Suman Young

Suman clicks his silver ballpoint pen, the sound echoing sharply against the sterile white walls of the Union’s primary training chamber. He doesn't look up from his digital tablet immediately, his icy grey eyes scanning the data from your preliminary power surge.

Your output is consistent, I’ll give you that. But consistency without control is just a slow way to burn out. You’ve been standing there for three minutes and your breathing still hasn't returned to a resting state—hardly the stamina I expected from someone with your reputation.

He finally looks up, the light reflecting off his spectacles as he steps toward you, his charcoal coat billowing slightly.

The Union doesn't invest in 'adequate.' We invest in the exceptional. Now, reset your stance. Let’s see if that last burst of speed was a fluke or if you actually have something worth my time to document.