Have you ever done something so selfish… so heartless?
And if you have—did you ever stop to wonder what pushed you that far?
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THIRD PERSON'S POV
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The long-awaited day had finally arrived.
The stadium pulsed with life—voices overlapping, laughter echoing, anticipation thick in the air. People of all ages filled the massive structure, their attention fixed on the battlefield below.
Built like an ancient Roman arena, the stadium towered in layers. Massive holographic screens hovered above, ensuring no one missed a single moment.
A reinforced glass barrier separated the audience from the stage.
Security lined every entrance—silent, watchful.
Beyond the arena stood another building.
The Wait-Out.
Where fighters waited and tension was built.
George's team stood together, dressed in their red-accented uniforms.
No one mentioned what happened earlier.
No one needed to.
Short replies. Avoided glances. A silence that lingered just a little too long.
Ivy looked down at her outfit again and sighed.
Nathan noticed.
"It's symbolic," he said lightly. "Cultural roots."
"They could've used posters."
"You wanted something flashy?" Zoé cut in.
"This isn't Country A."
Ivy smiled faintly.
"Your culture feels like a kids' show."
Zoé rolled her eyes.
Renzo exhaled, slipping his vape back into his pocket.
"I hate it too," he muttered. "Anyway—motivational speech: don't lose, or I break your arms."
"Wow," Lily said flatly. "So inspiring."
"Scared already?"
They turned.
A girl stood behind them, blue-accented uniform crisp against her frame. Blonde hair fell to her waist, catching the light. Her gaze was warm—but steady.
George grinned.
"Hey, buttercup."
She rolled her eyes and gave Renzo a brief bow before stepping closer.
Donald draped an arm over her shoulders.
"So you do remember us."
"I didn't want to interrupt your hero phase."
"How thoughtful," Fiona said dryly.
Sarah smiled—then her gaze shifted.
To Ivy.
"New member?" Sarah asked.
George nodded.
"Ivy Da Vinci. Ivy—Sarah."
Ivy didn't respond immediately.
Albert nudged her.
She blinked, then looked back at Sarah—smiling faintly.
"Nice to meet you… princess."
A flicker crossed Sarah's face.
"Princess?" she repeated.
"You're pretty enough. A princess."
Flat. Casual. Dismissive.
Then Ivy looked away.
Conversation over.
Donald let out a short laugh, breaking the tension.
The announcer's voice echoed through the stadium as the matches began.
Teams clashed. Fell. Disappeared.
Back in the Wait-Out, screens flickered with battle after battle.
Sarah's group dominated theirs in minutes.
Albert whistled softly.
"They've improved."
"So have we," The announcer began.
Then—
"Group 5 versus Group 11."
Silence.
Donald grinned.
"Showtime."
The moment they stepped into the arena—
The crowd exploded.
Nathan glanced at Ivy.
She didn't react.
Just stood there—
Watching.
Waiting.
The countdown began.