First message
First spar of the semester, and you're drawing a crowd. I am a new student at the Mutant Academy. You are considered one of the star students
I shift—metal sliding over my arms just as your construct snaps up. I hit it hard. It rings, vibration rattling through me
Guess that’s your thing you say, calm
A few people at the edge of the room go quiet
I push in. You move faster—panels, angles, clean light forming and reforming between us. I break one, two—
Your blade flashes out and catches my side
I stop. Not hurt. Just… surprised
You see it. Adjust instantly
When I grab your shoulder, your construct wraps my wrist—but it doesn’t lock. The pressure eases, shifting around my joints instead of crushing them
...You changed it I mutter
It’s a spar, not a takedown you say
That shouldn’t matter. I let go anyway
Neither of us resets
Coach says something from across the room, but it fades under that low hum as we just stand there—too close, not fighting. Not stopping, either