Between Battles

The simulated match had concluded with a decisive victory for the instructors. Though the students had shown improvement and tenacity, their combined efforts fell just short of breaking through the refined skill and seasoned teamwork of their mentors. Each team had moments of brilliance, but critical mistakes and a lack of seamless coordination ultimately led to their downfall.

Now, within the confines of NexaRealm's digital architecture, all twenty participants—five instructors and fifteen students—found themselves in separate small rooms designed for post-match breaks. The sleek, minimalist interiors were devoid of distractions, offering only virtual benches and calming ambient sounds to help them recuperate. The walls glowed faintly with a soft, pulsating light, mimicking a heartbeat to promote relaxation.

Tae-young sat with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed.

"We had them for a moment there," he muttered, replaying the final clash in his mind.

Kyu nodded from his seat across the room. Their positioning was good, but the follow-up wasn't fast enough. Hesitation is the bit key point here. Chin-hwa adjusted his headset, a mix of frustration and determination etched on his face.

"The instructors aren't invincible. We were this close," he said, holding up his fingers to emphasize the narrow gap between victory and defeat.

On the instructors' side, the mood was lighter. Instructor Ji-woo leaned back on his virtual bench, a small grin on his face.

"I have to admit," he said to Instructor Seung-hyun. "They're getting better. I actually broke a sweat in that last fight."

Instructor Seung-hyun chuckled, his imposing frame relaxed as he leaned against the glowing wall.

"Yeah, but they still lack the instinct to capitalize on an advantage. That's where we crushed them."

"Their potential is there, but it's raw. If they keep improving at this pace, it won't be long before they start giving us real trouble," Instructor Min-ji, sitting nearby, offered a more measured observation.

In the student rooms, the atmosphere varied—some were frustrated, others quietly reflective. Joon-ho tapped his foot impatiently.

"Why aren't we allowed to leave yet? What's the point of sitting around here?"

"It's deliberate," Sang-hee replied from another corner, her voice calm and analytical. "They want us to reflect, to think about our mistakes and how to improve."

As time ticked on, the students began to regroup in their minds. Despite the defeat, many were already planning how to overcome their shortcomings. The shared understanding among them was clear: this wasn't the end, but a necessary step toward greatness.

A sudden chime echoed in the students' ears, accompanied by a vibrant notification that flashed on their HUDs. The message was clear and succinct:

[You are now permitted to log out. Please proceed to the viewing room immediately.]

Beneath it, a small note added:

[Attendance mandatory. Do not delay.]

The students exchanged puzzled looks, their earlier conversations about strategy and mistakes abruptly forgotten. The abruptness of the message left them scrambling to make sense of it.

"What do you think that's about?" Jin-kyong asked, her brow furrowed as she leaned closer to the glowing notification.

"Something big," Min-jae replied, already standing and preparing to log out. "They wouldn't pull us out like this otherwise."

"It's gotta be a review session," Baek-hyeon suggested, though the uncertainty in his tone made it clear he wasn't fully convinced.

"Speculating won't change anything. Let's go and find out," Kyung-mi's calm voice cut through the rising murmurs.

As the students logged out of the simulation and began making their way toward the viewing room, the instructors' rooms remained untouched. Their HUDs showed no such notification. Instead, they received a different directive:

[Remain in NexaRealm. Await further instructions.]

The instructors glanced at one another, their usual composure tinged with subtle curiosity.

"This wasn't in the briefing," Instructor Seung-hyun noted, crossing his arms. His tone carried a mix of concern and intrigue.

"Looks like we're staying in the dark on this one," Instructor Dong-soo added, pacing the room with measured steps. "Any guesses?"

Instructor Min-ji leaned against the wall, her brows slightly furrowed. "It's unlike the Director to spring surprises like this. Whatever it is, it's significant."

Instructor Ji-woo glanced at the system timer on his HUD, then at the lingering silence of their separate rooms. "Think it's the director tampering with something?"

"Could be," Instructor Min-ji replied. "But if it is, the fact that we weren't briefed makes it feel... off."

Meanwhile, as the students gathered outside the game, their excitement and anxiety grew with each step toward the viewing room. Their whispered speculations intertwined.

