The room was dim.
Only the red glow of the holographic scoreboard lit the faces of six people sitting around a circular table.
Each face carried weight, the kind of presence that whispered of power, influence, and danger.
On the hologram, the final score flickered:
GODS — 92 | RAPTORS — 50
And beside it, another tab blinked softly:
VORPAL BASKET – STANDBY
UPCOMING MATCH: TBD
Jerry adjusted his thin-rimmed glasses, his grin slicing through the dimness like a knife.
"As expected… the Gods still win."
His voice was smooth, sharp, too pleased with the outcome.
Beside him, Ron, dressed in a gray blazer, crossed his arms. Calm, dangerous, unreadable.
"Efficiency. No wasted motion. They didn't even need to use full capability."
He spoke like a man describing a well-built weapon not a team.
Drew, with his maroon suit and unsteady smirk, slammed his fist lightly on the table.
