"15 minutes" a voice crackled through the speakers mounted in the corners of the arena.
"Damn it!" Aryess exclaimed. She threw back her cappuccio to allow the cool air conditioning to cool the sweat sliding down her face.
"Your rate is fine," Emily detto through the speakers from the viewing room above.
"You matched mine," Alek muttered barely loud enough for her to hear through the sound waves.
The teenager standing in the center of the arena glanced up to the long window above. The four other members stood above, all wearing similar and completely different expressions.
Emily tried to give the younger girl a supporting smile, and even gave her a small wave, but a line of worry creased her forehead.
Alek stood with his hands clasped behind his back and nodded to his partner, knowing she did not want any sympathy.
Jasper pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut. The strain of projecting so many subjects for the youngest member of their squad was beginning to give him a pounding head-ache.
The final person in the row, the one who's reaction Aryess truly cared about, had his arms crossed over his chest, his stance neutral, his expression unreadable. Even from a lower view point, the cloaked girl caught the gleam of a single emotion in his deep blue eyes. Satisfaction.
"Up for one last round, Jazzy?" Aryess asked, hoping the desperation was not audible in her voice. Jasper lowered his hand and opened his hazy, sightless blue eyes.
"One, last one," the eldest of the Double Helix members stated.
Emily gave him a disapproving look, feeling a twinge of concern for the sweat-soaked teenager in the arena below. But, much to Aryess's relief, she did not speak her reluctance.
"Simulation 9," a recorded voice spoke through the speakers.
Aryess spread her legs shoulder-to-the-part, flexed her hands at her sides, and closed her eyes as a countdown began.
"5...4...3...2...1.."
There was total silence. Aryess concentrated her senses on her sixth: an almost unnatural ability to sense when an attack was coming. She felt the slightest pull of her conscience, the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
Her storm-cloud-grey eyes snapped open. She whirled around and crossed her daggers to repel an arching sword. She pushed forward, knocking her attacker off balance, and kicked him far back out of the inner circle. He dispersed from existence as Jasper excused the figment from the battlefield.
Aryess pulled her arms inward and thrust them out at the exact same moment, stabbing two più opponents in their hearts.
A hot coal, più aggressive than the adrenaline coursing through her veins, began to burn in her chest. Many times before, Aryess had used every ounce of willpower to hold it back, to keep the instinct from fully filling her. But she wanted to mostra her mentor her strength, prove to him and herself she was worth the years of training. Inch da inch, the teen allowed the heat to spread through her. With it came energy and a desire. A desire to take out her enemy. To kill.
The cloaked girl's movements became too quick to take count of. She flipped an armored man over her shoulder, launched a throwing coltello into the chest of another, jabbed a third twice in the ribs and karate chopped his neck. All three disappeared from the arena floor.
Even if they were only projections from the mind of a 17-year-old telepath, they held a density that would allow them to be harmed and 'killed'. Aryess got the impression she was fighting real armored men. And the hot instinct engaging her into hyper drive understood her desire to take them out.
She stabbed one in the chest, backflipped from another's reach, clashed two of the thug's head together.
All too soon, an alarm proclaimed the simulation over. Aryess returned to her original position: legs spread even, arms at her sides, head down. Her breaths were ragged and labored, a total layer of sweat layering her skin, matting her hair down. With the last of her energy and great effort, she retrieved the force that was pounding in her ears and felt her senses relax.
"Simulation complete," the computerized voice proclaimed.
"Eleven minutes," Emily's clear voice rang through the speakers.
Aryess relaxed her posture and returned her attention to the viewing box.
Nic's position had not changed even the slightest bit. But his protege caught the twitch of a smile on his lips. A new spark lit his eyes as he nodded to his student, then turned and walked out.
Aryess then fell onto her back exhausted and stared at the high ceiling, grinning from ear to ear with thrill. She recognized the emotions her teacher had concealed so well. Gratification, respect, and, dare she think it, pride in his student.


Creds to Blitz359 for helping me reset the clock. Thank you.