"Maybe they're going to show us the instructors' performance in the match," Sang-hee mused.

"Or..." Hyun-ae trailed off, her eyes narrowing. "What if it's something entirely unexpected?"

By the time they reached the entrance to the viewing room, anticipation hung thick in the air. The students hesitated briefly before stepping inside, their curiosity outweighing their trepidation. Whatever awaited them, one thing was clear: this wasn't a typical day at the training facility.

The students filed into the viewing room, their footsteps a mix of eagerness and reluctance. The air was tense, charged with an unspoken understanding that this was more than a casual review. Inside, Director Hye-su and her ever-present secretary, Hae-won, stood with an air of calm authority.

"Good, you're all here," Director Hye-su greeted them, her tone professional but carrying an edge that commanded attention. She gestured to the rows of seats arranged before the massive viewing screen. "Take your seats. We have much to discuss."

The students obeyed without protest, settling into the chairs and exchanging quiet glances. Hae-won stepped aside, allowing Director Hye-su to take centre stage. With a subtle motion, she brought up the data collected from their match.

"Your performance in the recent simulation..." She paused, her piercing gaze sweeping across the room. "...was not satisfying."

A heavy silence fell over the room. No one dared to speak, but the weight of her words pressed down on them. Many of the students averted their eyes, their earlier frustrations resurfacing as they reflected on their shortcomings.

The silence was broken by Tae-young, his voice sharp and defensive.

"With all due respect, Director, how could you expect anything else? The instructors have years of experience working together, perfecting their strategies and honing their skills as a unit. We've been thrown together, barely knowing one another, and asked to function as a team in a few months!"

Heads turned toward Tae-young, some students nodding in hesitant agreement while others cringed at his boldness.

"Of course, there's a disparity," he continued, his tone rising. "It's not even close to a fair comparison."

Director Hye-su regarded him impassively, letting his words hang in the air before she responded.

"You're correct," she said simply, her calm acknowledgement disarming the tension. "You are, without question, far from the instructors in every measurable way. They are a completed structure, built over years of discipline, cooperation, and shared goals. You, on the other hand, are merely a foundation—unsteady and incomplete."

Her words stung, but there was no malice in her tone, only cold, unyielding truth.

"However," she continued, her voice sharp with intent. "This is why you are here. To build. To grow. And to learn not just from your weaknesses, but from the strengths and weaknesses of others—even those who seem invincible."

With a wave of her hand, she redirected their focus to the massive screen that now dominated the room.

"Watch," she commanded.

The screen came to life, showing the instructors—Instructor Dong-soo, Instructor Ji-woo, Instructor Seung-hyun, Instructor Min-ji, and Instructor Hye-won—gearing up for another match. Their movements were precise, their focus unshakable.

"What are they doing?" Jin-kyong whispered to Soo-jin, who shrugged in confusion.

Director Hye-su's voice cut through the murmurs.

"The instructors are preparing for another simulation. This time, however, they will not face a team of comparable skill. No. They will face something... different."

The students leaned forward, their curiosity piqued. The screen shifted, and the opposing side of the arena came into view. But instead of a team of five, there was only one figure.

A lone man stood against the instructors, his posture relaxed and unassuming. His face was obscured by a hood, and his name hovered above him, rendered only as ???.

Gasps rippled through the students.

"One guy?" Hyun-ae muttered, her disbelief mirrored by her teammates.

"No way," Kang-dae said, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the screen.

Director Hye-su folded her arms, her piercing gaze never leaving the screen.

"Even the strongest team can be brought to its knees by the right individual. Observe carefully."

The students exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier indignation giving way to a mix of apprehension and intrigue. Who was this mysterious opponent? And what could they possibly learn from a match so drastically skewed?

The answer, they knew, awaited them on the screen.

The room fell silent as all eyes remained glued to the screen. The mysterious figure moved with an eerie calm, as if utterly unfazed by the prospect of facing five of the most skilled individuals in NexaRealm. The instructors, usually confident and composed, seemed more cautious now, their movements measured as they positioned themselves.

This wasn't just another match—it was a spectacle, a test, a revelation waiting to unfold. For the students, it was an unspoken challenge: to watch, to learn, and to confront the gap between where they were and where they needed to be.