A HARD LESSON

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"Fight it!" said Lawson. "Fight the pressure and climb up the ramp. The final psionic path isn't for the faint-hearted."

Lawson stood up the inclined slope with her arms folded over her chest. Her field bore down on them as her signature ascended from the depths of subspace. Will felt a steady pulse as Lawson's field washed over him, like the tide crashing on the beach, and bit by bit, it washed away his resistance, and his field faltered. He gritted his teeth and took a step forward and then another. The pressure ratcheted up with each step as he pushed on.

Will felt his bones rattle. He tried to bring his arms up to clap, but he found that if he gathered his psions in his hands, he left the rest of his body vulnerable. If he was going to clash his field together, it would have to be quick before Lawson's signature could burrow into him.

Indecision gripped him as he raised his arms. Would he be fast enough? He had to guess the correct amount of power he should use, and judging by how much he had used last time, he needed to tap into a lot more of his reserves to make a dent in Lawson's field.

Will took another step forward, and finally reached the start of the slope. He tried to take another step forward, but it was like being hit by a wall. The pressure was so intense that it felt tangible. Before his foot could land on the ramp, Will was thrown back and crashed into several cadets standing behind him. They all came down in a tumbling heap.

Will groaned and raised his head, seeing more cadets attempting to reach the ramp but being tossed aside just like he was. Several more attempts were made, but none succeeded. Will saw Lawson frown down at them, and her field retracted. He gave a sigh of relief as the pressure lessened.

"Cadets, halt!" said Lawson. "Take a knee and catch your breath."

The class slumped over at her signal, gasping for air. A few were panting heavily, on all fours with their hands buried in the snow.

"Breathe in deep through your nose and exhale through your mouth," said Lawson. "Focus on your breath. Aim for a steady rhythm."

Will tried to ignore his itching knee as he felt his heart rate slow down. He was still shaking, but the worst effects of the signature suppression were gone.

"Good," said Lawson as she scanned the class. "Now, before we begin again, let's clarify some things first. The two fields striking each other don't have to be yours alone. Now, what do I mean by that?"

Lawson looked around at the gathered cadets and pointed at Becca, who blinked but promptly answered, "If two opponents exchange blows, then there is a chance to create signature collapse."

"A good guess," said Lawson, "but you are forgetting the environment itself has a field. You could clash against it."

Lawson's field sprang up again, and this time it raced towards her feet and slammed against the platform. Snow was sent flying, and a pulse raced through the ground. Will felt it strike against his field before it dissipated.

"The environment has a signature associated with it. You will feel it most keenly in specific places like the Hallucia Mountains or the exclusionary zone. If you clash against it, you can recreate subspace collapse, though your field would have to be a lot more focused."

"And not just the ground," continued Lawson. "The air itself can be struck to create a collapse."

She moved into a front stance, with her forward leg slightly bent. Will watched, his breathing elevated. His heart thumped in his chest as he followed Lawson's movements. The shard in his leg trembled, and Will saw someone else in Lawson's place. Before he could protest, the world vibrated, and he was pulled into a vision. Time froze.

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"Annie! Annie! Can you teach me too?!" asked little Will.

Anya wiped the sweat from her brow, still in her forward stance. She had her forward leg bent and her right arm close to her hip, ready to punch out.

"It's a little too soon for you, kiddo," said Anya.

"Please! I want to learn to beat rift beasts too. I'll even know the chant and everything!" Will balled his tiny hands together.

"Alright," Anya sighed. "Do you remember the evil banishment chant?"

Will nodded vigorously. "I do! But why are we chanting hymns when we are fighting rift beasts?"

Anya considered for a moment. "When we fight, force of will and emotions matter."

"What do you mean?" asked Will. "I don't understand."

"Don't worry, munchkin. One day you will," said Anya. "So, you wanted to punch, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay," Anya slipped back into her stance, and Will did the same beside her.

"Now follow my movements and chant with me," said Anya.

