The vice president continued to stare with cold intensity, even as the medic team hauled his fallen opponent out of the arena.
The next challenger stepped forward—a girl, tall and slender, her orange hair tied back in a taut ponytail. Pale blue eyes sat beneath her lashes, delicate and uncertain, holding surprise, fear, and hesitation like trapped birds behind glass.
She ascended the stage quietly, rubbing the side of her hand and avoiding the vice president's gaze.
Shae narrowed his eyes for a moment, noting the subtle twitches in her expression. His auburn hair drifted in the breeze—now growing colder as the morning air transitioned toward noon.
She was still stalling. But the moment the examiner signaled the start of the match, something inside her snapped.
