Lucen stayed quiet, flicking blood off the edge of his sleeve. Not his blood. So spitter-type from the alley section that tried flanking too wide.
’Second strike got lucky. First was sloppy. Could’ve done better.’
The lift opened near the welco arch.
Gabe stood there already. Arms folded. Thin jacket over her uniform blouse. No clipboard today. Just eyes like scanners, locked on them as they stepped in.
She didn’t start with questions.
Didn’t ask for a recount.
She just said, "You neutralized everything."
Lucen gave a light nod.
Cas answered properly. "Yes, ma’am. All targets verified by pulse scan. No runner anomalies."
Gabe tilted her head. "Two civilians injured?"
Myles stepped forward. "One took a knock from a falling gutter pipe when a brute went into the wall. The other slipped running. No direct damage from us."
Lucen added, "Cleaned up the spill pattern. Burn residue wiped. No trail."
Gabe studied his face. "You the one that handled that?"
Lucen’s tone was even. "Yeah."
She exhaled, just a shade louder than normal. Then stepped aside. "Command review flagged you. You’ll get a comnd. Maybe a bonus."
Lane perked up. "Bonus like... coin bonus?"
"Bonus like ’don’t crash your first assignnt’ bonus," Gabe said flatly.
Cas leaned toward Lucen as they passed. "That ans yes."
—
Long table. Thirteen chairs. Fresh paperwork in soft blue folders. Each seat had a sealed energy tab next to it. Myles grabbed his and cracked the top off like a soda.
"I love this guild."
"Save it," Cas muttered, flipping open her folder.
Lucen stayed standing for a second. Watching. Breathing. Feeling the edge of adrenaline in his system fade slower than usual.
Gabe clicked the screen behind the desk. Stats loaded.
Damage dealt. Ti in field. Suppression radius. Clean-up ti. Civilian safety margin.
It showed no nas. Just rank codes. Heat maps. Burst ratings.
She pointed to one, red line flare in the northwest sector.
"Who took this hit?"
Lucen raised a hand half-heartedly.
Cas blinked at him. "Wait. That thing was aid at ."
"Yeah," Lucen said. "It was."
Lane snorted. "You bodyblocked for her?"
Lucen sipped his drink. "I owed her lunch."
Cas squinted. "We’ve never had lunch."
He smiled slightly. "Exactly."
Lane leaned back. "Okay. Cool. I’m never getting in front of that guy."
Gabe shook her head with a ghost of a smirk. "Whatever you’re doing, it worked. One engagent, minimal flare, no knockback damage."
She looked at Lucen again.
"You’re good at looking like you’re just standing there."
Lucen raised his bottle. "Thanks."
—
The training hall an hour later.
It wasn’t empty anymore.
Two other return teams were stretching. One had a hamr-user, still in his leather rig. Another group had a bow unit whose hair was half-burned off on one side and didn’t seem to care.
Lucen adjusted the wraps on his arms and stepped into the lower mat zone with Lane and Myles. Cas sat on the bench, watching. Gabe leaned near the main monitor with two other field instructors.
"Ti for social combat?" Myles asked.
Lane bounced slightly on his toes. "You an sparring?"
"Yeah. That’s what I said."
Lucen flexed one wrist. No spell glyphs this ti. Just movent.
’Let’s see how far that training went. No spells. Just position.’
Lane stepped in first.
Not with flair. Not with a yell.
Just a jab to the chest.
Lucen swayed aside, ducked the second hit, and caught his wrist just long enough to pivot him sideways.
Lane hit the mat with a soft grunt.
Myles stared. "You even try?"
Lucen shrugged. "Kind of."
Cas muttered under her breath, "He’s not showing off. That’s what makes it worse."
One of the other instructors nearby raised an eyebrow. "That new kid?"
Gabe nodded.
The instructor whispered sothing into a pad.
Lucen didn’t miss it. ’Already logging . Great.’
—
Lucen leaned against the vending wall, watching a kid argue with the mana capsule machine because it spat out cherry instead of blue razz.
Cas walked up with two protein packets.
"Here. Eat."
Lucen took one. "I’m fine."
"You’ve got that ’drained but pretending to be cool’ look."
He glanced at his reflection in the chro. "’Cool’ is generous."
Myles dropped down into the chair beside them, unwrapping sothing fried. "So what’s the plan next drift?"
"Wait," Lane said, joining with a drink. "They said we might get to rotate with team D next ti, right?"
Cas nodded. "Team D’s got a heavy archer."
Lucen asked, "Fast draw?"
"Yeah," Cas said. "Double-string. You can’t see it when he fires. Blink and your sleeve’s gone."
Lucen exhaled once through his nose.
’Alright. New tricks. That’ll be fun.’
Lane was watching him.
"You never miss a beat, do you?"
Lucen didn’t answer right away.
Then: "I do. I just don’t let anyone see it."
Cas laughed once. "Gabe’s right. You’re gonna make everyone else nervous."
—
Gabe stood with two other departnt leads watching the final cara footage again.
They didn’t have nas yet. Not official.
But one pointed to Lucen’s fra at the ten-second mark, where he dodged past a burst line and tagged two hostiles without breaking stride.
"That support kid. Ghostweave. What’s his file?"
Gabe sipped her drink. "Prelim clearance. Direct referral. High retention rate."
The other nodded. "We’ll want him assigned to higher tier trial drift. Maybe even solo sim."
"No," Gabe said.
"Why not?"
"Let him get bored first. If he gets bored, he shows more."
The others looked confused.
Gabe didn’t clarify.
—
’They’re all good. I’m better. Still not saying that out loud. Not until soone actually earns the right to hear it.’
He stepped over a wet curb and watched a pair of high-schoolers reenact part of his earlier throwdown with a stick and too much enthusiasm.
Lucen pulled his hood up, smiled faintly, and kept walking.
Tomorrow was another run.
And the ga?
Still wide open.
—
The door creaked when it opened, the cheap kind of noise Lucen’s brain was too fried to flinch at.
He stepped inside.
The lights were off. No music. Just the hum of the mana filter against the back wall and the faint buzz of the street three floors down.
Then a voice, flat and calm.
"Took you long enough."
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