Ashblade slowly opened his eyes.
He sat up and looked around.
There were five seats. Four were taken.
Whisperlash sat across from him, spinning a small thread of illusion between her fingers.
She looked bored.
Next to her stood Sightpiercer, arms crossed.
His visor glowed faintly, and his eyes scanned the room like he was still on a mission.
Ember Striker leaned against the wall, arms behind his head, a smirk on his face.
And Volt Stride sat in the corner, resting her legs on a chair and tapping her finger on her knee.
They had all passed.
The final five.
Whisperlash waved lazily when she saw Ashblade sit up.
"You slept like a rock," she said.
Ashblade nodded once. "I was tired."
Ember Striker scoffed.
"Tired from passing first?" he said. "Or tired from acting humble?"
Sightpiercer didn't smile. "Doesn't matter. That test wasn't a real fight."
Volt Stride raised her voice. "Exactly. Just a bunch of mental games and tricky trials."
