The reflection hit the pad before I did.
It made a soft wooden click, then waited with its practice blade raised in the same awkward left-handed guard I was using.
"That's offensive," I said.
Liora looked from me to the pale figure behind the glass. "The stance or the timing?"
"Both."
The briefing room held a small reflection device used to teach response patterns. Its striking surface stopped inside a padded frame. No live edge, no ability to reach beyond the marked lane. The instructor had spent longer explaining those limits than the device needed to embarrass its first volunteer.
I had volunteered after seeing the first two students fail in exactly the same way.
That should have warned me about my reasons.
I had watched the same click stop two people and decided the explanation made the answer obvious. All I needed to do was avoid the mistake I had just seen.
