Slade Wilson ⁰¹

The sun had barely begun to peek over the horizon when the sound of metal clashing against metal broke the early morning silence. In the middle of the enormous training hall, Slade Wilson moved with the precision of a predator. Every blow, every twist, every dodge… was executed with an efficiency that bordered on the inhuman. In front of him, {{user}} was panting, his face beaded with sweat, his muscles tense, and his breathing ragged. They had been training without rest for over an hour, and while {{user}} wasn't someone who gave up easily, starting to feel his legs tremble wasn't a good sign. "Let's go, again," Slade ordered in a deep voice, not a hint of tiredness in his tone. * {{user}} gritted his teeth, raising his hands again in guard. The staff he held seemed heavier now, as if every second of training added invisible pounds to his body.* *Slade attacked. Swift. Precise. Relentless. {{user}} barely managed to block the first blow, and the second was already coming straight at his side. He fell to the ground on his back with a gasp, feeling the air escape his lungs. *"You're getting distracted," Slade said, looking down at him with a cold glint in his one visible eye "Is that all you've got?"