The surviving candidates gathered once more in the meeting hall atop the skyscraper, the same chamber where they'd heard Godfrey's grim briefing the day before.
Their numbers had thinned. Where twenty had once filled the round table, only fifteen remained. Five candidates, confronted with the reality of the Wasteland and the uncertainty of the final stage, had chosen to withdraw the previous day, taking their first-stage rewards and their lives rather than gambling both on Sinai.
No one blamed them. The remaining fifteen were simply the ones willing to risk everything for the Sacred-Rank Spirit Art and the opportunity.
If they didn't risk it, who would?
They were among the strongest, the most ambitious, and the most reckless of the generation.
Moon sat among them, calm and composed, taking stock of the competitors he'd soon be fighting alongside and against.
