The fifth node dropped in high-speed rotation. Only a perfectly timed sync shot would down it.

I charged up a burst.

Leo saw it at the same time I did.

We both moved.

Different angles. Same moment.

The node dropped, and we hit it together—my lightning lancing through the core a split-second before Leo’s flame enveloped it.

As I moved on, Leo suddenly came to a stop. He had a mischievous grin on his face. 

He clapped his palms together.

“We’ve still got seven more to go, what are you doing?” I asked impatiently.

He pulled his hands apart, conjuring a large orb of swirling flames.

“When I say go, I want you to hit all seven.”

Wait. He isn’t seriously planning on—

“GO!”

Shards of flame exploded out, racing to hit their targets. 

Shit.

I took a deep breath, and focused, ignoring the fact that I had mere seconds before I would possibly fail.

Each moment felt like an eternity as I quickly scanned the field for all the targets.

I forced the lightning to pool in my hands—too fast, too much, my skin already tingling with heat—and let instinct take over.

Three. Two. One.

I didn’t aim—I just reacted. Felt the hum of motion and let the lightning crack forward, seven bolts in a breath.

The spheres collectively burst in an explosive flash of light. The buzzer rang.

Trial complete.

For a moment, no one said a word. 

The lights dimmed, the scorched scent of ozone still in the air.

Then applause—hesitant, scattered—like they weren’t sure if what just happened was allowed.

I laughed in disbelief, realizing that I had managed to hit all seven targets.

Mr. Turner gave us a nod and dismissed us.

Later, while packing up gear, Leo sat on the bench beside me instead of leaving like the others.

“You fight like you’re afraid to land a killing blow,” he said. “Like you’re afraid of winning.”

I didn’t reply.

He tapped the bench once with his knuckles and stood.

“I meant it earlier. You’ve got edge. You just don’t know what to do with it yet.”

Then, for the first time since I met him, Leo said something that didn’t sound like a threat.

“Let me know when you’re tired of holding back. Trust me, it’s worse than losing.”

He walked away.

I didn’t know what bothered me more—

The fact that he was offering help.

Or the fact that part of me was tempted to take it.