The diamond badge was heavier than I imagined.
Not physically — it was made from the same cold, polished, gleaming metal as all the others. But when I pinned it to my chest, it felt like a thousand eyes turned to me all at once. Every step I took through the arena halls sounded different — more echoing, more meaningful.
It was like I had walked through a mirror… and ended up on the wrong side.
—"You're getting cocky," —Ciny muttered beside me, hands laced behind her head like she was strolling through a flower field instead of a blood-stained prison of stone.— "Walking like that… chest puffed out… hero pose…"
—"I'm not puffing out anything. Just… hard to breathe."
—"Hard to breathe or hard to swallow your pride?"
—"Both."
She laughed. A light, scratchy sound that always made me forget — for just a second — where we were. I tried laughing too, but it still hurt. The hit to my left side still throbbed like a burning star lodged under my skin. But the pain was good. It reminded me I was alive. That I was still me.
The Diamond Rank dining hall felt like another world. Crystal chandeliers hung from a domed ceiling, the tables were dark polished wood, and the chairs — real chairs, padded and solid. The food… well, the food had smell, flavor, texture. It wasn't iron mush. It was food for actual people.
I sat down carefully, feeling every muscle complain. Ciny dropped her tray in front of me with a dramatic thud.
—"Eat," —she said, pushing the gray pudding toward me.
—"Didn't you say you liked pudding?"
—"I do. But I like you more, stud."
I nearly choked on my own breath. My throat locked up, the pudding looked even grayer, and heat rushed to my ears.
—"S-shut up…"
Before I could recover my breath or my dignity, the dining hall doors slammed open. Three figures walked in. Black uniforms. Spotless. No badges. No emotion.
But everyone knew who they were.
—"Supervisors," —Ciny whispered, this time with no trace of playfulness.
They were rare. People from above. They didn't eat, didn't fight, didn't speak — unless it was serious. The last time anyone saw them was when a Diamond killed an arena judge. And now… they were here.
Because of me.
—"John, Diamond Rank?"— the one in front asked. His voice was firm, no room for refusal.— "Come with us."
I stood up — but not alone. Ciny rose with me, shoulders tense, eyes sharp.
—"He's not going alone," — she said.
—"Direct order from Administration," —the man replied, raising a hand.
I looked at her. She looked back. There was no fear in her eyes — just anger. The quiet kind. The kind that builds a storm.
—"It's okay,"— I said.— "I'll go."
She didn't like it. But she didn't argue. She just held my sleeve for a heartbeat… and let go.
The hallways we walked through were different. Wider. Cleaner. The walls weren't stained. The air didn't smell like rust — it smelled sweet and artificial. Like cheap perfume and fresh paper. We climbed. And climbed. Like they were taking me outside… or up a tower.
We stopped in front of a black door. No plaque.
—"Enter."
The room was quiet. Stifling. A rectangular table sat in the center, with four chairs. Three were occupied. Somehow, I recognized all three. The "High Diamonds." Not just fighters — the elite. The ones who shaped the arena, whether the crowd knew it or not.
One of them looked at me and smirked.
—"So you're the famous John?"— he said, with a voice dancing between sarcasm and admiration.— "Thought you'd be… bulkier."
—"Sit. Don't stand there like a ghost."
I sat.
He leaned back, arms behind his head.
—"Well, John. I didn't call you here to interrogate you, or ask how you won. I saw the fight. We all did. And honestly? I loved your style. Raw, direct, fierce. You don't pretend to be something you're not. And that's why… I want to invite you to the group."
The other two jolted.
—"What?!"— they said in unison, like he had just spat fire.
—"You heard me," he said, calm as ever.— "I think John has the right profile. He just came from the bottom. Still remembers what it's like to fight for food. That's what the Arena needs. Someone who knows what's broken."
The other two went quiet, analyzing me. Their eyes locked on mine, waiting.
I waited a few seconds. My heart pounded like I was in a new match.
—"I… can. But with some conditions."
Silence.
—"Speak," —the first one said, curious.