When the first teams were called for the Bear Trap challenge, the arena lights shifted to deep orange and red, reflecting on the water surrounding the entire structure.
From the stands, the obstacle had looked impressive.
From the ground, it looked massive.
In the middle of the pool stood a large central platform, higher than the others, covered with cameras, cables, and metal rails where the production crew moved quickly, checking the last details.
From that central structure, dozens of chains extended outward, holding rows of suspended platforms above the water.
Thirty-five on one side.
Thirty-five on the other.
Seventy platforms total, aligned in two curved lines facing each other across the waves.
Each platform was small.
Very small.
Just enough space for one person to stand with their feet apart.
No room to walk.
No room to turn.
No room to sit.
Only balance.
Every platform, every bridge, every metal bar was covered with thick protective padding.
Dark foam wrapped around the edges.
Soft material covering the chains.
Rubber coating on the floor plates.
Nothing was left hard enough to seriously hurt someone.
Safety divers were already in the water.
Rescue boats waited near the sides.
Medical staff stood ready behind the barriers.
Helmets.
Life jackets.
Headsets.
Everything prepared.
A voice echoed through the arena.
"All fighters for Match One… move to the Bear Trap zone."
Players started walking toward the pool.
Not alliances.
Not leaders.
Only the selected teams.
Seven fighters.
Three reserves.
One team of ten.
Five teams per side.
Ten teams total.
This was not the whole alliance.
Only the chosen ones.
In the 1393 zone, the selected team gathered near the barrier.
Ghost stood with them, helmet in his hand, eyes fixed on the structure.
One of his teammates whistled.
"That thing is crazy."
Another laughed nervously.
"We just have to stand… right?"
"Stand while the ocean tries to kill you."
Someone looked at the platforms.
"They're tiny."
Ghost didn't answer.
He just kept looking at the central platform.
Then at the stage.
Then back at the platforms.
A staff member raised his hand.
"Equipment."
One by one, the fighters stepped forward.
Helmets placed on their heads.
Life jackets tightened.
Wireless headsets adjusted.
The technician spoke while checking the connection.
"You hear your team only."
Ghost nodded.
"Yeah."
Another staff member added.
"All structures are padded."
He knocked on the platform edge.
Soft.
"If you fall, stay in the water."
"Rescue team will come immediately."
One of the fighters muttered.
"Good."
They were guided toward the boats waiting near the edge.
Five teams climbed into the first boat.
Five others into the second.
No one talked much now.
Everyone was watching the structure.
The boat moved slowly across the water.
From here, the platforms looked even smaller.
Thirty-five on each side, hanging from chains, moving slightly with the water.
Above them, suspended bridges connected every platform to the central one.
Narrow.
Moving.
Unstable.
The voice came again.
"Fighters to the platforms."
"Reserves will use the suspended bridges."
The boat stopped near the first line.
Metal stairs were lowered.
One by one, the fighters climbed.
The platform moved under their weight.
Ghost stepped on his plate.
It shifted slightly.
Not much.
Enough to feel it.
Enough to know falling was possible.
He spread his feet instinctively.
Exactly the size of the plate.
Across the water, the opposite teams climbed onto their own platforms.
Thirty-five players facing thirty-five.
Seventy people suspended above the pool.
The reserves arrived on the second boat.
Above them, the suspended bridges lowered slowly, chains rattling as the system adjusted.
"Reserves to the bridges."
They climbed to the central platform first.
Then walked across the suspended bridges toward their teams, holding the ropes on each side.
The bridges moved with every step.
Below them, the water started to move stronger.
Once everyone was in position, the stairs were removed.
The bridges lifted.
The platforms slowly rose higher above the water, locking into place.
The wave machines started humming louder.
Lights dimmed.
A low siren began.
Ivy's voice echoed across the arena.
"Before the challenge begins… reminder."
The giant screens lit up.
10 000 $ — ALLIANCE REWARD
Cheers exploded.
Then the screen changed.
PERSONAL REWARD SYSTEM
Silence fell.
"If your alliance wins…"
"You will receive the reward you need the most."
Images appeared.
TG3 upgrade.
Full troops.
Max governor gear.
Max talisman.
Max equipment.
Gasps everywhere.
"For each player…"
"The system will give what is required to reach the highest level."
No one laughed now.
No one talked.
Even the fighters on the platforms were staring at the screens.
The siren grew louder.
WARNING — WAVE SEQUENCE START
The water began to move.
