Reo hit the ground hard.
The impact rattled through him. Sending a jolt up his spine as his body skidded across the virtual terrain.
Dirt clung to his clothes, his skin, the grit pressing into his palms as he tried, and failed, to push himself up.
His chest heaved, each breath sharp and ragged. Like his lungs were lined with broken glass.
The simulation dulled the worst of the pain. But the exhaustion? That was real. His muscles burned, trembling under the strain. His vision swimming as sweat stung his eyes.
He blinked it away. His gaze flickering toward the blurred figure standing over him.
'How many times has it been now?'
Ten? Twenty? He'd lost count. Every time he thought he'd found an opening, every time he lunged, every time he almost landed a hit.
Kyle was already gone. Already stepping aside. Already driving a fist into his ribs. A knee into his gut. The tachi piercing into his throat.
'This isn't training.'
This is a massacre.
