In the colosseum, every seat was filled, yet the place carried a strange silence that didn't match the crowd. No chatter, no movement worth noting. Just attention. Heavy, focused attention.
All eyes were locked on a particular holographic display.
It hovered above the arena floor, large and clear, but it wasn't the only one. Smaller projections spread across different sections, making sure no one missed what was happening. The entire place had become a viewing ground, like a live broadcast playing out in real time.
From time to time, a small flash of light would appear on the arena floor.
Each time it did, a figure followed.
A participant, thrown out of the tournament.
Some landed hard, others barely standing, their bodies marked with injuries, their expressions still caught between shock and pain. Medical teams moved quickly each time, dragging them away before the next flash came.
Yet, despite this, most clans remained calm.
They watched.
They calculated.
They waited.
The display itself was something else entirely.
At first glance, it looked simple, just a wide map, stretched out like a game interface. A full view of the dimension. Dots scattered across it, moving constantly, each one tagged with names, clan symbols, identifiers.
But that was only the surface.
The moment focus shifted onto any part of the map, the display responded.
It zoomed in.
The terrain sharpened. Shapes turned into real structures. Snowfields, forests, broken lands, all forming clearly. Then it went deeper.
Until it wasn't a map anymore.
It became a scene.
A full view of the participant.
Every movement. Every strike. Every reaction.
The swing of a claw, the burst of qi, the strain in a fighter's face, the fear, the anger, the hesitation. Nothing was hidden. It all played out clearly, like watching a film, except this one had no script and no guarantee of survival.
In the VIP section, the Wyndhams sat together, their attention fixed on the projection in front of them.
They weren't watching everything.
They were watching their own.
"So far, we haven't lost a single member," Lucius said, his voice low, measured, his eyes not leaving the display.
John stood beside him, arms crossed, his gaze moving from one point of the projection to another.
"But it's not looking good for all of them," he replied, his tone heavier, more grounded in what he was seeing.
The map didn't lie.
And neither did the fights playing out across it.
They had been focusing on just one group the whole time, leaving the rest of their participants across the three tournament zones unattended.
"It's hard to keep an eye on everyone in this tournament," Jake said, his eyes still on the shifting display.
A second passed, then he spoke again, more direct.
"We should divide it."
No one argued. It was the obvious move.
On the table in front of them, the same holographic display hovered, steady and clear. But it wasn't fixed. Each of them could shift their view at will. One could zoom into a fight, another could track movement across the map, while the others watched entirely different scenes. Same system. Different focus.
Lucius moved first.
"I'll keep an eye on Zephyr's group," he said.
John didn't hesitate.
"I'll take Henry."
Jake followed right after.
"Then I'll watch Gavalich's group."
That left one.
Jim.
He didn't speak immediately. His face tightened just a little, the kind of look you don't need words to explain. He didn't like what was left for him. Not one bit.
Still, he said nothing.
'I'll just keep an eye on Isla,' he thought.
A quiet decision. Simple. Clean.
Then another thought slipped in, sharper than the first.
'I doubt Alex would last long in a tournament like this.'
He didn't say it out loud, but the judgment was already made.
To him, it was obvious. When real trouble showed up, when things turned messy and dangerous, Alex would be the first to go. No resistance. No surprise.
That was how he saw it.
---
Meanwhile, the person in question was nowhere near as careless as Jim believed.
Alex moved through the battlefield with steady steps, his pace controlled, his eyes always scanning.
He hadn't rushed since the moment he entered the tournament.
Not once.
There were reasons for that.
More than one.
His gaze dropped slightly, just for a moment, landing on the wristband strapped to him.
'This thing…'
A short pause.
'What exactly can it see?'
The thought stayed.
He didn't understand it fully yet, and that alone was enough to make him cautious. He didn't trust something he couldn't read. Not in a place like this.
He and Isla had been paired together. It wasn't a choice either of them made. Isla clearly didn't like it. The tension was already there, sitting between them like something waiting to snap.
Alex, on the other hand, didn't care.
His focus was elsewhere.
'If they aren't doing anything to me yet… then they haven't noticed,' Alex thought.
He kept his eyes forward, scanning the area without turning his head too much.
'That's good… but it won't stay like that for long.'
A pause.
Another thought came in, slower, heavier.
'Should I use everything I have in this tournament?'
His grip tightened slightly.
'The axe… the astral body… high stage buster…'
He listed them in his head, one after the other.
Then he stopped himself.
'No… not yet.'
They hadn't moved from their starting position for a while. Isla stayed where he was, clearly waiting, maybe expecting Alex to say something or make a plan.
Alex didn't.
He simply stepped forward.
Then another step.
And just like that, he started walking toward the trees ahead.
No warning. No explanation.
"Hey… where do you think you're going?!" Isla called out the moment he noticed.
Alex didn't respond.
Didn't slow down.
Didn't even turn his head.
