Cut Your T's and Stab Your I's [Lukas/Stella]

THE CITY OF LIGHTS
Lukas nodded at the girl, swinging his finger to another student. "You."

The stories continued, addressing those who had admitted to killing a hollow one after another. Some in more detail than others, only a scant amount of them laden with detail. Regardless of what they said, Lukas nodded each time, and moved to the next. As they finished the last, he turned, stepping away from them with hand in pocket.

"For some of you, we'll add trauma counseling to your regimen. The details, fixations on your encounters - it's natural to remember things when you come face to face with death, but you will-" Lukas turned back, a cold glare at the recruits. "-need to come face to face with dozens, hundreds of hollows. You can not let them weigh on your mind. Aiming for the masks? Good. Remembering the tells of a hidden weakspot? Good. But those moments of freezing up, terror, you will do no good to me, or the Vandenreich, dead."

Lukas didn't expect much reaction as he spoke, cracking his neck. "Those of you still holding onto these kind of memories, and those who haven't killed, you're dismissed. The rest of you, draw your spirit weapons - we're almost done for today, but there's one last thing."

A shuffle of feet as half of them left, leaving Stella and a few of her peers. A few turned heads from those exiting, Lukas taking note of those that looked back, and those that didn't. As the door closed, silver turned back to gaze on the students, gesturing with his hand. "Go on."

THE CITY OF LIGHTS
A myriad of bows, a pair of swords, an axe, a shield - that one surprised him, but set his expectations higher. With the students taking to manifest their weapons, so did Lukas. Ahenngeist shimmered in the air, listlessly pointed to the ground. Stepping to the first of them, the quincy locked eyes. A flash of movement and the student flinched, the form of their bow scattering into thin air. Lukas rested his sword across shoulders, a twist of his brow, deciding what to say. "Third."

To the next he moved, repeating the process. Not so much a flinch, leaving a blade bent over itself. A small light in Lukas' eyes, unnoticeable by all but the attentive. "Second." And so he continued down the line; Third, Third, a First, spoken with an emotion close to pride. Another Third, and he'd approach the farmgirl, silver peering through her.

A flash of light, blurring blue against the air. Ahnengeist came swinging to the side of her axe, the man focused on her every reaction.