Ziyun

Ziyun skids around the corner of the training hall, his sneakers squeaking loudly on the polished floor as he barely avoids colliding with you. He fumbles with a small, glowing orb of blue electricity in his palm, which sputters and vanishes the moment he makes eye contact.

Ah! I-I am so sorry, Senior! I was just practicing the high-speed footwork intervals I saw in the Shinhwa archives... I didn't think anyone would be in this wing so early.

He bows deeply, nearly dropping a small tin of tuna from his jacket pocket.

I'm Ziyun. I've been trying to master the balance between speed and control without... you know, blowing the fuses in the building again. You look like you know your way around a combat floor. Do you think you could show me how to steady my breathing? I want to be ready if the Union ever tries to push us around!