Waves hitting the platforms.
Chains shaking.
The plates started moving under their feet.
Ghost tightened his grip on the side rope.
Across the arena, Ivy stood on the stage.
Watching.
Not moving.
Not blinking.
Her voice one last time.
"When the tsunami alarm begins…"
"The challenge starts."
The siren screamed.
The waves rose.
The platforms shook.
And the Bear Trap challenge began.
The first wave hit harder than anyone expected.
Not enough to throw someone off, but enough to make every platform swing at the same time, chains pulling tight before relaxing again with a metallic sound that echoed across the pool.
Several players instinctively bent their knees.
One of the fighters on the far side almost lost his balance and grabbed the side rope with both hands.
"Whoa—!"
Laughter exploded from the stands.
On the platforms, nobody laughed.
Everyone understood now.
Standing still was harder than it looked.
In Ghost's headset, voices started talking at the same time.
"Spread your feet."
"Lower center."
"Don't lock your knees."
"Hold the rope."
One of his teammates spoke fast, breathing already heavier.
"This thing moves every time the wave hits."
Ghost answered calmly.
"Don't fight the movement."
"Move with it."
Another wave rolled under the structure, lifting the platforms unevenly.
Some players tried to stay straight.
Others immediately changed position.
One guy dropped to one knee.
Another sat down completely, legs wide, hands gripping the padded edge.
Someone shouted through the headset.
"Can we sit??"
A voice from the control speakers answered.
"You may stand, crouch, or kneel."
"No jumping."
"No pushing."
"No leaving your plate."
Instant reactions everywhere.
Half the fighters lowered themselves.
Some crouched like surfers.
Some sat with their legs apart to get more stability.
Some stayed standing, arms out for balance.
Jon's voice came through Ghost's headset.
"I'm sitting. Screw this."
Rex laughed in the channel.
"Stay low, less swing."
Ghost stayed standing, feet wide, knees slightly bent, one hand holding the rope, the other free for balance.
Another wave hit.
Harder.
The platforms moved in opposite directions.
A player from another kingdom slipped and almost fell, catching the chain at the last second.
The crowd screamed.
On the stage, Ivy watched the screens, jaw tight, eyes moving from one camera to another.
Her hand moved to her headset without thinking.
"Stabilize your stance," she said into the mic.
Her voice went through the fighters' channel.
Several heads turned at the sound of her.
Ghost froze for half a second when he heard it.
Ivy again.
"Lower your center of gravity."
"Don't resist the wave."
"Follow the movement."
Another wave hit, stronger this time, water splashing higher against the padding under the platforms.
One of the fighters cursed loudly.
"This thing is insane!"
Another voice laughed.
"YOU BUILT THIS!"
More voices joined.
"Yeah, Ivy!"
"You made this!"
"You enjoying this??"
On the stage, Ivy closed her eyes for a second, then answered into the mic without thinking.
"Please don't fall."
A short pause.
"I hate this thing."
For a second, nobody spoke.
Then someone shouted through the channel.
"You built it!"
Laughter exploded in several headsets at once.
Another voice added:
"Yeah, you designed it!"
Ghost smirked slightly, still focused on his balance.
Ivy answered, half laughing, half stressed.
"Yeah well… it looked easier on paper."
More laughter.
One fighter yelled:
"Come stand here then!"
She shook her head even if they couldn't see it.
"No thanks."
Another wave rolled under the platforms, stronger, lifting the entire line at once.
A few players dropped lower immediately.
Jon's voice:
"I'm not standing anymore."
Rex:
"Stay low, stay low."
Ghost spoke again, calm, steady.
"Breathe."
"Watch the rhythm."
"Wave comes every three seconds."
"Move with it."
His voice cut through the noise, and even players from other teams started copying his stance.
Feet wide.
Knees bent.
Hands loose.
Eyes forward.
On the stage, Ivy noticed.
Her eyes stayed on his camera feed longer than the others.
Of course he doesn't fall, she thought.
She pressed the mic again.
"Good control on platform row three."
Ghost heard it.
Didn't answer.
But his grip tightened slightly on the rope.
Another wave.
Harder.
The platforms swung again.
One fighter screamed.
Almost lost it.
Caught himself.
The crowd roared.
The tsunami alarm started rising in volume.
WARNING LEVEL TWO
Water pumps got louder.
The waves grew higher.
And now nobody was laughing anymore.