The clang of swords filled the training room, a rhythm of metal meeting metal as she and Vance sparred for what felt like the hundredth time. Sweat poured down her temples, and her arms burned with effort, but she refused to let up. Vance, ever the relentless taskmaster, showed no signs of slowing.
"Come on," he barked, deflecting her swing with a casual flick of his wrist. "You're holding back. Or are you finally tired?"
She growled, pivoting on her heel and launching another strike, this time aiming for his shoulder. He dodged effortlessly, the smirk on his face growing wider.
"Tired? I'm just getting started," she shot back, feigning confidence as her muscles screamed in protest.
"Sure you are," he said, spinning his blade with maddening ease. "Is that what you'll tell the beasts when they're two inches from tearing your throat out?"
Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword. She hated how he could be so calm while she felt like she was on the verge of collapse. But there was no way she'd let him win—not again.
She lunged forward, sword aimed low. He parried and countered with a swipe at her midsection. She twisted out of the way just in time, feeling the rush of air from his blade. The longer they fought, the sharper her movements became. Her body, already conditioned by countless hours of training, started to adapt. She wasn't just keeping up anymore—she was pushing past her limits.
"Faster," Vance barked, stepping back and raising his sword defensively. "If you can't outpace me, you're dead. Again."
That word—again—lit a fire in her. She wasn't going to let him bring up the past. Not now. Her legs moved before her mind could catch up, a blur of speed carrying her across the mat. Her sword clashed against his, the force of the blow reverberating through her arms. He stumbled slightly, his smirk faltering for the first time.
"That's more like it," he muttered, adjusting his stance.
She didn't give him a chance to recover. Each swing came faster than the last, her movements growing sharper and more precise. Her speed increased with every passing second, her body burning with adrenaline. She could feel the implant in her nerves humming to life, syncing with her muscles as her reflexes became almost instinctive.
"You wanted fast?" she spat, her voice breathless but sharp. "Try keeping up."
Vance's eyes narrowed as she came at him with a flurry of strikes, her sword moving so quickly it blurred. He blocked one, two, three blows, but the fourth slipped through, grazing the fabric of his sleeve.
He stepped back, clearly impressed but refusing to show it. "Alright Speedy Gonzales. You've made your point."
"Not yet, I haven't," she replied, her blade flashing in the light as she lunged again.
This time, she went for his legs. He jumped back, but not far enough. She swept her blade low, tapping his knee with the flat of her sword. He stumbled, cursing under his breath.
"Point to me," she said, chest heaving as she straightened.
Vance laughed, shaking his head. "I'll give it to you—you're faster than you look. But speed alone won't save you."
She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. "Didn't need saving, did I?"
He wiped the sweat from his brow, still catching his breath. "Alright. You win this round. But next time, I'm not holding back."
"Next time," she echoed, twirling her sword in her hand. "Maybe I'll lap you."
Vance smirked, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. She wasn't just getting faster—she was getting better. And he knew it.
The clang of swords slowed as the sparring session finally came to an end. She stood there, panting, her muscles screaming for mercy. Vance had stepped back, wiping his brow with a towel and offering her an approving nod. "You're improving. Almost made me sweat that time."
She rolled her eyes, sheathing her blade. "Almost? Sure, Vance. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Before he could retort, her earpiece buzzed to life, and the unmistakable voice of Byte filtered through. "report to Command. You've got a mission."
Her stomach dropped. Another mission. Her second since the black beast incident. The memory of that encounter—the haunting red eyes, the primal growl, the weight of its gaze,his thoughts in her mind—still lingered in the back of her mind. She shoved it aside. Focus.
"What's the op?" she asked, grabbing her gear.
"A cargo ship near the coast of Shanghai has been taken over by pirates," Byte replied. "Government's trying to keep it hush-hush because the cargo is… well, classified. Let's just say it's big enough to draw some serious attention if the pirates figure out what they've got. Three of you will be tasked."
"And they're sending three of us for classified cargo?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Sounds like they're sparing no expense."
Byte ignored her. "You, Ghost, and an A-Class agent called Volt. He'll meet you on-site. Clock's ticking."
She paused, mid-step. Ghost and Volt? These nicknames were getting ridiculous. First Ghost—who she'd learned could phase through walls, much to her shock—and now someone who sounded like he moonlighted as a human generator?
"Volt?" she muttered under her breath as she walked toward the mission briefing room. "What, does he charge our phones too?"
——————-
The helicopter ride was tense, the three of them seated in silence as the coast of Shanghai grew larger in the distance. Ghost sat across from her, his face as unreadable as ever. She glanced at him, her curiosity bubbling over.
"So… Ghost," she started, raising an eyebrow. "You ever get tired of the name? Or do you enjoy freaking people out when you walk through walls?"
Ghost smirked faintly but said nothing. He always seemed to relish the mystery.
Next to him, Volt was checking his gear, the faint hum of electricity crackling around his gloves. He looked up, catching her staring.
"What?" he asked, his tone flat.
She shrugged. "I just hope you don't short-circuit in the rain."
Ghost chuckled quietly, but Volt remained stoic. "Stick close, and maybe you'll learn a thing or two," he said, snapping his gloves on.
"Sure," she replied with a smirk. "Like how to glow in the dark?"