Brin narrowed her eyes, her feet barely touching the simulated rooftop. "Maybe that's the test. See who panics, who makes decisions under pressure."
"Or who gets trapped," Kaelis muttered. "Look at the sniper's position. It's perfect for a kill shot. If we rush in without a plan, we'll walk straight into it."
Sentinel, meanwhile, stood frozen for a moment, processing the holographic city that surrounded him. The rain was a tactile illusion, but it felt unnervingly real. He scanned the simulated hostages—every movement felt too… planned. There were cameras everywhere. Whoever was running this simulation knew exactly how he thought, how he fought, how he led.
"We can't just storm the building," he finally said, his voice cool and precise. "We need to control the flow, manipulate the environment. Focus on getting to the snipers first. Ghostshade, you're our eyes. Stay invisible. Keep the drones off our backs."
"Got it," Kevin said, his voice barely more than a whisper. He melted into the shadows, his form flickering as he phased through walls, seeking an angle on the sniper's position.
Gears, his mind racing, spoke up next. "I'll take the front entrance, cause a distraction. Brin, get ready to lift those hostages up. Kaelis, can you get us eyes on the drones without getting caught?"
Kaelis smiled grimly. "Leave it to me."
As the team split to their assigned roles, the pressure intensified. Gears knew they were on borrowed time. The ticking countdown in the corner of his vision taunted them, mercilessly counting down each second.
Inside the high-rise, the hostage scenarios began to change. One moment, the child projected from the window. The next, the building trembled—its flickering red lights shifting, drawing attention.
Gears moved toward the front entrance, sliding through the alley with every sense heightened. The streetlights cast harsh glows against the wet pavement. There was no room for hesitation. He triggered the EMP pulse on his slingshot rig, frying a nearby security bot in one clean sweep before it even had time to register the threat.
Meanwhile, Ghostshade, from his vantage point in the shadows, kept an eye on the sniper bot. Every twitch of its rifle seemed to be in tune with the smallest movements in the street. His heart raced as he calculated—if he misstepped now, they would all be dead.
Sentinel moved forward with calculated steps, his heavy boots thumping against the wet concrete. His body absorbed the impact, and despite the heavy weight of his frame, he glided through the streets as if he were weightless. His instincts, honed through countless missions, guided him like an invisible hand, each move deliberate, every glance thoughtful.
The high-rise's entrance loomed ahead—a sealed door reinforced with security-grade metal and locks that looked impenetrable. Gears was at the entrance now, slingshot rig still humming with energy. He could feel the tension in the air, feel the time slipping through his fingers.
From above, Brin lowered herself, manipulating the gravitational pull to ease the hostage projections—slowly, delicately. They floated toward her like weightless marionettes.
"Clear up here," she murmured through the comm. "But we've got company." Her voice faltered just slightly.
The drones buzzed, more numerous now, as if the entire city was waking up to stop them.
"We don't have time for subtlety," Gears barked. "Kaelis, we need those drones down. Now."
Kaelis didn't hesitate. She launched herself from her perch, her wings unfurling with a flare of light. In moments, she was streaking through the air, light bending around her as she dodged and weaved through the storm of drones.
At the same time, the voice of Nyra crackled again in their earpieces. "Three minutes remaining. Time is almost up."
Pressure. It was no longer just a simulation. It was real.
The sniper bot was poised to fire. Ghostshade knew his time was running out. He phased through the wall of the building adjacent to the sniper's position, his form slipping between the real and unreal. He appeared behind the bot, just as it locked onto a target. With a sudden and precise slice, he disabled the sniper bot's targeting mechanism.
"We've got a clear shot," he whispered. "Take it."
Gears didn't need any more words. He swung the EMP mine onto the high-rise door's access panel, triggering a silent pulse that sent the reinforced doors crashing open with a loud groan of metal. The team stormed inside.
The hostage projections were frantic, but Gears didn't waste a second. He ushered them toward the exit. Sentinel moved like a machine, pushing through resistance, clearing the path with brutal efficiency. Brin was already lifting the remaining projections, making sure no one was left behind.
"We're almost there," Sentinel said, his voice calm, though his chest was tightening with every step.
And then, without warning, the simulated world began to glitch.
The city flickered. The rain stopped. The walls began to dissolve into static, revealing the cold, harsh simulation grid behind them.
"Did we win?" Gears asked, his voice strained.
Nyra's voice crackled once more, but there was no anger or frustration in it this time—only approval.
"Mission Complete. You have succeeded the Trial of Wit."
But something was wrong. For a brief moment, the team froze. Something was off. A shadow flickered at the corner of their vision.
And then it was gone.
In the distance, a new test loomed, unseen but very much real.