I had ten minutes to warm up before we started. That's what Travers said before he left. I already limbered up and didn't really have any casting drills to practice for my skill set. Only three minutes had passed, and I was already starting to sweat. I've "sparred" with Hank several times in the past, the only sense of improvement I get is the fact that I can take more than four hits on a good day, opposed to hitting the floor after one noggin jostling. I went over scenarios in my head of how to get the jump on the guy, naturally, I came to plan A. He won't know what hit him.

However this session ended, I had plans to hang out with Alina at the end of today, so whether it's spent licking my wounds, or celebrating my first W crossing fists with Hank, I was looking forward to today. Just as I finished that thought, green sparks crackled throughout the training hall, rebounding off of the warded walls causing ripples of ambient magic to resonate along the walls. After a couple of seconds, a green metal door flung open and out came Wyatt tumbling into the floor in front of me, looking clearly distressed.

"Uh, hey there Wyatt."

He scowled at me as he made his way back to his feet. "What the hell's going on here you jackass?" He looked me up and down, seeing how I was dressed for a workout, with my tank top and track pants. It took a couple of seconds, but he realized from the way I was dressed that I was here consensually, but from my face he could tell I didn't know he was getting dragged here. He sucked his teeth, "Fuckin' Travers." He was dressed like he had just gotten out of bed; he started fiddling with this sweatband he always wore, even to bed apparently, and after a moment he slapped his hands together causing the band to light up with runic designs. To my surprise I actually couldn't tell what kind of rune recipe he used while I watched, looks like Wyatt's made himself a bit of a specialist.

The energy surged across his arms as he unclasped his hands and drew them apart steadily. I think he was showing off or something. Once the flow of energy became more stable, he ripped his hands outward, and the rest of this weird tool-belt appeared in front of him! It was decked out with similar objects to the ones I've seen him use to shoot force bolts from.

"A summoning scripture?! How'd you pull that off? I've only seen examples of that in texts."

All while never looking in my direction, Wyatt grasped the ends of the belt as it stopped floating and clasped the buckle around his waist, "If all I studied were how to make big explosions and punches, I'd just be another stooge like you or Kurt."

I ignored that, because Travers walked his way out of that door finally, and he's the type to sucker-punch you for not paying attention. Ambient surges and sparks of magis flashed throughout the atmosphere of the training hall. The walls were warded, but beneath the wards lied reinforced spectile. With the wards in place that usually wouldn't matter, but the force with which the excess magis from Travers crashed into the walls, the spectile beneath was actually giving off glints of color. Spots of dark green fluctuated into hues of blue and finally dissipated into grungy yellows before disappearing altogether. I never could put my finger on the basis of Travers' method of zipping around and throwing portals around out of thin air, but I'm starting to understand that the more complex a style is, the more elemental attributes are involved. Cool as it is, it seems like a pain in the ass to maintain.

At this point I'm done watching everyone show off, "I gotta hand it to you old timer, you really know how to make an entrance. So what's Wyatt doing here? I'm ready to lay you out all on my own!" A quarter-truth as it was in my head, I had a trick or two up my sleeve after doing a little theorizing, and I couldn't wait to see the look on his face if I could pull it off.

"That's the spirit Tyson, a young man like yourself should always seek a challenge. Just for that I'll allow you and your partner the first move." Hank slipped on his gloves and stood neutrally while Wyatt and I took in what he had just said.

Wyatt took a deep breath, "No, you can't keep me here, and I'm not working with him. I'm going to walk out of here now and do my own training. The next attack that occurs, or next mission we have, whatever it is I can handle my share of things on my own." He glared over at me, " Have fun spending your free time getting thrashed. I'm going to go make actual use of my time."

"Mr. Thompson, let's make a wager." Hank interjected with an air of mischief. "With or without Mr. Stengram's help, if you can land a single blow on me, magian or otherwise, I will allow you to take the reins on your own further development." Wyatt stared at Hank coldly as he waited for the catch, because it was obvious there had to be one. "However, if the combined efforts of both of you young men can not even so much as make a scratch on my tailor-made garb... I will be forced to continue to treat you as the children you are for your own safety."

Wyatt spit at the floor. "Let's up the ante, I completely waste you on my own and you tell me everything that happened that night. You know what I'm talking about Travers, you've kept me in the dark for way too long."

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Hank smiled seeing that Wyatt took his bait with more of a fervor than he expected. " I believe we have a deal Mr. Thompson." His smile went from patronizing to creepy, like a snake with his eyes closed. He's coming soon, for sure.

I raised my hand meekly feeling kinda left out of the situation, "Hey so, am I peanut gallery or what? I came here to train like you asked, as entertaining as it might be I don't feel like spending my afternoon watching Wyatt get sent to Downtown Comboville while I sit by and watch."

