Shooting Range – Individual Test Zone
Third-Person POV
The sun was beginning to slide westward, casting long shadows across the wide field behind the east wing. The sharp smell of cordite still clung faintly to Franz's hoodie as he walked away from the shooting range, Emphera trailing behind him and Iris falling into step on his other side.
Franz had aced it—300 out of 300. Iris had been second, with 294. Emphera had landed somewhere in the middle of the pack, ranking 14th, and was still muttering about how she is prodigy in shooting."
As they passed the final safety checkpoint, Emphera sighed dramatically and holstered her regulation pistol into its foam-lined case.
"I swear I felt that gun didn't want to part ways with me," she said. "It looked into my soul and said, 'Please don't leave me.'
"You are such a drama queen," Iris murmured.
Emphera raised an eyebrow. "Okay, Uh... You're such a sniper queen."
