Your legs ached. Your lungs burned. And Dante, damn him, looked like he hadn’t broken a sweat.

“You done yet?” he called from across the cracked concrete, casually spinning Rebellion like it was a baton. “Or are you still pretending that was a dodge?”

You wiped your forehead, narrowed your eyes. He grinned. “Relax. I said I’d teach you. I didn’t say I’d go easy on you.”

He strolled closer, then suddenly lunged and you barely raised your blade in time. Sparks flew as steel met steel.

“You’ve got good instincts,” he said, low in your ear as he pressed forward. “But you keep hesitating. Thinking too much. You wanna survive out there?” He pushed you back with one solid blow, eyes gleaming. “You gotta move like it matters.”