Another glitch—as David executed a perfect counter-strike, his vision split momentarily, showing him both Elara before him and, superimposed like a ghostly overlay, a different battlefield entirely. White-hot pain lanced through his temples, and his strike missed by millimeters. He covered the error by transitioning into a defensive stance, but secretly, his heart raced with concern. The dimensional fractures were getting worse.
For several minutes, they danced across the training yard, neither gaining decisive advantage. David's unusual fighting style kept Elara from easily anticipating his movements, while her superior experience and formal training allowed her to counter his techniques effectively. Throughout it all, David pushed himself harder, cataloging each momentary glitch, each flicker of pain that signaled the dimensional instability affecting his body.
"Enough warming up," Elara said suddenly, stepping back. "Let's see where you truly stand."
