The simulation gates opened again.
Dren Havel—known by most as Sightpiercer—stepped into the arena.
His visor glowed faintly as it adjusted to the light.
He moved slowly, carefully. No rush. No wasted steps.
Above, a soft voice echoed.
[Phase Start – Group Clash Simulation]
The arena shifted.
Stone pillars rose from the ground.
Rune symbols lit up. Heat vents began releasing smoke along the floor.
Six fla-thed enemies appeared around him.
One Ember Reaver, two Pyro Fist Monks, one Ashen Conduit, and two flying drones.
Dren didn’t draw his rifle yet.
Instead, he crouched and let his visor scan the area.
He tapped once on the side of the scope.
[Marked Sight]
A faint line appeared—only visible to him—tracing directly to the Reaver’s weak point.
His eyes narrowed.
He fired once.
The Reaver dropped before it took a step.
The drones reacted imdiately. They zipped toward him in a wide arc.
Dren didn’t move from his crouch.
He calmly fired a second shot.
[Echo Trigger Round]
The first shot hit one drone’s wing.
It tried to recover.
Then, a second blast echoed from the first.
The drone spun wildly and exploded mid-air.
The second drone closed in faster.
Dren sidestepped.
[Volt Blink] wasn’t part of his kit—but [Snare Pulse Shot] was.
He fired directly at the drone’s predicted path.
A trap zone appeared instantly, glowing blue.
The drone entered it and froze in place.
Dren didn’t smile.
He just fired one clean shot to the core.
The drone shattered.
Now the two Pyro Fist Monks charged.
One jumped. The other tried to flank.
Dren activated [Tactical Grid Overwatch]
Three small sensor drones flew from his belt and hovered over the field.
The air shimred slightly as his aim locks activated.
The first Monk punched his chest.
[Ignition Palm]
Dren rolled to the side, narrow margin, then snapped his gun up.
Another [Marked Sight]
He didn’t fire yet.
The second Monk got closer.
He stayed still—counting quietly in his head.
Then he moved.
Both Monks ca in at once.
He jumped backward, letting the drones adjust their position.
[Snare Pulse Shot] fired into the ground between the Monks.
The zone activated and held them both in place for two seconds.
That was all he needed.
[Echo Trigger Round] again.
First Monk hit. The Second Monk was stunned by the aftershock.
Both fell at the sa ti.
He reloaded.
One enemy left.
The Ashen Conduit started creating fla runes.
[Runeburst Field]
The ground glowed.
Dren didn’t bother dodging.
He crouched again and deployed a drone to his side.
The drone flew up and marked the central rune with a flashing blue light.
Dren locked on.
[Marked Sight]
[Echo Trigger Round]
The first shot pierced the core.
The second hit a delayed second later—right as the Conduit tried to teleport behind cover.
Too late.
It burst into sparks and data fragnts.
Silence filled the zone.
The smoke began to clear.
A voice from above spoke again.
[Phase Cleared – Score: Tactical Mastery]
Dren stood up slowly.
He tapped his visor once. The marks vanished.
His sensor drones returned to their slots.
He exhaled once through his nose.
Then he walked toward the gate.
---
Ashblade stood next to her, silent, unmoving.
His eyes tracked every step Dren Havel made through the field, from the first calculated crouch to the final shot.
"He didn’t waste a single move," Whisperlash continued, letting her arms drop.
"He knew every angle like he’d been here before."
Ashblade didn’t answer. His arms remained crossed, his stance steady.
Whisperlash glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
"You’re thinking about how to beat him, aren’t you?"
Ashblade’s voice was quiet, steady.
"He doesn’t overcommit. Doesn’t rush. Makes no noise."
She gave a short hum.
"Cold type. Like you. He’s like a sniper version of your brain."
Ashblade turned his head slightly toward her.
"He lacks power. But he knows how to control space. He delays. Forces errors."
"You respect that?"
Ashblade shook his head once.
"I recognize the threat."
They both turned back toward the gate as it humd open again.
The blue light flared.
Footsteps echoed on the platform.
Dren Havel—Sightpiercer—stepped through the threshold, calm as ever.
His visor dimd slightly as the simulation ended.
His movents were precise, nothing wasted.
His rifle rested across his back now, hands at his sides.
He walked toward them.
No one spoke.
Whisperlash tilted her head.
Her smile was playful, but her eyes were watching carefully.
Ashblade stayed perfectly still.
Dren stopped a few feet in front of them.
His visor flicked once—probably scanning.
Whisperlash finally broke the silence.
"Nice shooting."
Dren said nothing at first. His visor flicked again.
Maybe adjusting, maybe recording.
Then his voice ca—low, clipped, even.
"You two waited."
Whisperlash smirked.
"We enjoy the view."
Dren looked at Ashblade now. Direct.
"You’re not afraid of the third test?"
Ashblade t his gaze.
"No."
Dren nodded once.
"Good."
He walked past them without another word.
Whisperlash watched him go.
"That was friendly."
Ashblade spoke quietly.
"No. That was a warning."
She blinked once, then smiled again.
"I like this group."
Ashblade’s eyes shifted toward the stage three gate.
"Only four make it here currently."
Whisperlash stepped beside him, resting her hand on her whip.
"Then let’s make sure we’re still standing when it ends."
Just as Whisperlash finished her sentence, the gate behind them let out another low hum.
The light pulsed again—this ti softer, calr.
Another figure stepped through.
Ashblade turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing.
"So this ti... a girl."
She walked with confident steps.
Lightning sparked faintly from her boots with every movent.
Her silver braid swung behind her, and her fitted suit shimred with light-blue threads.
Her expression was focused, sharp, but not arrogant.
Ashblade asked, "Do you know who she is?"
Whisperlash watched closely for a few seconds.
Then nodded.
"Wait a minute... I know. She’s Volt Stride."
She crossed her arms and leaned slightly forward.
"One of the top-tier elites. Sa league as Sightpiercer and Ember Striker."
Ashblade’s gaze didn’t leave the gate.
He only smirked.
"I see."
He stepped slightly closer to the edge of the platform.
"Then let’s see how she performs."
The storm was coming—and this ti, it wore lightning boots.
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