Soon… only three would remain. Three chosen ones to join Cassandre's team in the mini-world, that mission woven with secrets and risks that even the most attentive spectators could not yet fathom. Three survivors selected not only for their strength, but for their role in a future already being drawn, far from the arena's cries.
And among those who had passed the first round, it was time to apply the tacit rules… or, when needed, to bend them.
This was where things got serious.
The term was never spoken aloud. Too crude. Too human.
But everyone understood.
Match fixing.
The two finalists of the tournament, whoever they were, would automatically be selected. Their victory already sealed their place. There was no doubt about it — the logic of the showcase demanded it. Grandeur had to be visible, with fresh, brilliant names, carriers of stories and spectacle.
One remained.
The choice of the third chosen.
And that choice… belonged to me.
