Blackout

Tobias' POV

She peeled the steel sphere from her shoulder like it was an insect. It was half-crushed, smoking, red with heat.

Then she dropped it.

Her expression had changed. No more irritation. No more smugness.

Now?

Now she was angry.

And she moved like it.

She came at us like a storm given form—and this time, we couldn't stop her.

Every hit was calculated devastation. She slipped through gaps in our formation and punished us for every slow pivot, every missed timing.

I blocked an elbow only to eat a spinning heel kick to the ribs. I hit the floor hard, rolled, came back up—barely.

She was too fast.

But then I felt something.

A crackle. A hum. A pull on my senses that wasn't just sight or sound. It wasn't vision. It wasn't hearing.

I couldn't describe it. Couldn't explain it. But I could use it.

I ducked.

Her foot whipped past where my head had been a second earlier.

I moved before I saw.

Still, it wasn't enough.

Because she wasn't testing us anymore.

She was fighting like someone who had decided to end this.

Liam stepped forward, and I saw it—his suit glowing, seams burning.

His hands crumbled into ash mid-motion, reconstituting in bursts of fire as he struck. His sleeves burned, revealing cracked skin and ember veins leaking smoke.

Ash Husk. To the limit.

He traded blows with her for three seconds.

Then he was sent skidding across the floor, coughing up fire.

Zoey took a different route.

She covered her entire body in stone. Not armor. Not plating. A shell.

A statue.

Each time the proctor landed a blow, Zoey reshaped the surface. Hands, arms, legs—reforming, shielding, locking down the terrain.

She didn't move. It wouldn't have made a difference.

She was buying time.

The floor suddenly imploded. It was Zoey's attempt to try and limit her movement.

Didn't matter.

She still moved like lightning.

Raika went berserk.

Hair on end. Tail extended. Fingers turned to claws.

But not mindless.

Controlled. Precise. She moved like an apex predator. Calm. Focused.

The rage was there. But it was honed.

She and Liam boxed her in. Almost.

That's when I signaled.

Zoey nodded.

William—barely recovered—raised his hands.

Darkness swept over the room.

Not complete.

Just thick enough to swallow light, to blur movement, to silence breath.

We adapted fast.

Raika took control. She moved with purpose, her strikes keeping the proctor from adjusting.

I couldn't see.

Didn't need to.

I could feel her. That same pressure. That same weight.

I charged. Flames burst from my back. One final punch, fueled by every ounce of acceleration and power I had.

I struck where she was—

And missed.

A hand caught my wrist. Too fast.

Then came the storm.

I saw William fall. Erik crumple. Raika crash into Zoey.

And then it was me.

The blow hit like a detonation. My vision collapsed inward.

The world turned to static. Then nothing.

Pitch black.

Again.