Chapter 200: A Little Wake-Up Call [3]
The virtual training field stretched out in all directions. An endless plain of dull gray under a cloudless, artificial sky.
The light was bright and clean, like someone had scrubbed away all imperfections until only this sterile imitation remained.
Kyle stood at its center, still as a statue. His tachi—black as a starless night—rested against his shoulder.
Reo groaned, pushing himself up from the crater his body had left in the ground.
His face ached where Kyle’s fist had landed. The phantom sting lingering even after the simulation’s safety protocols had erased the damage.
He spat to the side, tasting metallic of blood, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His lip was split. Just a little, just enough to remind him how badly he had been outplayed.
"Damn it," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His grip tightened around his spear, knuckles turning white.
The frustration wasn’t from the hit. It was from how easy it had been. One second. Kyle was across the field. The next, his fist was already there.
Luna wasn’t doing much better. She rolled onto her knees. One hand pressed against her stomach like she was holding herself together.
Her shortswords lay beside her. The frost coating their blades already dissolving into nothing. She’d blocked. But it hadn’t mattered.
Kyle watched them. His blue eyes glowing faintly in the artificial light. His expression gave nothing away.
"Get up," he said, voice flat. "We don’t have all day."