That morning, before leaving the house, he had deliberately asked TT for a lighter version of the physical training program inside the LTC.
The previous sessions had been brutal beyond reason.
Every single day ended with his muscles feeling torn apart before the recovery drills even began. Sometimes he spent nearly eight hours inside the LTC simply recovering before he could even move properly again.
But today was important.
Medical tests.
Performance evaluations.
Physical examinations.
He needed his body at its absolute best.
So instead of pushing himself to collapse again, he had spent longer resting and recovering.
And now, sitting there high above the clouds while the aircraft crossed into England, he genuinely felt good.
Fresh.
Sharp.
Ready.
Hours later, the plane finally began descending.
The skies outside had shifted from the softer gray tones of Germany into the clearer brightness hanging over Manchester.
