Warrior Training System

A few hours earlier...

In a dimly lit lab filled with glowing monitors and whirring machines, Evans stood at the center, his arms crossed as he observed the screens. Each one displayed different angles of the "examinees" battling various foes. His expression was calm, almost clinical, as he watched the desperate struggles unfold.

"We've gathered enough data," Evans finally said, his voice carrying an edge of anticipation. "Let's proceed with the final test."n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Around him, lab workers moved quickly, their footsteps echoing in the sterile environment. Some adjusted the controls, while others monitored the equipment, their faces tense but focused. The atmosphere buzzed with urgency as they prepared for the next phase.

Inside the dense den, Cassian and the others were in the midst of relentless combat. The air was filled with the clash of steel, the grunts of effort, and the occasional cry of pain. This time, the clones had come in groups, each one fighting with calculated precision. The group was visibly frustrated, their movements growing sluggish as exhaustion set in.

Many of the examinees bore wounds, blood seeping through torn clothes and armor. Yet, their eyes remained fierce, driven by the primal will to survive. Even in their battered state, none of them showed any sign of giving up—not yet.

Cassian fought with an intense focus, his movements sharp and deliberate. Across from him, a clone of a formidable warrior mirrored his aggression. Around the battlefield, others were locked in equally challenging fights, the stronger members of the group handling individual clones while the weaker ones paired up to fight as a team.

The strategy was clear: keep the clones separated and prevent them from overwhelming anyone. But it was easier said than done. The clones moved with an eerie synchronization, constantly testing their limits.

Cassian darted through the battlefield, his movements alternating between bursts of blistering speed and graceful, fluid steps. The wind seemed to echo his presence, sharp and forceful one moment, soft and elusive the next. His fight against the clone of Selene ended swiftly; he overwhelmed it in just a few minutes, leaving its shattered form behind as he turned his focus elsewhere.

He wasn't the first to finish. Larick, already ahead, had dispatched his opponent and was making his way to assist others. Cassian followed suit, his sharp eyes locking onto Amina's struggle against a silver-haired clone wielding a peculiar pin-shaped spear.

The clone fought with calculated precision, its weapon glowing faintly as it released missile-like projectiles with every thrust. The attacks were relentless, forcing Amina to constantly dodge and parry. She managed to deflect most of the projectiles, but the clone was unyielding, pressing its advantage with swift, long-range thrusts.

One of these sudden lunges caught her off guard. The clone closed the distance with a single, powerful leap, the spear aimed directly at her chest. Amina reacted instinctively, raising her weapon to block the strike, but the sheer force of the attack sent her staggering backward. She slammed into a tree with a sharp grunt, her stance faltering as she tried to regain her footing.

The clone didn't wait for Amina to recover. It flashed forward with another thrust, this time angling upward from below, aiming for a decisive blow. But before it could land, a sudden gust of wind seemed to knock it off balance.

Cassian appeared between them, a blur of motion. His strike was precise and devastating, slamming the clone to the ground with enough force to send it skidding several feet away. The impact was brutal—its arm, just above the joint, was nearly severed, dangling uselessly as it struggled to rise, and soon falling down and didn't moving.

Amina, now slumped on the ground, stared up at Cassian with wide, surprised eyes. He glanced back at her with a smirk, his confidence unshaken despite the chaos around them.

"Was that cool enough for you?" he asked, his tone light and teasing. "Did you, by chance, get those lips ready yet?"

Amina blinked, her surprise giving way to an exasperated groan. "Seriously, Cassian?" she muttered, shaking her head even as a small smile tugged at her lips.

As Cassian helped Amina to her feet, the sounds of battle around them began to die down. Most of the other fights had already ended, the exhausted fighters regrouping and tending to their injuries.

Cassian's attention shifted toward the last skirmish. Selene and another teammate were wrapping up their fight against a single clone. Both of them staggered toward the group, their arms covered in wounds, blood soaking into their torn clothes.

The sight surprised everyone. Selene and her partner were known for their skill, capable of handling a clone each without breaking a sweat. Yet here they were, battered and bruised, struggling after fighting just one clone. Find your next adventure on empire

The group exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of realization settling over them.

"That... wasn't normal," Larick muttered, his gaze flickering to Cassian.

Amina, leaning on Cassian for support, frowned. "That clone—it wasn't like the others. It was... stronger."

Cassian's jaw tightened as he stared at the fallen clone in the distance. He didn't need anyone to say it aloud; he already knew. That clone was a reflection of him—his skills, his techniques, his fighting spirit.

While they had faced countless clones of each other, none had been as dangerous as this one. It raised a troubling question: if one clone of Cassian was this difficult, how much worse could it get?

Selene wiped the blood from her brow as she approached Cassian, her tone edged with frustration. "Next time your clone shows up, a little warning would be nice. That thing didn't just fight like you—it fought better. It even used that wind-based technique of yours perfectly than you do."

Cassian shrugged, though his expression remained serious. "Guess it's my way of keeping you all on your toes."

Despite the attempt at humor, no one laughed. The weight of what they were up against had settled heavily over the group.

Back in the lab, Evans smirked as he leaned closer to one of the screens. "Let's see how long they last," he muttered.

A lab assistant approached him cautiously. "The subjects are nearing their physical limits. Should we intervene if—"

"No," Evans interrupted, his tone cold. "This isn't just about their endurance. We need to see who breaks first—mentally and physically."

The assistant hesitated but nodded, stepping back to resume their work.