433’s fist slammed into Shift’s stomach with a resounding thud. The impact knocked the air out of Shift, causing him to double over as a mixture of spit and blood dribbled from his lips. His eyes widened in shock, gasping for breath.

  Without hesitation, 433 cocked his arm back for another strike, his heart pounding in his chest. But before his fist could land, an unseen force gripped him—strong, invisible hands wrapped around his body, freezing him mid-swing.

  ‘Shit!’ 433 thought as he felt his body lift off the ground, weightless and entirely out of his control.

  Shift, still reeling from the punch, narrowed his eyes in concentration. With a flick of his fingers, 433 was hurled across the room. His back collided with the wall, the impact jarring every bone in his body. He gritted his teeth, struggling to regain his composure as the metallic surface of the wall hummed from the force.

  433 rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding being pinned against the wall again as Shift’s telekinetic hold lashed out, trying to grab him.

  He planted his feet firmly and shot forward, dodging another telekinetic shove aimed at his chest. In a split-second decision, he feinted left, throwing Shift off-guard, and lunged forward with a brutal uppercut.

  But before his fist could connect, the air around him pulsed—a sudden pressure squeezing his ribs and hurling him backward once more. Shift, despite his shaky stance, was still in control. His eyes glowed with focus as he raised his hand to deliver another mental blow.

  433, determined not to let it end here, kicked off the wall with force, using the momentum to charge at Shift. He grunted as he powered through the next telekinetic blast, ducking low to avoid a mental shove aimed at his chest.

  He swung wide with his elbow, catching Shift on the jaw, forcing the telekinetic grip to falter for a moment. But it was all 433 needed.

  He pressed the advantage, landing blow after blow, each strike pushing Shift closer to the edge of exhaustion. Yet, with a final burst of mental energy, Shift flung 433 backward one last time, sending him skidding across the floor.

  Both of them stood panting, staring each other down, neither willing to back off just yet.

  "Enough!" James's voice boomed from the sidelines, cutting through the chaos like a knife. His eyes were cold, his expression unreadable. "Get yourself to the healers, then come back," he ordered sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

  433, still panting and bruised, gave Shift one last glare before nodding in reluctant obedience. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth as he staggered to his feet.

  James didn’t waste a second. He turned his attention back to the rest of the group, his gaze landing on the next pair. "Next up is Vera and Flint!" he announced, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

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  Vera and Flint exchanged brief looks, a flicker of mutual respect passing between them as they stepped forward. Flint clenched his fists, a tiny spark of energy dancing at his fingertips, while Vera's eyes narrowed with a commanding intensity.

  ***

  433 hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open and stepping into the nurse's office. The room was small and sterile, with white walls and cabinets lined with medical supplies. A faint scent of antiseptic hung in the air, and the soft hum of machines created a tense, almost clinical atmosphere.

  Behind a desk sat the nurse, a woman in her late thirties with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense expression. She wore a simple white coat, her hair tied back in a tight bun. She looked up from her paperwork, her gaze immediately zeroing in on 433’s bruised face and disheveled appearance.

  "Take a seat," she said, her tone brisk but not unkind. "You look like you’ve been through a grinder."

  433 nodded silently, sinking into the chair across from her. He couldn’t shake off the ache in his ribs or the sting of humiliation from the fight with Shift. The nurse wasted no time, grabbing a cloth and a small vial of ointment as she began to clean the blood off his face.

  "You kids are getting rougher every day," she muttered as she worked, dabbing at his cuts with practiced precision. "Try not to get yourself completely torn apart next time."

  433 said nothing, merely gritting his teeth as the ointment stung his skin. He’d learned to endure pain—physical and otherwise—long ago. He just sat there, staring straight ahead, waiting for the nurse to patch him up enough to get back to training.

  "There," she said after a moment, her voice softening just a bit. "You’re good to go. Try not to make a habit of this." She gave him a pointed look, one eyebrow raised as if daring him to do otherwise.

  433 nodded once more, muttering a quick "Thank you" before standing up to leave. He felt the weight of his failure still heavy on his shoulders as he turned toward the door, steeling himself for the return to the training room.

  As he walked out, Shift came in. 433 glared for a bit but said nothing as he walked past him.

  Five minutes later, 433 stepped back into the training room, his eyes immediately drawn to the intense battle unfolding in front of him. He arrived just in time to see Flint, his hands glowing with the raw energy of the elements, summon a massive rock from the ground. With a swift movement, he hurled it towards Vera with incredible force.

  Vera’s eyes widened in the split second before the rock slammed into her chest. The impact lifted her off her feet, sending her crashing against the wall with a sickening thud. Her body crumpled to the floor, her head hitting the ground hard. She lay still, her limbs twisted at awkward angles. Blood began to pool around her head, seeping into her hair and staining the floor a dark crimson.

  A gasp went through the room. The other Awakened watched in stunned silence, their eyes fixed on Vera's motionless form. For a moment, the only sound was the echo of her impact, reverberating off the metallic walls.

  James’s face darkened, and he stepped forward, his voice cold and clipped. "Enough!" he barked, his eyes narrowing at Flint. "Control your power, or you’ll end up killing someone before you even step onto the battlefield."

  Flint looked down at his hands, the energy still crackling faintly around his fingers. He swallowed hard, clearly shaken by the damage he’d done, but he didn’t say a word.

  433 felt a chill run down his spine as he stared at Vera. She had been so confident, so sure of herself, and now she lay there, vulnerable and broken. He couldn’t shake the image from his mind—how quickly someone so strong could fall.