The school ground buzzed with electricity.
The air was heavy, not with heat but with anticipation.
Twenty candidates stood lined up in front of the grand stage, their faces serious, breaths steadying, hearts hammering wildly inside their chests. A giant banner floated high above:
"Stage 3: Final Showdown - Shaurya Gauntlet"
Principal Sharma, flanked by a group of stern-looking teachers, stepped forward. His voice echoed sharply through the stadium speakers.
"Congratulations to the twenty warriors who have made it this far," he began, his tone carrying both pride and warning.
"But now begins the real test the final battle to determine the true Shaurya of this tournament."
The candidates straightened, alert.
"Stage Three will not have rounds," the Principal announced firmly.
"You will face a continuous gauntlet a series of brutal challenges, one after the other, without rest, without mercy."
He raised a hand, signaling the giant screen behind him to flash each task visually:
Obstacle Run: Hurdles, zig-zag poles, balance beams.
Rope Climb: Scaling a towering ten-meter rope.
Strength Task: Tire flips, weight carrying.
Precision Task: Throwing at distant, moving targets.
Puzzle Lock Break: Crack a coded lock under pressure.
Final Sprint: A desperate, all-out dash to the finish line.
The screen flickered, showing glimpses of each setup laid out across the field monstrous, intimidating.
Principal Sharma continued, his voice lowering into a serious growl:
"There will be no second chances. This race will be brutal. Some will fall behind, some may even fail to finish. Only those with true Shaurya courage, strength, and mind will reach the end."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink deep into every heart.
"You will all start together, shoulder to shoulder. Your final positions and timing will determine your ranks. The best among you will be crowned the champions of this year."
The crowd roared. The candidates exchanged tense glances.
Principal Sharma finally said:
"You have five minutes. Prepare yourselves."
A long whistle blew the signal for a short preparation break.
The Break Before the Storm
Rivet wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts, breathing deep.
Beside him, Keshav stretched casually, flashing a quick smirk.
"Nervous?" Keshav teased, tapping Rivet's shoulder.
Rivet shook his head, though his chest felt like it was made of iron.
"Focused," he replied simply.
Just as Rivet closed his eyes, mentally visualizing the race ahead a low voice interrupted him.
"Tch tch... Look at you, acting all serious. As if you stand a chance," sneered Veer.
Rivet opened his eyes to find Veer standing a few steps away, arms crossed, smirk plastered on his face.
His words dripped with poison.
"You barely scraped through Stage 2, Rivet," Veer said, voice loud enough for a few nearby candidates to hear.
"You really think you belong here? This gauntlet isn't for weaklings who dream too much."
The words hit Rivet like cold water.
A few candidates chuckled nervously, not wanting to get involved.
Rivet clenched his fists but stayed silent, his jaw tightening.
Veer stepped closer, voice dropping to a venomous whisper.
"You'll crumble midway. You'll break... and everyone will watch you fail."
For a second, Rivet's mind wavered an image of him slipping, failing in front of everyone flashed.
Rivet looked Veer in the eyes steady, unflinching and said nothing.
Silence spoke louder than any insult.
Veer clicked his tongue in irritation and turned away.
Keshav, who had watched everything quietly, clapped Rivet's back lightly.
"Good," he said simply. "Don't waste energy on barking dogs."
The Beginning of the Final Showdown
A loud horn blared across the ground, snapping everyone into formation.
All twenty candidates walked to the starting line a thick white strip of chalk marking the beginning of the Shaurya Gauntlet.
Their numbers were pinned boldly on their chests.
The ground ahead stretched wide, obstacles looming like titans waiting to be conquered.
Referees walked by, giving final instructions.
Principal Sharma stood on the elevated platform, raising a red flag high.
The crowd held its breath.
Rivet crouched slightly, muscles coiled like a spring.
Keshav to his right, grinning, murmured:
"Let's show them."
Veer to the left, sneering, muttered:
"Let's crush them."
And then
"BANG!"
(The flag dropped. The race began.)