The elevator humd as it descended past standard training levels, deeper than any public registry hall Lucen had visited before.
It wasn’t just the depth that made him tense, it was the silence between floors. No floor chis. No digital displays. Just numbers etched into the tal above the panel, counting down past zero into negative integers.
The walls didn’t reflect his face.
No polished chro, no city-glass finishes.
Just flat gray plating. Spell-hardened. Pressure-rated.
He glanced sideways at Varik, who stood motionless, hands folded behind his back like a soldier in a briefing.
"This one’s different," Lucen muttered.
Varik didn’t look at him. "The last facility was made for high-level simulations."
"And this one?"
"For people who don’t want a record."
The elevator stopped with a low thunk.
The door opened into a narrow hallway. No attendants. No automated greeters.
Just clean light panels above and deep black padding underfoot, so kind of impact-resistant floorwork Lucen didn’t recognize.
The walls pulsed faintly every few seconds. Ambient mana dampeners. Active, not passive.
Lucen exhaled through his nose.
"Cozy."
Varik led him down the hall. They passed a long row of sealed doors, no markings, no numbers. The silence here was thicker. Manufactured.
Like the building was holding its breath for what happened inside.
Finally, they stopped at a door with no fra. Just a smooth segnt of wall with a small glyph etched in the center. Varik placed his palm against it. The glyph spun once, then sank into the wall.
The door opened without sound.
Beyond it lay a training arena the size of a school auditorium. But it didn’t look like a sports facility. No bleachers.
No holographic boards. No system HUDs glowing in the air. Just one wide floor, gray stone, mana-fused, with faint hex lines drawn deep into the material like scars that healed wrong.
The ceiling stretched higher than expected. Reinforced beams overhead thrumd gently with suppression charge. A single observation window sat in the far upper wall, blacked out from this side.
Lucen stepped in and heard the door seal behind him.
He turned in a slow circle.
"This is overkill for a spar."
"It’s not a spar," Varik said, stepping ahead of him onto the stone. "It’s calibration."
Lucen raised an eyebrow. "For who?"
"You," Varik said. Then, "And whoever’s watching."
Lucen stopped walking.
Varik turned and t his gaze. "You thought it was just taking notes? After a jump like that? Your file’s on half a dozen unlinked terminals by now."
Lucen didn’t blink. "I don’t have a file."
"You do now."
Varik walked to the center of the ring, then turned and rolled his shoulders once. His coat shifted slightly. Underneath, the layered armor weave shimred just barely in the white light.
Lucen stepped forward slowly.
"Are they going to call it in if I beat you?"
"They’re going to study the footage for a month if you survive."
Lucen didn’t smile.
Didn’t joke.
He stepped into the center, opposite Varik, and let his mana rise, not all at once, just enough to push the fog out of his system channels.
His gloves humd faintly as the threads realigned.
[Mana: 148 / 148]
[Spell Archive: 8 / 11]
[Spell Ready: Null Reversal]
[EXP Gain Enabled.]
Lucen cracked his neck.
"Three casts, right?"
"That’s all you get," Varik confird. "Make them matter."
Lucen rolled his wrists, drawing a faint glyph in the air, a test line, light and harmless. The floor responded imdiately. No delay. No mana resistance. The room was tuned to his pressure.
Then Varik blurred.
No signal.
No countdown.
No stance.
Just motion.
He vanished from view and reappeared directly behind Lucen, hand already extended.
Lucen twisted instinctively.
[Spell Cast: Soundlash]
[Mana: 132 / 148]
The pulse detonated outward. The air snapped.
Varik didn’t flinch.
He passed through it like smoke, one foot planted, and caught Lucen’s shoulder mid-turn, flipping him backward across the stone.
Lucen hit the ground hard.
Skidded.
Rolled once.
Ca up on one knee, gloves burning, eyes wide.
’Fast.’
Varik didn’t advance.
He just stood where Lucen had been, arms loose, waiting.
Lucen spat a breath out and muttered, "Right. No rcy."
Varik nodded once. "Start surviving."
—
The mont Lucen hit the stone floor, his spine lit up with warning. Not system-generated.
Not magical. Just physical, pressure from a man who could end him in one breath if he stopped moving.
He rolled once, ca up low, one hand splayed against the fused hex-grid floor, and scanned.
Varik was already moving again.
Not sprinting. Not blinking.
Just walking, casually, like the distance didn’t matter.
Lucen reached for his first spell without calling it out.
[Shockweave Bolt]
The glyph flared in half-ford light between his fingers, then snapped forward in a sharp, clean line of electricity. Not aid to kill. Just to disrupt.
The arc split in the air and shot toward Varik’s chest.
Varik didn’t stop.
He raised one hand, not even fast, and the arc split again, redirected around him like water around a stone. It hit the far wall with a muted sizzle.
Lucen dropped low and dashed left, trying to break line of sight.
His boots scread faintly against the mana-damp floor as he launched himself behind one of the only vertical sparring barriers in the room. Thin cover. Not enough. But sothing.
He ducked, bracing.
A second later, the barrier shattered behind him with a sound like a building groaning under pressure. Varik had walked through it.
Not dashed. Not warped.
Just walked through it, and it broke around him.
Lucen spun mid-fall and launched [Crater Bloom] at point-blank range under his own feet.
The glyph lit beneath him, cracked once, and detonated with a hard upward blast. The force knocked him backward, off-course, painful, but better than being cut in half.
The floor cratered.
Varik vanished into the smoke for a breath.
Lucen hit the ground six ters back and rolled onto his shoulder. Dust clung to his coat. His ribs ached.
[Mana: 98 / 148]
[Spells Cast: 2 / 3]
He coughed once, then stood quickly, staggering as he realigned his stance.
’One left.’
He couldn’t waste it.
Not yet.
The smoke cleared.
Varik stood in the broken crater, coat dusted, head tilted slightly to the side like he was watching a student flinch through a quiz they hadn’t studied for.
Lucen flexed his fingers. His hands shook slightly.
’No pressure,’ he thought. ’Just a guy who deletes people for warm-up.’
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