I

Elias came out of the tunnel fast.

Not running. Close to it. His hand was already moving across his jacket , left side, right side, inner pocket, outer pocket, cycling through the same search with the urgency of someone who already knew the answer and kept checking anyway.

Arthur watched him from across the floor.

Elias’s hand went to the inner left pocket again. Stayed there longer this time. Then dropped.

His jaw tightened.

He looked up and his eyes moved across the coliseum in a fast sweep. Not landing on anything on anything . The look of someone trying to figure out when it happened and where.

Arthur put his hand inside his own jacket.

His fingers found the vial.

He gripped it.

It popped.

Small. Immediate. The glass gave under the pressure and the liquid soaked into his palm and through to the jacket lining. Cold first. Then just wet.

He pulled his hand out.

Elias’s eyes swept across the floor and kept moving. Past Arthur. Past the Misfits. Still searching.

Arthur exhaled once through his nose.

Done.

Kreasial appeared at his left. She’d been watching the tunnel entrance. "Who’s that guy and why does he look like he lost his wallet."

"Hmm maybe he did lose his wallet. Don’t worry about it." Arthur gestured

She looked at him sideways. "You’re doing the face."

"I don’t have a face."

"You have multiple faces. That one specifically means you did something." She looked at Elias across the floor. Then back at Arthur. "What did you do."

"Nothing for real. And if I did. It’s something thaf wont affect you." Arthur looked at her

"If it affects the format it affects me."

"It won’t affect the format."

Theodore arrived from the right. He’d been watching the board reset. "The results from the first category are still displayed. Class D and E observers are still in the stands." He looked at Arthur. "It feels weird that we are still up."

Arthur tilted his head. "How? We worked hard for it."

"No.. it’s just I didn’t expect this."

Arthur walked towards Theodore. He patted his shoulder. "You did well so don’t worry too much!"

Theodore looked at his eyes. And smiled. "Thankyou vex!"

Arthur smiled back.

"THE SECOND CATEGORY."

"IS ROYALE!"

The announcer’s voice cracked across the coliseum and the crowd went quiet faster than anything had made them quiet all morning.

"ALL FOUR REMAINING TRIADS WILL COMPETE SIMULTANEOUSLY ON THE COLISEUM FLOOR."

Kreasial straightened immediately. Both hands loose at her sides.

"THERE ARE NO ZONES. NO BOUNDARIES. NO DESIGNATED OPPONENTS. EVERY TRIAD IS A VALID TARGET FROM THE MOMENT THE CATEGORY BEGINS."

"Oh I like this," Kreasial said.

"You would," Theodore said.

"What’s wrong with it."

"Twelve people. No rules. One floor."

"Exactly." She cracked her neck. "Finally something interesting."

Theodore wrote something in his notes. Arthur caught a glimpse, just a small diagram of the floor with four position markers sketched in rough circles.

"THE OBJECTIVE IS SIMPLE. BE STANDING WHEN THE OTHERS ARE NOT. A TRIAD IS ELIMINATED WHEN ALL THREE MEMBERS ARE INCAPACITATED OR FORFEIT. THE LAST TWO TRIADS STANDING ADVANCE TO THE THIRD AND FINAL CATEGORY."

Two advance. Two go home.

Arthur ran it. Four triads. Class A, B, C, and the Misfits. One of those four was going home without advancing. His eyes moved without him deciding to move them. Across the floor. To the far end.

Xavier hadn’t shifted his position since he walked back in.

"FATAL HARM REMAINS NON-PROHIBITED. MAGIC IS FULLY PERMITTED. THERE IS NO TIME LIMIT. AND INTERFERANCE OR USE OF RESPECTED BELLUS IS NOT ALLOWED AND MAY RESULT TO AUTOMATIC DISQUALIFICATION."

The crowd made a sound. Not cheering. Something more specific than cheering. The sound of people recalibrating what they were about to watch.

"THIS CATEGORY ENDS WHEN IT ENDS."

Theodore’s pen stopped.

"No time limit," he said quietly.

"No time limit," Arthur confirmed.

"That’s not normal."

"No."

Theodore looked at the floor. The diagram in his notes. Then he added something to it and capped the pen. "Class B and Class C are going to go for each other first. The angle they’re holding right now, they’ve already decided. That gives us a window on the left side if we move immediately when the signal hits."

"How long does that window last," Arthur said.

"Thirty seconds. Maybe less if Class A moves early."

"Class A won’t move early," Kreasial said.

Both of them looked at her.

