Page 4 of Witch's Promise

"Gotcha," Lucas crowed triumphantly.

Gabe straightened up, breathing hard but grinning. They'd done it. It hadn't been pretty, and in a real situation, it would have been risky as hell. But they'd neutralized the threat and minimized collateral damage.

The holographic mall flickered and disappeared, leaving them standing in the bare training room once more. Alex strode towards them, his expression unreadable.

"Well," he said after a moment, "that was certainly creative."

Gabe and Lucas exchanged nervous glances. Coming from Alex, that could mean anything.

"The good news is, you achieved your primary objective," Alex continued. "You neutralized the threats and kept civilian casualties to a minimum. Your teamwork was solid, and you showed good adaptability in a high-pressure situation."

Gabe felt a flutter of pride in his chest. But he knew better than to relax just yet. There was always a "but" with Alex.

"However," Alex said, right on cue, "that final move was incredibly risky. In a real combat situation, you might not have had the luxury of such a wide margin for error. And Gabe, you let yourself get cornered early on. In the field, that kind of mistake could be fatal."

And there it was. The pride in Gabe's chest deflated, replaced by a familiar knot of anxiety. He'd screwed up. Again. No matter how hard he trained, how much he pushed himself, it never seemed to be enough.

"We'll work on it, boss," Gabe said, trying to keep the dejection out of his voice.

Alex's expression softened slightly. "Hey, I'm not saying it was all bad. You two work well together, and that counts for a lot. Just remember, out there, the stakes are real. We can't afford to take unnecessary risks."

Gabe nodded, the weight of Alex's words settling heavily on his shoulders. It was a reminder he didn't really need—the responsibility of their job, the lives that depended on them, it was something Gabe carried with him always. Sometimes, it felt like it might crush him.

"Alright, hit the showers," Alex said. "We'll debrief fully tomorrow. Good work today, everyone."

As the team started to disperse, Gabe felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Lucas watching him with concern.

"Hey," Lucas said softly. "You okay? You've got that look."

Gabe tried to smile, but it felt forced. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, you know?"

Lucas didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. Instead, he squeezed Gabe's shoulder gently. "Well, come on then. Nothing a hot shower can't fix, right?"

Gabe nodded, grateful for his friend's understanding. Together, they made their way to the locker room, the rest of the team already filing in ahead of them.

The locker room was filled with steam and the sound of running water as Gabe made his way to his locker. He grabbed his towel, trying to ignore the way his muscles protested every movement. Around him, the banter and laughter of his teammates echoed off the tiled walls.

"Yo, Gabe!" Eryx called out from one of the shower stalls. "Nice moves out there. Though I gotta say, your hair game is seriously suffering. Ever heard of conditioner?"

Gabe snorted, running a hand through his admittedly unruly hair. "Some of us can't all be blessed with Apollo's perfect locks, pretty boy."

"Excuses, excuses," Eryx shot back, grinning.

"Leave him alone, Eryx," Marcus chimed in. "Not everyone can spend three hours on their hair every morning."

"It does not take me three hours!"

"You're right," Alex deadpanned from his spot by the sinks. "It's more like four."

The locker room erupted in laughter, and Gabe found himself grinning despite his earlier mood. This was what he loved about the team—no matter how intense things got, no matter how much pressure they were under, they could always find moments like this. Moments of lightness, of camaraderie.

As the others continued to rib each other, Gabe stepped into an empty shower stall. He turned the water on as hot as he could stand it, letting out a small groan of relief as the spray hit his sore muscles.

He stood there for a long moment, letting the water wash away the sweat and tension of the training session. But as the physical discomfort faded, the weight of his thoughts settled back in.

Had he really improved at all? Or was he just fooling himself, playing at being a hero when he was really just a liability waiting to happen? What if, when it really counted, he wasn't enough?

Gabe shook his head, trying to dislodge the spiraling thoughts. He couldn't afford to think like that. People were counting on him. The team was counting on him. He had to be better, had to push harder.

---