices didn't echo the way they should have.
The walls and floors were covered in thick black mats; spongy beneath bare feet, firm enough to push off from. They absorbed impact effortlessly, swallowing the sound and force of falls, throws, and landings.
