The scoreboard never stopped moving.
Numbers climbed. Names traded places. Points flashed and refreshed like the system was trying to convince everyone this was still simple.
But the candidates weren't watching the Nyxew anymore.
They were watching each other.
At first, it was subtle - a pause in a sprint to glance up at a screen, a sudden turn away from a Shade because someone else was nearby, a candidate choosing a longer route just to cut across another lane. Then it got worse.
A fight would break out between a candidate and a cluster of Shades, and instead of helping, someone would wait in the doorway. Not to save them. To keep whatever was left – candidate or Nyx – for himself.
A high-scorer would flash across a corridor and three people would peel off their paths to follow, not even pretending it was about Nyxes anymore.
The rule wasn't spoken, but everyone understood it quickly.
If you take down someone ahead of you, everybody else climbs.
