Passing through the simulated Gate was like plunging into ice water. For a disorienting second, Soumya's senses dissolved into a swirling blue vortex. Then, the world snapped into focus with a lurch.
They were in a cave. The air was damp and smelled of mildew and something foul, like old meat. Dim, phosphorescent moss cast an eerie green glow on the rough-hewn rock walls. The only path forward was a narrow tunnel, just wide enough for Anil's shield.
"Standard goblin den. Pathetic," Rohan sneered, the blue light from his sword cutting through the gloom. "Anil, move up. Slow and steady."
Anil grunted in acknowledgement, raising his shield and advancing into the tunnel. The rest of the team followed in a tight file. The tunnel opened into a small, circular chamber, perhaps twenty meters across. It wasn't empty.
Six goblins, their skin the colour of diseased moss and their eyes like malevolent yellow beads, were hunched around a crackling fire. They shrieked as one when they saw the Hunters, grabbing rusty cleavers and sharpened femurs.
"Just fodder! Strikers on me!" Rohan yelled, completely ignoring his own plan. He burst past Anil's shield, his sword a blur of blue light. "I'll take the four on the left!"
It was a disaster waiting to happen.
"Wait, formation—!" Anil grunted, but it was too late. Rohan was already in the thick of it.
Rohan was fast and powerful, no doubt about it. He cut down the first goblin in a single, clean strike. But his charge had been reckless, breaking their defensive line. The remaining goblins swarmed him. He parried one cleaver, dodged another, but a third slipped past his guard and raked across his thigh, drawing a pained hiss.
With Rohan out of position, Anil was a sitting duck. He could only face forward. Two goblins, seeing the opening, scuttled around his shield, their claws screeching as they scraped against the rock wall. They lunged for his unprotected flank.
In the back, Priya panicked. She raised her staff, a ball of wavering energy forming at its tip. "[Mana Bolt]!" she squeaked. The bolt shot forth, wild and unfocused, missing the goblins entirely and exploding against the far wall in a harmless shower of sparks.
The team was collapsing. They were going to fail in the very first room.
Soumya, standing at the rear as ordered, felt a surge of adrenaline. But it was cold, not hot. The panic was there, a frantic bird beating against her ribs, but her mind was strangely, unnaturally calm. She activated her skill.
[Eidetic Recall engaged. Analyzing combat situation.]
Her perception shifted. The chaotic brawl resolved into a series of data points. She wasn't watching a fight; she was watching a system with predictable inputs and outputs. And her team's outputs were all wrong.
[Analyzing asset: 'Rohan Singh'.]
[Pattern Identified: After a three-swing combo, a 0.8 second recovery window opens. Fails to check flank during offensive maneuvers.]
[Analyzing asset: 'Anil Kumar'.]
[Pattern Identified: Footing is too narrow when shield is raised. Creates a 45-degree blind spot to his left.]
[Analyzing asset: 'Priya Patel'.]
[Pattern Identified: Mana circulation wavers due to hesitation. Gaze is fixed on mana bolt formation, not the target, resulting in poor accuracy.]
They were a mess of exploitable flaws. But flaws were patterns. And patterns could be countered.
"Anil!" Soumya's voice was sharp, cutting through the chaos. "Take one step left! Plant your feet wider!"
The big Warden, about to be gutted, reacted on pure instinct. He shuffled to the left, widening his stance just as she'd said. The two flanking goblins, lunging for where he was, crashed into the edge of his now-positioned shield. He roared and slammed them against the wall.
"Rohan, backstep! After your next swing!"
Rohan, gritting his teeth as he parried another blow, was about to shout at her to shut up. But his body was already at its limit. He swung his sword, and on instinct, followed her command, taking a single, sharp step back. A rusty cleaver sliced through the air exactly where his chest had been. The 0.8-second window she'd seen.
"Priya!" Soumya's voice was commanding now, all traces of nervousness gone. "Stop looking at your staff. Look at the goblin with the bent sword. Aim for its chest. Cast now!"
Priya flinched, but she obeyed. Her head snapped up, her eyes locking onto the target. The [Mana Bolt] she fired was still shaky, but it was true. It struck the designated goblin square in the chest, sending it tumbling backwards with a squeal.
It was working.
The fight wasn't over, but it was no longer a one-sided slaughter. It was a messy, desperate struggle, but they were holding.
"Anil, shield bash the one on the right!"
"Rohan, your thigh is injured. Use piercing thrusts, not wide slashes!"
"Priya, fire again! Same target!"
Her commands were quiet, precise, and perfectly timed. She wasn't fighting. She was conducting. She was seeing the patterns in the chaos, the tiny tells and fractional openings, and feeding the data to her team just before they needed it.
Slowly, impossibly, the tide turned. One by one, the remaining goblins fell. The last one tried to flee, but a final, well-aimed [Mana Bolt] from Priya dropped it.
Silence fell over the chamber, broken only by the ragged, desperate panting of Team 12.
Anil leaned against his shield, breathing heavily, a long scratch down his arm. Priya looked like she was about to faint. Rohan stood over the last goblin corpse, his injured thigh bleeding through his suit, his face a mask of disbelief and wounded pride.
They all turned to look at Soumya, who stood at the entrance to the chamber, her cheap knife still in its sheath. She hadn't moved a single step into the fight. But she had won it for them.