Timothy stepped onto the stage, boots thudding against the wooden platform as the stadium lights washed over him. The cheers rolled like thunder, loud and proud, but his attention narrowed only to his team clustered at the side. He moved toward them with practiced confidence , shoulders back, chin slightly raised , yet made it painfully obvious that he was not looking at Ryven. Not once. Not even by accident.
The presenter's voice boomed across the arena.
"And here are the remaining survivors, ladies and gentlemen! Let us give them a round of applause!"
The crowd erupted again, a sea of flashing lights and waving hands. Timothy let the sound soak into him like warm sunlight. This was what he lived for , recognition, validation, the illusion of dominance. His gaze slid sideways until it landed on Hunter.
A slow grin stretched across his face.
