Varik didn't smile. But the edge of his voice softened half a decibel.
"Stop dragging your feet. Kick through. Drive with the ball."
Lucen muttered, "'Drive with the ball,' he says. Like I'm built for this."
"You're built for dying if you don't."
Lucen swayed slightly in place.
Then reset his stance. Hands up. Right leg back. Elbows in.
Same starting pose they'd been drilling since the sun was higher.
'If I see this position in my sleep I'm suing someone.'
—
This time, Varik stepped in.
Not an attack.
Not a fake.
Just a shift forward to close the distance, gauging Lucen's tension.
Lucen didn't flinch. That was new.
Varik moved again, jab to the shoulder.
Lucen twisted, caught it on the outside of his arm, then countered with a lazy hook that barely made it halfway.
Varik raised one brow. "You gonna follow through or was that a suggestion?"
Lucen lowered his fists.
"I was just giving you a preview."
"Of?"
