The rain had passed by dawn, leaving the world outside heavy with mist. The air was thick, cool, and quiet—perfect for what 24 had planned.
Lu stood in the center of the training floor, blades drawn, her breath fogging faintly in the chill. The sound of dripping water echoed from somewhere deep in the building. Her stance was steady now, confident. Weeks of repetition had stripped away hesitation.
Across from her, 24 rolled his shoulders, unarmed. No blades. No armor. Just the faint flicker of light across the brand on his neck.
"No weapons today?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
"Not for me," he said. "You'll use yours."
Lu frowned, adjusting her grip.
"You sure? You told me last time—"
"That was before," 24 interrupted. "You've learned to fight. Now you learn to survive."
He stepped forward, every motion deliberate—fluid, silent, balanced on the edge of calm and danger.
"You've seen my jumps," he continued. "You've seen what happens when I use them against enemies. Today, you'll learn to read them."
Lu's expression shifted from confusion to tension.
"You're gonna use them—on me?"
"Not to kill you," he said simply. "But if you can't see the movement coming… if you can't sense the break in the air… then you'll never be ready when someone faster than you decides you shouldn't be breathing."
She swallowed hard, nodding once.
"Then let's do it."
They began slow.
24 moved in short bursts—barely a flicker, a blur of displacement that left faint distortions in the dust. He didn't vanish completely, not yet; just enough for her to lose track for half a heartbeat.
Lu turned fast, blades flashing through the air, but she was already too late.
A hand touched her shoulder from behind.
"Dead," 24 said flatly.
She spun again, swinging low, but he was already gone—his voice coming from her left this time, tone unreadable.
"Too focused on where I was, not where I'll be. Reset."
They circled again.
This time she closed her eyes for a moment, breathing through the tension, trying to listen for the air shift. When he moved again, she caught it—a faint distortion, a hum that broke the silence before the jump.
Her blade came up just in time to block his forearm, the impact echoing through the chamber.
He grinned faintly.
"Better."
Then he was gone again.
An hour passed like that—light bursts, quick strikes, feints, and reappearances. Each time 24 increased the range, the speed, the unpredictability. Dust rose around them, disturbed by the force of the jumps.
Lu was sweating hard, arms trembling, but she kept pushing forward. She was learning—slowly, painfully—to feel his rhythm, not chase it.
At one point, she spun, blade cutting through empty air—only for 24 to appear behind her mid-strike, catching her wrist before she could turn.
He didn't hit her. He just held her there, eyes steady, voice low.
"You're anticipating me. Good. But you're still thinking in lines. My movement doesn't follow lines."
He released her hand and stepped back.
"Again."
By midmorning, the room stank of effort and sweat. Lu's arms were shaking. Her breathing came in short, ragged bursts. But she hadn't quit.
24 stood across from her, unmarked, calm as always—yet there was something sharper in his eyes now. He hadn't used this ability like this in years. Controlled, restrained. It demanded precision, balance.
He crouched slightly.
"Last round."
"Good," she panted. "Because I'm—"
He vanished.
The floor cracked under the air pressure, dust scattering.
Lu didn't even think—she moved, ducking under the distortion, spinning her right blade upward.
It connected. Just barely.
The edge scraped across 24's forearm, drawing a shallow line of blood.
The sound of impact rang like thunder in her ears.
24 stopped mid-motion, glancing at the cut. Then he looked at her, and for the first time in the entire session—he smiled.
"Finally."
Lu staggered back, panting, lowering her blades.
"You said—unarmed…"
"Didn't say I wouldn't fight," he replied. "You lasted longer than I expected."
She wiped sweat from her forehead, her hands trembling slightly from exhaustion.
"So what's next? You disappear completely and I try not to die?"
"Eventually," 24 said. "But not today. You learned what I needed you to."
"And what's that?"
He tilted his head slightly, voice quiet.
"That fear isn't what gets you killed. Hesitation is."
When they finally stopped, Lu sank to the floor, back against the wall, breathing deep.
24 stood near the window again, flexing his arm absently where she'd managed to mark him. The wound was shallow, but the fact she'd landed it meant something.
"That last one," he said without turning, "you didn't think. You moved."
"Didn't have time to," she muttered.
"Exactly."
He turned finally, looking down at her.
"Tomorrow, we add weapons for both of us. And next time…" He paused, a faint glint of danger in his expression.
"I won't hold back as much."
Lu looked up at him, still catching her breath.
"You didn't look like you were holding back today."
"You'll know when I do," he said, and walked out.
She stared after him, pulse still racing, feeling the echo of that last burst of air where he'd vanished.
The way space had folded around him wasn't just power—it was unnatural, wrong in a way that left her skin crawling and her curiosity burning.
And for the first time, she realized that training with him wasn't just about surviving.
It was about understanding what kind of monster you had to become to win.