The magitek training hall thrummed with energy.
At its center, three figures stood poised — sweat already glinting under the overhead lights.
Kael, grounded and steady as stone.
Rhea, light and fluid, her dagger spinning idly between fingers.
And Sirius, silent, calm, every motion coiled like a spring waiting to snap.
On the raised platform above them, Cor Leonis watched, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Today's lesson is simple," he said. "Adaptation through adversity."
Zangan leaned lazily against the railing beside him, smirking. "That's your fancy way of saying, 'Make him bleed a little,' isn't it?"
Cor didn't answer.
He pointed at the three below. "Blake versus both of you. No illusions. No holding back. I want to see if he can read two different styles at once."
Rhea arched an eyebrow. "Both of us against him? That's unfair."
Kael grinned. "For who?"
Rhea snorted. "We'll find out."
Sirius said nothing — only adjusted his stance, right hand resting on the hilt of his katana.
Cor raised his hand. "Begin."
---
Kael moved first.
He closed the distance with a burst of speed, sword swinging in a controlled arc aimed at Sirius' ribs. Sirius parried effortlessly, the clang of steel echoing through the chamber.
Before the sound faded, Rhea struck — appearing on his flank, dagger flashing toward his shoulder.
Sirius ducked low, spinning to deflect her blade with the back of his hand, using her momentum to pivot behind Kael. He countered with a single sweeping kick — Kael blocked it, sliding back a step.
For a moment, the three of them circled each other, breath steady, eyes sharp.
Zangan whistled. "They've come a long way. That coordination's no accident."
Cor's gaze flicked to him. "Coordination born from rivalry."
Below, the fight resumed — faster this time.
Rhea moved like wind, darting in and out, testing Sirius' guard. Kael stayed heavy and deliberate, creating openings with brute force. Their rhythm was practiced — the chaos of illusion and precision woven into a deadly tempo.
Sirius read them both, body flowing with impossible smoothness. Every attack they made taught him something new. Every feint, every step, his mind mapped their timing.
Rhea lunged again, her feint almost invisible. Sirius parried — but Kael was already behind him.
The strike connected.
Sirius staggered back a step, the dull blade leaving a red line along his arm.
Rhea grinned. "Got you."
Sirius looked at her calmly. "You coordinated that strike perfectly."
Kael smirked. "And you didn't see it coming."
Sirius tilted his head. "Didn't need to."
---
He vanished.
Not vanished — erased.
The faint shimmer of air rippled, then fell silent.
Rhea froze. "Wait—"
A blur passed behind her. Kael turned, sword raised — too slow. Sirius' strike stopped a centimeter from his throat, then redirected mid-motion to catch Rhea's dagger before it reached him.
Two simultaneous parries.
Two perfect counters.
He stepped back into the light, expression calm. "Now I've read it."
Kael exhaled, sweat glistening on his brow. "You're insane."
"Adaptation," Sirius replied.
Rhea circled him again, smirking. "Then let's see how fast you can keep adapting."
---
The fight reignited.
Rhea weaved illusion into footwork — not light magic, but the kind of trickery that came from rhythm and timing. Her movements doubled, ghosting through the air, confusing spacing and perception.
Kael used her distractions like signals, hammering at Sirius' defenses with heavy, precise swings.
Sirius moved differently now — slower, more deliberate, conserving energy, reading the flow of both at once. He was no longer reacting. He was predicting.
Kael lunged; Sirius side-stepped before the move began. Rhea feinted right; his hand caught her wrist before the dagger appeared.
The rhythm between them built into something breathtaking — a blur of steel, sweat, and instinct.
Every hit that landed was countered with two that didn't. Every miss was a lesson that rewrote the next movement.
Cor's eyes narrowed. "He's synchronizing."
Zangan grinned. "With both of them at once? That's not training — that's madness."
"Madness that's working," Cor murmured.
---
Kael finally broke the rhythm.
He threw his sword aside and lunged barehanded, catching Sirius off guard. His fist connected, slamming into Sirius' jaw.
The impact snapped Sirius' head to the side — but he didn't fall.
He turned back slowly, blood on his lip, and smiled faintly.
"Better," he said.
Kael stepped back, wary. "You're enjoying this."
Sirius raised his sword. "I'm learning."
Rhea muttered, "He sounds like Cor."
Kael grinned through exhaustion. "Then we're doomed."
---
The fight drew on until every breath came heavy, every strike labored. Sweat dripped from all three as the sound of their weapons rang through the chamber like drums of war.
Then, in one final motion, Sirius spun — blade tracing an elegant arc through the air. He disarmed Rhea with a flick of the wrist, pivoted, and stopped Kael's punch an inch from his face with the flat of his sword.
The world stilled.
Cor raised his hand. "Enough."
The three of them froze, panting, staring at one another.
Kael wiped blood from his cheek, grinning. "Draw?"
Rhea chuckled breathlessly. "We'll call it a draw."
Sirius shook his head, lowering his weapon. "No. You both forced me to grow."
Kael smirked. "Then next time, you'll owe us when we fall behind."
Sirius smiled faintly. "Deal."
---
Cor descended the stairs, his boots echoing softly against the floor.
"You're beginning to understand," he said.
Sirius glanced at him. "Understand what?"
"Balance," Cor replied. "Power alone is predictable. But harmony between blades — that's what makes a Guard unstoppable."
He looked at all three of them in turn. "You're rivals. You're competitors. But someday, you'll fight as one."
Rhea crossed her arms. "You make it sound like destiny."
Cor met her gaze. "It's preparation."
Zangan called from above. "Preparation for what?"
Cor didn't answer.
But his silence was enough.
---
Later, the three of them sat outside the training hall, the city lights stretching below like rivers of gold.
Kael leaned back, hands behind his head. "You ever think about what all this training is for? I mean really for?"
Rhea raised an eyebrow. "You mean besides Cor's obsession with discipline?"
Sirius didn't answer at first. His gaze was fixed on the horizon — the faint shimmer of the barrier, the endless dark beyond it.
"Someday," he said quietly, "the light's going to fail. When it does, we'll need people who can move in the dark."
Rhea smiled faintly. "That's the most depressing pep talk I've ever heard."
Kael chuckled. "And somehow still inspiring."
Sirius shrugged lightly. "Realism tends to be both."
---
They sat together in companionable silence for a while — three rivals, three shadows sharing one fading sunset.
Rhea tossed a pebble into the air, catching it lazily. "You realize we're probably going to end up fighting together again tomorrow?"
Kael groaned. "Cor's cruelty knows no end."
Sirius smiled faintly. "Good. We need the practice."
Rhea smirked. "You're turning into him, you know."
Sirius leaned back against the wall. "Then maybe he's doing something right."
They laughed quietly, the sound echoing softly into the night.
Above them, the barrier glowed — faint, unwavering, unaware of the future waiting beyond its edge.
And below it, three young warriors forged the bond that would one day define the unseen war to come.