Mireille's eyes narrowed, her professional skepticism kicking in. "That's advanced tech, far beyond standard academy issue. Let's see if it works as advertised." Her gaze swept from the device on his wrist to his whole figure, as if sizing him up for a fight.
"Now," she said, her expression unreadable. "Dodge."
Without another word, she flicked her wrist. A small, smooth stone she'd palmed from a nearby planter shot through the air, a dark blur aimed directly at his head.
Zaeryn reacted on pure instinct, throwing himself sideways. The stone whistled past his ear, missing by an inch. He landed awkwardly, catching himself on one hand.
"Too slow," Mireille stated. "You saw it, then you reacted. By the time you see a Vorthak's strike, you're already dead. Your power should react for you. Your powers should not be a tool you pick up; they should be a part of you. Stop thinking. Stop trying to command it. Just… let it respond."
