It began with silence.

Jordan Ellis, formerly a nobody from the quiet ends of Jersey City, stood in front of a tall mirror trimmed in gold, its surface pristine, reflecting not a man but a question. A question of who he would become.

Behind him, Beth’s heels tapped lightly against the marble as she stepped into the training suite, a glass of wine in hand, her lips already curled in satisfaction.

“Well,” she murmured, circling him like a predator, “we’ve got the bones. We just need ...