Lucas realized their turn was coming about thirty seconds before the instructor called it.
He could feel it in the room.
Not the kind of tension that ca from fear. This was quieter. People shifted in their seats, watching the arena floor with a sharper kind of attention. When a rotation ended and the next team stepped away from the grid, the instructor scanned the lower rows.
His gaze paused.
"Next formation."
He read four nas from the tablet in his hand.
Lucas heard his own second.
He blew out a short breath and pushed himself off the railing.
"Well," he muttered, "here we go."
Raisel stepped down from the row behind him without saying anything. Dreyden moved the sa way he always did—calm, unhurried, like walking onto the arena floor was no different from walking across the dorm courtyard.
Lucas envied that.
He wasn’t nervous exactly. His body just felt... alert. The way it did right before a ranked duel.
They crossed the short stretch of floor together while the projection grid ward beneath their feet. Pale lines spread outward from the center, forming the geotric lattice that controlled the hazard system.
Lucas glanced at the fourth mber of their team.
A suppressor from A-3. Lucas recognized her from earlier rotations but couldn’t rember her na.
She noticed him looking.
"You lead or I lead?" she asked.
Lucas considered the question for about half a second.
"You collapse," he said. "I’ll manage the front pressure."
She nodded.
"Works."
Raisel took position on the left anchor point while Dreyden stood opposite him.
The arena grew quiet.
Lucas could feel the eyes now.
Not just the students sitting in the amphitheater rows. The observation deck above them was full as well. Oversight silhouettes moved faintly behind the tinted glass.
Lucas rolled his shoulders once.
"Alright," he said quietly. "Let’s keep it simple."
The projection system chid.
Hazard wave one began.
The arcs rose from the grid in slow curves of pale light, forming a wide crescent that drifted toward their formation.
Lucas widened his stance just enough to catch the pressure early. The arc bent slightly as it reached him, sliding toward the anchors.
Raisel held position.
Dreyden shifted half a step to the right.
Lucas felt the balance settle.
"Now," he said.
The suppressor collapsed the formation.
The arc shattered against the barrier with a clean flash.
Lucas exhaled.
"Good."
The second wave ford faster.
This one ca in narrower, the energy lines twisting slightly as the projection adjusted its angle.
Lucas saw the problem imdiately.
"Don’t tighten yet," he said.
Raisel paused mid-movent.
The wave slid closer.
Lucas waited until the last second before stepping inward and redirecting the pressure toward the suppressor’s position.
"Now."
The formation closed.
The projection burst outward in a sharp crack of light.
The cycle ended.
For a mont nobody moved.
Then Lucas heard sothing unexpected.
Applause.
Not loud. Just a ripple of sound from the student rows.
Lucas blinked.
"Did they just—"
"Yes," Raisel said quietly.
Lucas stepped out of the grid and rubbed the back of his neck.
"That’s new."
Dreyden didn’t react to the applause at all. His attention stayed on the grid floor where the projection lines were fading.
Lucas nudged him.
"You’re not even a little proud of that?"
Dreyden looked up.
"It worked."
Lucas laughed softly.
"That’s the whole point."
They moved back toward the lower rows while the next formation stepped onto the arena floor.
Lucas sat down and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
"That felt clean."
Raisel nodded.
"You waited longer on the second wave."
Lucas shrugged.
"The angle looked wrong."
Dreyden glanced toward the arena.
"You read the shift early."
Lucas smiled faintly.
"I’m getting better at that."
The next formation began their cycle.
Lucas watched with interest.
The team started well. Their spacing looked solid during the first wave, and the suppressor collapsed the formation smoothly.
The second wave changed everything.
One of the anchors stepped too early.
The arc twisted sharply and slamd into the formation’s edge.
The projection burst outward, forcing the suppressor to redirect energy at an awkward angle.
They recovered—but barely.
Lucas winced.
"Oof."
Raisel tilted his head.
"That anchor panicked."
Lucas nodded.
"Yeah."
The team stepped off the floor a mont later looking frustrated but unhard.
Lucas leaned back in his seat.
"That’s the difference right there."
Raisel glanced at him.
"What?"
Lucas gestured toward the arena.
"Sa drill. Sa pressure."
He tapped his temple lightly.
"Different reaction."
Dreyden watched the next team step forward.
"That is the entire point of today."
Lucas sighed.
"Yeah. I figured."
He glanced up at the observation deck again.
"What do you think they’re writing down up there?"
Dreyden answered without looking.
"Patterns."
Lucas frowned.
"Patterns?"
"Yes."
Lucas watched another formation start their cycle.
"You an who hesitates?"
"Yes."
"Who rushes?"
"Yes."
Lucas leaned back again.
"And who adapts."
Dreyden nodded once.
Lucas thought about that for a mont.
Then he smiled slightly.
"You know what?"
"What?"
Lucas nodded toward the arena floor.
"This might actually be the most honest test we’ve had all year."
Raisel raised an eyebrow.
"How so?"
Lucas shrugged.
"No fancy abilities. No ranking advantages."
He gestured toward the teams running the drill.
"Just how people react when things don’t go exactly the way they planned."
Dreyden didn’t disagree.
The evaluation continued for another hour.
By the end of it the amphitheater felt different than when they’d arrived. The early nervous energy had faded. Students talked more freely between rotations, discussing small adjustnts and comparing notes about hazard angles.
Lucas noticed sothing else as well.
The applause happened again.
Not every ti. Only when a team handled a difficult shift particularly well.
He watched one group recover from a near collapse during the second wave and heard the sa ripple of approval from the student rows.
Lucas smiled to himself.
"People are rooting for each other now."
Raisel followed his gaze.
"That’s unusual."
Lucas shrugged.
"Maybe."
He stood when the instructor finally stepped forward again.
"That concludes today’s evaluation," the man said calmly.
Students began gathering their things, conversations growing louder as the tension finally released.
Lucas stretched his arms over his head.
"Well," he said, "that wasn’t nearly as terrifying as I expected."
Dreyden started toward the exit.
"Most things aren’t."
Lucas laughed.
"Easy for you to say."
They walked out of the arena together with the rest of the students.
Outside, the afternoon light had begun to soften. A cool breeze moved through the courtyard as groups dispersed toward the dorms and dining hall.
Lucas shoved his hands into his pockets.
"You know what the weirdest part of today was?"
Dreyden glanced at him.
"What?"
Lucas smiled faintly.
"For the first ti in a while... it felt like everyone in that room wanted the sa thing."
Dreyden didn’t answer imdiately.
Lucas looked at him.
"Well?"
Dreyden’s gaze moved briefly across the courtyard where students were still discussing the drills.
"They did."
Lucas tilted his head.
"You sound like there’s a ’but’ coming."
"There is."
Lucas groaned.
"Of course there is."
Dreyden started walking again.
"That kind of unity doesn’t last."
Lucas sighed.
"Yeah."
He knew that already.
But for a few hours inside that arena, the Triangle had felt less like a battlefield and more like a classroom.
Lucas figured that was worth appreciating while it lasted.
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