The wind carried a faint scent of ozone.
By the time the illusion faded fully, the world outside the barrier felt strangely peaceful, like the chaos of the simulated battlefield had been nothing but a fever dream.
Merlin sat at the edge of the field, shirt sleeve torn where the blade had cut him. Blood had dried, crusting faintly over the shallow wound.
Nathan crouched beside him, tossing him a small canister. "Here. Morgana's version of disinfectant."
Merlin caught it, twisting the cap open. The stinging smell hit instantly. "This smells like death."
Nathan grinned. "So it's probably working."
Elara, standing a few steps away, crossed her arms. "You should've dodged. That construct wasn't subtle."
Merlin looked up at her with a small smirk. "Maybe I wanted to test its damage output."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're impossible."
"Efficient," he corrected.
Nathan snorted. "You call bleeding efficient now?"
