The arena grew tense.
Dust floated through the air as Jelo and Raken stood facing each other, the silence between them heavier now than it had been at the start. The crowd had gone quieter too — no longer the loose, excited murmur of students watching a sparring match, but the held-breath stillness of people watching something they weren't sure how to name yet.
Raken slowly cracked his neck, one side and then the other. The sound carried.
"You've done well so far," he said. His voice was unhurried, almost conversational, like he was commenting on someone's form in a training drill. "But you haven't seen my real power yet."
Atlas leaned forward from the sidelines, his arms braced against the barrier rail.
"Here it comes…"
