The moment the training room came to life, the ground shivered beneath their feet. Arcs of blue light zipped from hidden vents, charging the atmosphere with a low hum. Aether-blasts exploded across the mock battlefield in dazzling streaks of sapphire aether-steam, and the training dummies deployed with a metallic clunk, eyes flickering with cold, artificial light.
Jack ducked as the first aether-blast whizzed past him. It burst against the wall behind him with a hiss, its blue vapour coiling like smoke snakes through the air. “Already?” he muttered, nocking an arrow. “This room’s out for blood today.”
Toma squeaked as the mannequin opposite him jerked to life and shot an aether-blast. The harmless projectile missed by a wide margin and struck the back wall, but it was enough to send the boy scrambling behind a low, crate-shaped fixture.
Nessa leapt up from her lane, did a wild somersault over a waist-high barrier, and landed hard beside Ella.
Ella stared. “What are you doing?”
“Tactical repositioning,” Nessa grinned, acting like she’d dodged a real arrow.
“That was a cartwheel into cover,” Jack called from the left. “Not a battle manoeuvre.”
“Tell that to the aether-blast that nearly clipped my braid!” she shouted, loosing two arrows in quick succession.
Toma popped up from cover, released, and hit the mannequin that had targeted him. The arrow thudded against its chest, just left of centre.
“Nice!” Jack shouted. “Good aim.”
“I was aiming for the other target!” Toma replied, his eyes wide in disbelief. “But I’ll take it.”
Jack couldn’t help but laugh as he spun, shot, and hit nothing but air. “And… I missed entirely. Typical.”
The room was filled with thunks and dings as the four loosed arrows and dodged aether-blasts.
On the far right, Ella had claimed the high ground, a narrow platform near a raised fixture. From her vantage point, she shot down at the targets. “Watch the one with the hat,” she shouted.
“It has a hat?” Jack asked, puzzled.
Ella loosed an arrow. “It does now. Look.”
Sure enough, one of the training dummies had been given a ridiculous brass top hat. Ella’s arrow bounced off it with a clang, prompting Nessa to burst out laughing.
“That hat’s enchanted!” Ella called. “Legendary dungeon drop!” She joked.
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Jack aimed for it. “I want the hat! It will make me a noble, and I’ll choose a second name. Jack Hat… Earl Hat.”
The others laughed.
Toma joined in, releasing his own arrows at the ‘boss dummy’. “I’ll be Toma Hat. My brothers will have to call me Lord Hat.” The boy’s shot missed by a mile and instead hit another mannequin in the throat, causing it to mock explode in a puff of blue aether-steam.
“Achievement unlocked!” Jack called. “Lord Toma Hat the Accidental Slayer.”
Toma whooped and tried to reload, only to fumble his arrow and drop it down a floor grate. “Nooo! Will the skittery collector things be able to retrieve it?”
An aether-blast caught Jack while he was laughing. “Ow. My Leg!” The aether-blast didn’t hurt much, but he shouted on instinct. “Damned top hat guy got me! Tell my kids…” He fake coughed. “Tell my little ones that I died for Merciar, I died for their future!” He fell to the floor laughing.
Toma dropped another arrow from laughing too hard.
Nessa rolled into cover beside Jack, out of breath and grinning. “I think this room’s out to get us.”
Jack leaned against the barrier, panting. “If it is, it’s doing a damn good job of it.”
From her perch, Ella loosed another arrow and scored a direct hit on a mannequin’s eye. “Headshot hunter!” she crowed, pumping a fist.
“Was that luck or skill?” Nessa teased.
Ella smirked. “Yes. Yes, it was.”
The group laughed as they dodged more aether-blasts.
The lights overhead dimmed and flickered, simulating twilight. Wind gusted through the room from the vented walls, and the targets increased in speed. Targets dashed from side to side, ducking behind crates, leaping from small platforms. The noise of aether discharge, clattering gears, and the occasional hiss filled the air like a machine orchestra gone mad.
Jack wiped his brow. He was sweating, breathing hard, and loving every second. It reminded him of how lucky he was to have been given this second chance at life. He had his health, family, and an opportunity to make new friends. Life was good.
Toma ran past him, his arms flailing, then dived behind another barrier. “They’re targeting me!” he yelped. “Help!”
“You’re the hero now; it’s your job to deal with it!” Jack shouted, loosing an arrow that cracked against a mannequin’s shoulder. It hissed, spun, and fired an aether-blast back, only to hit a steel post with a resounding ping!
Nessa ducked under the arch of the returning blast. “Bloody hell, they’re adapting.”
“They are,” Jack said, shooting again. “That’s why we adapt faster.”
The soft female voice rang out over the din.
Warning.
Remaining time: Five minutes.
“Alright!” Nessa shouted. “Final push!”
They all nodded, too breathless and focused to speak.
The last few minutes were a chaotic ballet. Arrows flew and aether-blasts screamed through the air. Targets advanced faster than before. Jack dashed across the field between targets, rolling into cover, then popping up to shoot. Ella dropped from her perch, loosing two arrows midair. They missed. Toma managed to mock-destroy a second dummy and danced around the room dodging aether-blasts like he’d just won a tournament.
Jack found himself laughing again, not from joy alone, but from relief. Being trapped in the room with Sam and Linda had wound him up tighter than a clockwork automaton. He’d needed to let go like this. Just for a moment to forget about the weight of masks, lies, blood, and cold bodies staring at him through his nightmares.
I needed this, he thought. Just fifteen minutes of me being me. Not a killer or a target… Just a scribe… and a kid with a bow having fun with new friends. A blast zipped past his cheek. “Time’s not up yet!” he growled, raising his bow.
The mannequin didn’t survive the next shot.
And then, stillness; the session had come to an end.
The dummies folded away while the wind died down. The blue aether-steam drifted towards the vents. The room went quiet to the sounds of four out-of-breath young people high on adrenaline.

