The exam had a rhythm at the start.
Nyxes appeared from buildings or from behind corners, candidates fought, points climbed. The scoreboard flickered quickly - fast, simple, hungry. Kill, move, eliminate some more Nyxes again.
Now the rhythm was different.
The scoreboard still moved, but the candidates didn't move with it. They lingered. They cut across lanes. They stopped chasing Nyxes and started tracking names higher up the list. When someone high on the board flashed past a corridor, heads turned like magnets snapping toward iron.
Nobody said it out loud, but the rule had formed anyway.
Take down someone and everyone moves up one slot.
Somewhere above, the host tried to keep the carnival alive.
"Alright, folks, I'm seeing some… Competitive spirit out there! Remember, this is a Nyx combat exam, not a playground brawl! Keep it classy!"
The joke died in his own mouth, swallowed by the sound that rolled through the arena a second later.
Metal on metal.
