The morning air was still, almost too quiet.
Even the river seemed subdued, flowing in hushed currents beneath the bridge. The usual rhythm of their training felt muted, like the world was holding its breath.
Lu's movements were off from the start. Her swings lacked their usual precision, her footwork hesitant.
24 noticed immediately.
"You're distracted," he said, tilting his head.
"I… I feel someone," she admitted, voice low. "Watching."
He raised an eyebrow, adjusting the stance of his long blade. "How many?"
"Three," she said, eyes scanning the perimeter. "Two on the ridge, one near the fallen boulder."
24's expression didn't change, but his eyes flicked toward each location — a subtle, almost imperceptible shift.
"You missed two," he said quietly.
She froze, gripping her blade tighter. "What—how?"
"You weren't looking for everything," he said. His voice was calm, unhurried, but sharp enough to cut through the tension. "I've seen them the whole time."
The weight of realization hit her. 24 hadn't moved. He hadn't warned her. Yet he knew — every step, every shadow, every possibility.
For a long moment, the two of them simply stared, separated by the silence of the bridge and the murmuring river.
Finally, Lu exhaled through her mask. "What do we do?"
"We keep training," he said. "Like nothing's wrong."
"We pretend?"
"We observe," he corrected. "They'll make their move if they think we're unaware. Let's see what happens first."
She nodded slowly, forcing herself back into rhythm. The blades in her hands felt heavier than usual, but she swung them anyway.
24 mirrored her motion, his strikes deliberate, controlled, almost slower than usual. The rhythm returned — blades clashing, dust rising, breath matching the river's flow.
All the while, the three shadows lingered at the edges of their vision.
Lu's heartbeat thumped like a drum in her ears, but she didn't break her stance. She didn't panic.
Because for the first time, she understood: 24 saw everything.
And if he saw everything… she could trust the space between the swings.
They trained on, pretending the world outside the bridge didn't exist.
But neither of them ignored it. The shadows were there, waiting, and every movement beneath the sun felt charged with possibility.
And as the day stretched on, Lu realized — surviving wasn't just about strength, speed, or reflex.
It was about patience. Awareness. And knowing when to move, and when to wait.