Kael stood with the calm weight of someone born to command. His armor, even without movement, seemed to radiate with a subtle celestial shimmer—light that bent toward him, shadows that respectfully pulled away.
"I've fought in three of these tournaments," Kael said, voice steady but amplified by his aura alone. "Each time, they changed the field. The enemies. The rules. But one thing always stayed the same."
He let that hang in the air for a moment. Then:"The belief that the strongest would rise."
Zaya rolled her eyes. "Here comes the speech."
But Kael wasn't grandstanding. His tone didn't carry pride. It carried warning.
"This stage is different. They've stopped testing strength. Now they're testing control. Not just of the battlefield…" His gaze swept across the room. "…but of you."
A murmur rippled through the teams.
