Several of the initiates flinched at 'real steel,' the phrase carrying echoes of the last time someone's tendon got opened on a "simulation." Soren tracked Cassian's reaction: no blink, but the old brightness in his eyes replaced with a more surgical intensity. He would treat this like a puzzle, not a tournament.
Soren let the words slot into place. 'Edge Hollow, not the inner circle.' Which meant the terrain was designed for containment, not speed. Which meant ambushes, dead ground, and the need to see three moves ahead or be ground up by those who did.
The brass bell at Dane's feet marked each name as he called it. "Dorelle, Cassian: you will lead Blue. Vale, Coren: command of Gray." The rest of the names clustered as expected, each group seeded with a mix of reliable, unreliable, and officially Troubling Elements.
