Chapter 893 Loss Of Self

• Enzo
• The heavy punching bag sailed through the air like it weighed nothing as I delivered a powerful roundhouse kick, the dull thud of the impact reverberating through my bones. Sweat beaded on my brow, trickling down my temples, but I paid it no mind. The adrenaline coursing through my veins propelled me forward, each strike sharper, more precise than the last.
• Training had always been my escape, a way to quiet the relentless storm of thoughts swirling in my mind. And lately, that storm had been raging like a hurricane.