Ashton stood in the simulation room, his muscles tense and his sword ready. He had been training for days, honing his skills against the simulated Xyran grunts, and he was determined to defeat them finally.
Flintmace and Vulcan watched as he donned his gear and entered the simulation. The room flickered and shimmered, transforming into a battlefield on a distant planet. The Xyran grunts materialised before him, their sharp claws and gleaming teeth bared.
Flintmace and Vulcan looked on, their expressions unreadable. They had watched Ashton struggle and fail time and time again, and they were starting to wonder if he would ever succeed.
But Ashton was determined not to let them down. He took a deep breath, steadied his nerves, and charged forward.
The grunts were waiting for him, their weapons raised and their faces twisted in snarls of rage. Ashton weaved and dodged, his sword flashing through the air as he tried to find an opening.