She shrugged. "Look at them. They’re waiting for everyone else to tire out. That’s always how the top class plays it." She looked at Theodore. "Your diagram thing. What does it say about that."

Theodore turned the notepad slightly so she could see it. She looked at it for two seconds.

"Yeah," she said. "Okay. So we go left."

"The problem is that if we go left. The probably of us meeting Class C is high." Arthur gestured. And looked at Theodore. "Class B would also most likely to target Class A."

"You’re scared at class C?" Kreasial grinned

Arthur’s eyebrows raised.

Trust me. You don’t want to face Alfia.

"No it’s just I don’t want to be squished or sandwich during the royale."

"So what your plan Vex?" Theodore tilted his head.

"We attack first." Arthur grinned. "Trust me on this one."

"Oooh.. I kinda like this." Kreasial grinned back." Who do we hit first?"

"Class A"

"TRIADS. TAKE YOUR POSITIONS."

Nobody moved toward a designated spot. There were no designated spots. The four groups looked at each other and the distances between them became very relevant very fast.

Class A didn’t adjust at all. Xavier stood exactly where he’d been standing. Calver and Auros fanned out to either side without being told. No urgency. No adjustment. Like they’d already run every number and found the answer acceptable.

Class B spread wide immediately. Three different angles, lots of ground covered.

Class C pulled tight. Defensive formation. Shields up before anything had been thrown.

Arthur dropped his field low.

Slow. Careful. Shadow anchors threading out across the floor, through the dark at the base of the walls, along the lines where the overhead stands cut the light. The coliseum fed back in pieces. Weight. Position. Twelve sets of feet on stone.

He mapped them without moving his eyes.

Class B — spread wide, left side. One signature lighter than the other two.

Class C — tight cluster, right side. Too close together.

Class A — far end. Two loose and ready. One completely still.

Xavier.

Alfia

Elias

His field registered differently from everyone else’s. Not larger. Just different. Like pressing a shadow anchor into something that had no gaps in it anywhere.

Arthur pulled back before he spent more than he needed to.

’You’re nervous,’ Vexis said.

I’m calculating.

’Same thing right now.’

Arthur said nothing.

He looked at Xavier.

Xavier was already looking at him.

Blue eyes. Sitting across forty meters of open floor with the weight of someone who had finished deciding and was now simply waiting for the moment to act on it. He’d attacked Arthur in a corridor twenty minutes ago. He had a theory that was wrong but aimed in a dangerous direction. He was standing in a format with no rules and no time limit.

Arthur had read hundreds of his Chapters. Knew the patterns. Knew that when Xavier decided something he followed it without deviation.

He looked away first.

I’m really screwed.

The format he could handle. The floor was covered in shadows. Natural dark pooling under every bench and wall and corner at this angle of light. The coliseum was his best terrain since the island. On paper he had every advantage.

On paper.

Roz moved from one shoulder to the other and settled. He said nothing. He just looked at the floor with those red eyes and fixed his bow tie and looked like something that had watched six centuries of moments exactly like this one and had run out of things to say about them.

’Whatever happens,’ Vexis said quietly. ’Don’t lose.’

Arthur looked at his triad.

Kreasial. Both hands loose. Already shifted onto the balls of her feet without realizing she’d done it. Ready before the signal the way she was always ready before the signal.

Theodore. Pen capped. Notes away. Eyes moving in quick short arcs. His bellus pressed flat against his collar with her ears forward and her nose working.

The whole floor waiting.

Elias stood with his triad on the right side. His face was flat. His hand was still. Whatever he’d felt when his pocket came up empty had gone somewhere internal and locked there.

He wasn’t looking at Arthur.

Arthur wasn’t looking at him.

The announcer came back one final time.

"TRIADS."

The crowd went silent. All of it. Every seat.

Arthur’s field settled low across the floor. Every anchor live. Every shadow his. Twelve people standing in them and the whole floor mapped and waiting.

"BEGIN."

Kreasial launched first.

Ice spikes already forming under her palms, tight and sharp, she moved before the echo of the announcer’s voice finished bouncing off the walls. No wind-up. No announcement. Just gone.

Arthur raised his hand.

Index finger up. Water gathered at the tip — small, dense, spinning once before it locked.

"OH." The announcer’s voice cracked across the whole coliseum. "THE MISFITS ARE MOVING FIRST. AND THEY’RE NOT GOING FOR THE OBVIOUS TARGET — THEY’RE HEADING STRAIGHT FOR CLASS A."

The crowd reacted.