Anya balled her right hand into a fist and brought it to her hip. Will mirrored his older sister's movements as best he could, with a determined look on his face. Together, they chanted as they stored power in their fists.

"In darkest night, defend us in battle,

Be our shield 'gainst wickedness' rattle."

Will held his little hands in the ready position, his arm bent with his fist clenched tight.

"Goddess rebuke them, we meekly pray,

Heavenly host, lead evil away."

Anya slowly rotated her hips and shoulders forward. Will followed her lead, still chanting.

"In brightest day, let our spirits ignite,

No evil shall escape our sight."

She brought her fist forward along with Will, their chants still echoing in the training hall.

"We shan't falter, we shan't yield,

For we are the world's chosen shield!"

Together, they punched out. There was a loud crack, and Will was pulled out of the vision.

The world snapped back into reality, and time unfroze. Will found himself staring at Lawson, whose fist moved in a blur. The air snapped, and a strong pulse blasted out from her fist.

It washed over them, and their fields vibrated with the impact. Will clenched his right knee, breathing heavily. The vision came out of nowhere, and he could barely resist. He glanced at Remy and Becca beside him, but they were too winded to speak.

"Alright, on your feet," said Lawson. "We will try this again."

Will pushed himself off the ground and stood. His legs still shook with the aftermath of the vision, but he focused on the ramp in front of him. Lawson's field bore down on them again, and Will felt the pressure of her signature. He took a step forward, and the feeling intensified.

It was the same problem as last time. The moment he concentrated his field on one part of his body, he left the rest vulnerable. If he wanted to send out a pulse, he had to spend a significant part of his reserves, which was a gamble he didn't want to take. Plus, it was hard moving and throwing a punch at the same time.

Considering for a bit, Will took a page out of Lawson's playbook. He sent his psions racing towards his feet. The snow under his feet was sent flying as a pulse crashed into the ground, but it didn't just do that; it propelled his feet forwards. Using the momentum, Will pushed himself forward to take another step.

Remy and Becca kept up with him, but they weren't alone. The other cadets pushed themselves forward, and ahead of the pack was Valerie Maxwell, along with a few other Shieldhorns. They had made it to the ramp and were steadily making their way upwards. Sweat dripped from their foreheads, but they pressed on.

Lawson stood impassively, watching their progress, but Cline the Trapper stirred from his position. He descended down the slope and began speaking to each Shieldhorn in a low whisper.

Lawson nodded. "Good work, Valerie. A little bit more, and you will be at the top." She scanned the rest of the cadets. "I see only Shieldhorns up here. Come on, are the rest of you sleeping?"

The call spurred several students from other schools to climb a little faster. They forced their way up the slope with determined steps. Will followed them and took his first step onto the ramp. The pressure upon him doubled, and he was left grinding his teeth. Another pulse came from his foot but did little to wash away the signature pressure. Remy huffed angrily on his right, and Becca was close behind to his left. Together they took another step forward and began climbing the ramp.

Will kept his eyes fixed ahead. His knee itched, and his vision was blurry. He sent his field crashing against the ground once again, and a faint pulse came from it. Through half-closed eyelids, he saw Cline finish his talk with the cadets ahead and descend the ramp. Despite his short stature, clad in his ivory CAD suit, Will saw an icy boulder making its way down a mountain. A few steps later, Cline was in front of them with his arms folded behind his back as he watched them struggle up the ramp.

Will panted as he took another step forward. Cline stood there watching, his helmet and his still posture making his motives unreadable. It was a long while before he spoke.

"So, you three are Damian's pet project," Cline's speech was clear and precise, like you could measure it with a ruler. Will frowned at the modulated voice that came from the CAD suit. The audio was distorted by the suit, but he found it oddly familiar in tone and intonation, like a recently forgotten song whose beat you remember but not the name.

"Why don't we have a little chat," said Cline, his tone now like grating metal and tempered steel.