He just kept moving, pushing through the thick line of trees as if Isla's voice meant nothing.
That did it.
Isla's face twisted.
His jaw tightened.
"Dammit… who do you think you are, ignoring me?!" he growled.
He moved fast.
His feet dug into the ground as he dashed forward, closing the gap in seconds.
Soon, he was right behind Alex.
His hand shot out.
He grabbed Alex by the wrist.
"I am talking to you!" he snapped, tightening his grip, fingers pressing down hard.
For a brief second, it looked like Alex would just let it happen.
Then he moved.
A small motion.
Clean.
His wrist twisted.
A slight turn, a shift in angle.
In one smooth flick, Alex broke the grip and knocked Isla's hand aside like it wasn't even there.
No struggle. No force wasted.
Just timing.
Alex took a step forward, creating space between them.
Then he turned his head slightly, just enough to look at Isla from the corner of his eye.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.
For a moment, Isla just stood there, stunned.
His hand still hung slightly in the air from where it had been pushed aside.
'How did he do that?' Isla wondered.
It didn't make sense to him. The movement had been too clean, too easy. No struggle, no force. Just gone.
But the confusion didn't last long.
His face hardened again as he locked eyes with Alex.
"You piece of shit… how dare you ignore—"
"Quiet."
Alex's voice cut in.
Sharp. Low. Final.
At the same time, he raised his hand slightly, not in a threat, but enough to stop the words coming out of Isla's mouth.
Isla froze.
Not by force.
By something else.
For a split second, the tone in Alex's voice carried weight. Not loud, not aggressive, but firm in a way that pressed down without trying.
Authority.
It caught Isla off guard.
He didn't like it.
But before he could react again, he felt it.
A rumble.
Low.
Dull.
Steady.
It wasn't loud yet, but it was there, running through the ground beneath their feet.
Both of them went still.
The air changed.
The rumble continued, slow and consistent, like something heavy was moving at a distance.
The problem was simple.
They couldn't tell where it was coming from.
'Beasts are part of the challenge in this tournament,' Alex thought.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he listened.
The sound grew clearer.
Closer.
More defined.
But something about it felt… off.
'No… this isn't random movement,' he thought.
The rhythm didn't match a wild beast charging blindly.
It was controlled.
Measured.
Like steps.
Fast steps.
'This isn't a beast moving without thought… this feels like someone running,' Alex thought.
That realization settled in quickly.
Then the answer followed.
Only one name fit that kind of movement.
'There's only one thing that moves like this…'
A brief pause.
Then it clicked.
Suddenly, the footsteps stopped.
Just like that.
The rumble vanished, as if whatever had been moving had disappeared into thin air.
No sound. No movement.
Silence.
But Alex didn't relax.
If anything, his body tensed even more.
'No… that's worse,' he thought.
That kind of silence wasn't safety. It was the kind that came right before something struck.
"It's gone," Isla said, scanning around with a serious look.
Then his expression shifted, turning firm, almost commanding.
"I will be in charge until we meet the others, and you will listen to everything I say—"
He didn't finish.
Alex moved.
No warning.
No hesitation.
He dashed forward, closing the gap in an instant.
Isla's eyes widened.
"What—?!"
Too late.
Alex jumped.
His body lifted off the ground, and in mid-air, he pulled both legs forward, aiming straight at Isla's chest.
Impact.
Thud!
Both feet slammed into Isla at once.
The force was heavy, clean, direct.
Isla's body lifted off the ground and flew backward without control.
"what the heck—!" he shouted, his voice breaking as he was sent flying.
At the same time, Alex pushed off.
Using the impact as leverage, he kicked himself away, sending his own body flying in the opposite direction.
Distance.
Space.
Created in a single move.
Both of them were thrown apart.
Then—
Boom!
A massive figure crashed down right where they had been standing just a moment ago.
The ground shook.
Snow and dirt burst outward from the impact.
Alex hit the ground on his back.
Hard.
But he didn't stay down.
He rolled once and pushed himself up immediately, his eyes already locked forward.
Isla, further away, also scrambled up, his earlier anger gone, replaced with something sharper.
Focus.
Both of them looked at it.
The figure.
'An Anakim…' Isla's jaw tightened.
'Of all things… an Anakim found us.'
The being stood tall.
Too tall.
A giant in every sense of the word.
Its shape was human. No twisted limbs, no strange features. Just a massive human body, towering over them, wrapped in rough beast-skin clothing.
That alone made it worse.
It looked human.
But it wasn't something they could treat like one.
The Anakim slowly raised its hand.
Then pointed.
At Alex.
"You…"
Its voice was deep, heavy, carrying weight with every word.
"I finally found you…"
A step forward.
The ground pressed under its foot.
"You took that invitation from me."
The air shifted.
Pressure built.
"I am going to kill you!"
The roar followed immediately after, loud and full of intent, as the Anakim moved, ready to attack.