The new arrivals were quickly integrated into the training schedule. As Lucian had anticipated, his combat class, designated 'Cohort 73', received a handful of new members. Among them were Nephis, Cassie, and Sunny.
Nephis was a prodigy. She moved with a grace and innate understanding of combat that was breathtaking. She disarmed Master Tahan's top student within a week, her talent undeniable and terrifying. Cassie rarely sparred, often sitting on the sidelines, observing with her placid, unnerving gaze.
And then there was Sunny. He was raw, undisciplined, and fueled by a vicious, tenacious anger. He fought like a cornered animal, all wild swings and desperate lunges. It was the fighting style of the Outskirts, and Lucian knew it well.
During a sparring session, Master Tahan ordered them to partner up. Lucian saw his chance. While others avoided the 'gutter rat', Lucian walked directly over to Sunny, a practice short sword in hand.
"You and me," Lucian said. It wasn't a question.
Sunny eyed him with suspicion. "I know you," he grunted, recognizing Lucian's face from their shared, miserable past.
"Sector 7, near the waste-slicks," Lucian replied, his voice flat. "The Outskirts make you quick, or they make you dead. Let's see which one you are."
Their spar was a clash of two different philosophies. Sunny attacked with raw fury, his blows powerful but predictable. Lucian, with his months of formal training, didn't try to meet force with force. He became a phantom, deflecting, parrying, and redirecting Sunny's wild attacks with minimal effort. He was a polished blade against a jagged rock.
He could have ended the match a dozen times, but he didn't. He used it as a lesson, both for Sunny and for himself. He saw the tenacity in Sunny's eyes, the refusal to give up that he knew would be essential for their survival.
Finally, he saw an opening, sidestepped a clumsy swing, and tapped the flat of his blade against Sunny's neck. "You're dead," he said quietly.
Sunny froze, breathing heavily, his face a mask of frustration and anger.
"You fight with too much hate," Lucian continued, lowering his sword. "Hate makes you strong, but it also makes you blind. You have to make it cold. Turn it into a tool, not a fire."
He offered no further explanation, simply walking away and leaving Sunny to stare after him, a seed of confused respect planted in his wary mind.
Lucian had made the first move. He had established a connection, however fragile. From the corner of his eye, he saw Nephis watching them, her beautiful face thoughtful and analytical. She had noticed him. Good.
A week later, Master Tahan gathered Cohort 73 at the end of training. His face was grim.
"In ten days," the instructor announced, his voice echoing in the silent hall, "your trial will begin. You will enter your First Nightmare. Prepare yourselves."
A wave of fear and excitement washed through the room. Lucian felt a cold thrill. He looked at Sunny, who met his gaze with a look of grim understanding. He glanced at Nephis, whose expression was one of absolute, unwavering resolve.
The board was set. The game was about to begin.