"I leave that choice in your hands Tyson, if you decide to standby until it's your turn and do some reconnaissance in the meantime, I won't penalize you for that. If you somehow surmount a victory over me, we can go over the terms of your reward at that point." Hank began hopping in place. I guess he's had enough back and forth, better get my hands up.

I widened my stance in case of him trying to throw me off, " Fine by me, I guess I'll take advantage of the choose your own adventure format here and keep you guessing."

Wyatt kept his hands at his sides and strafed around Travers, watching for any signal of an impending charge from him. He drew and twirled one of his gizmos in his left hand, using his off hand to point a finger at me. "You keep out of this; I'd rather eat pavement than owe any success to you."

I retorted with some facetious cheer, "Noted pal, go give him what for!" I had already made my mind up anyway. As impressive as Wyatt could be in some regards, he's not beating Hank in a head on fight without at least a distraction. I decided to a take page out of his book in the meantime and use this chance to study both of their combat schemes. If not just to find whatever kinks they needed to work out that I could exploit, maybe to find inspiration for ways to use my own skillset. I sauntered over to a corner near the door and popped squat. For now, plan A was going to sit in the chamber.

Wyatt didn't approach Hank at all, and continued circling around him at a range of roughly twenty yards. Hank didn't mind, and kept his steady pace hopping in place as his calves ballooned with power. Seemingly on a whim, Wyatt took aim and popped off three rounds of force bolts in Hank's direction. Hank swayed between them with minimal movement, zero wasted energy. Wyatt, unimpressed fired several more bolts, each having higher speed than the last volley. Again Hank glided between the grouping of the rounds, returning to his original position. Wyatt didn't miss a beat and after a pause, began letting off rounds with varying speed at and around Hank whose footwork allowed him to deftly maneuver between each, but this time he was being kept busy by the varied velocities of each shot. This was actually starting to get pretty good; I've only ever seen Hank spar with me, but someone with a little more range and finesse proved to be a little more of a challenge for him. Maybe Wyatt has what it takes to win this bet.

Just as soon as the possibility had crossed my mind, he finally drew another tool with his off hand that was the colored like rust, it immediately glowed in resonance once it was in his grasp. As quickly as that flash of light went by, Wyatt's new (to me at least) and bulkier caster released a blast of force that wobbled in shape as it careened into the floor where Travers was about to land, exploding on contact. Not only did the force of the explosion push me back towards the wall I squatted in front of, but the force was enough to make me wince and take my eyes off of the two combatants. "Holy shit!" I couldn't help but exclaim when I saw the outcome.

Wyatt was out cold on the floor, Hank standing over him taking time to fix his suit. I looked down at my watch, eighty-four seconds had passed since Wyatt made the first attack, and for a second I thought he had the upper hand! I really gotta be on my toes. Hank picked up Wyatt's slumped over body and dragged him over to the nearest wall, whispering a few words before causing a wind ward to create a bubble around Wyatt. After he tapped the ward with a few kicks for good measure, he turned to me. "Mr. Stengram I believe it is now your turn. The clause of you doing as you see fit in our arrangement only stands as long as Mr. Thompson is still participating."

I wracked my brain trying to figure out what to do next, that exchange was too short for me to glean anything out of. Wyatt is definitely a smart fighter who knows how to ease into things, the opposite of my style, which in theory could make us an awesome team. The problem is, I let him get knocked out before I knew what in the world was going on. The only thing I learned about Hank was that he could somehow dodge in mid-air. Well, in any case this is what plan A was designed for.

Here I go! Leaving no room for any banter, I made a mad dash to get my hands on Travers, he waited patiently, this time with his feet firmly planted on the floor. He intended to take me head on huh? I'll let him think he'll have his way for now. I met his expectations, going with a rush of jabs. I continued to pepper him with increased speed, using some footwork he taught me to dance around him a bit and try some awkward angles against him. If he didn't sway, he blocked, but I'll be damned if I was going to give him breathing room for a counter hit on me. The plan was working, I started to graze him more and more as he started to tire out from all the dodging. One of the properties of the magis within me is that it has great fuel economy, it takes a lot of work for my body to start sweating, and even more for me to start running out of breath. When it comes to stamina, I'm number one in this or any matchup!

Hank must've realized this fact too because he finally made an effort to hop back and get himself some distance. "As if I'd let you!" I huffed as sent out a low-kick with all of the strength I could muster behind it. I felt my heart beating out of my chest as I witnessed Hank cringe before his knee buckled and he began to topple over falling backward. I spun around and lunged forward not wanting to lose my momentum. This is it! I cocked my arm back, ramping up my tendons and sucking in what breath I could before laying into him. His gloves lit up as green haze began to form behind his back, he leaned into the fall and disappeared into the smoke! My fist passed right through the smoke and caused it to dissipate with a puff. I hear a crackle behind me, and fought to whip around a-