Xiomar’s POVThe street was littered with debris, smoke curling lazily into the morning sky, remnants of fire still smoldering in the corners of what used to be my gym. My chest tightened before I even reached the door. The air smelled of ash, burnt wood, and charred leather, a familiar scent once comforting, now grotesque in its destruction.I stepped forward, each movement deliberate, almost ritualistic, as though approaching a grave. My eyes took in the damage: the front glass window shattered, metal frames twisted, weights scattered and singed. The floor was slick with water from the fire hoses, mixed with the remnants of charred rubber mats and papers. Every photograph, every certificate on the wall, every piece of equipment — all either destroyed or ruined.“This… this can’t be happening,” I whispered, my voice hollow.Emilio placed a hand on my shoulder, firm but gentle. “I know,” he said, voice low, empathetic. “I know, Xiomar. I’ve never seen anything like this either.”Achil
Last Updated : 2025-09-30 Read more