She gestured, and the ground beneath them shifted, the neat tiles rippling like water before reforming into an arena of cracked stone and rising spires. The light dimmed as illusion magic enveloped them, the sky now a heavy gray.
"This is your first evaluation as a unit," Morgana said. "You will face three adaptive constructs. They mirror not only your strength, but your intent."
Nathan frowned. "Our… intent?"
"Meaning," she continued, "if you hesitate, it will not. If you doubt, it will strike. If you break formation—"
"—we lose," Merlin finished quietly.
Morgana nodded once. "Precisely."
She stepped back, folding her arms. "Begin."
The air snapped.
From the shifting dust ahead, three silhouettes formed, human in shape but sculpted from light and shadow. Each moved like a reflection of their opponent.
One stepped toward Merlin, its eyes flaring gold.
Another faced Elara, its spear materializing from fractured mana.
