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Chapter Two: A Tournament?
Over the years following the Great Catastrophe, childhood changed.
It was no longer measured by how innocent a day was—but by whether a child had enough to stay alive… or be noticed.
And among the few things people preserved amidst the chaos—raising it even above necessities—was the Tournament of Emirate Clash.
Not merely a competition, but a rite of passage. A mirror reflecting who deserves to be seen… and who will remain a shadow.
From the age of six, the gates open for the young ones eager to prove themselves—before their core awakens.
At ten… the real stage begins.
There, in the heart of fortified Emirates, the arenas waited—like predators waiting for prey.
But some… had never heard of it.
{Kai's Perspective}
"You're joking, right?"
Ellis said it, eyes wide in genuine shock, as if the world had just flipped upside down in an instant.
I raised an eyebrow slowly, my face blank of guilt or embarrassment. "About what?"
"The Emirate Clash!"
His voice rose higher than intended. He quickly lowered it, glancing around as if simply saying the name might summon guards or awaken some forbidden law.
"How do you not know what that is?! Everyone's excited about it—even toddlers look forward to it like some sacred holiday!"
Worry began to creep across my face. I muttered,
"I've never heard of it before…"
A brief silence.
Then Ellis sighed, long and dramatic, as if he had taken it upon himself to fix an educational disaster.
He sat cross-legged in front of me, took the stance of a serious teacher, and raised one finger in the air.
"Alright, listen closely."
"The tournament is split into two phases. One for us—those under ten who haven't received the Corecall yet. That part is called Manifestation of Power. The other is for those whose Neva has awakened. It's called the Emirate Clash."
He lowered his finger slightly, his eyes glowing with excitement.
"The pre-core phase is all about instinct, wits, and raw courage. It's held once a year, open to any child between six and nine. Some join for the challenge, some for the fame… but the ambitious ones? They do it for a rank up."
I tilted my head, interest rising. "A rank?"
Ellis nodded slowly, meaningfully.
"Yeah. Every citizen has a secret classification. Even us. And if you stand out during the tournament, your rank goes up. That means better food, comfier beds… and maybe—if you're really lucky—a personal sponsor."
"They don't tell us our rank," he added. "It's used for other things… but you can guess it from a few signs."
His voice dropped to a whisper, as if about to share some forbidden truth.
"But that's just the start. Once you turn ten, and undergo the Corecall… that's when the real phase begins."
He leaned in, voice taut with tension.
"That's when the Linked Stream Arena opens. Every contestant is ranked by their Neva and combat style. The tournament shifts into a mix of duels, group battles, and survival zones… It's a full-spectrum test of who you really are."
"Even…" Ellis swallowed before saying it.
"Even some stages take place outside the Citadels walls."
My eyes sparkled with a small, eager grin. I whispered,
"Whaaat… are you serious?"
Without missing a beat, my blonde friend replied,
"Of course. We'll have to use special suits—like the pros wear."
Then he added,
"But the danger level stays high."
My eyes slowly widened. I muttered, "Sounds… dangerous."
"It is," Ellis said, with a hint of thrill only the rarest people could enjoy.
Then he looked up—toward the artificial sky, its shimmering energy dome reflecting a forgotten shade of blue from the pre-catastrophe world.
"They say winners of the finals receive direct offers from elite academies… or even immediate recruitment from the military, before the Neva test."
He added in a quieter tone, almost confessing:
"The tournament isn't just about proving yourself… it's the first glimpse the other Emirates get of you, before the Corecall."
I remained silent. His words echoed in me—some unfamiliar shiver, unsure if it was fear… or something deeper.
A battle… before I even had power.
And war… after the energy awakens.
I didn't know which was more deadly.
"I see… I see."
I finally said, a voice inside me stirring with questions I had no answers for.
"Alright!"
I raised my hands to the sky as if declaring some grand national speech, my expression firm, eyes half closed in dramatic flair.
It looked… theatrical.
Ellis had already stood up by then, and immediately shouted:
"Of course not!!"
"Have you gone mad? We'll be crushed out there!"
"We're joining," I said, still in the same pose, voice sharper.
"Oh no…"
He covered his face with a hand—pure, tragic disappointment.
Then peeked at me through a small gap in his fingers.
"You're not going to change your mind, are you?"
I changed my stance, placing a hand on my chest like I was reciting a sacred vow.
"Never!"
Ellis rubbed his head in defeat and sighed, resigned to his fate.
"Fine… I couldn't change your mind even if I tried."
He raised his finger again, giving one final lesson:
"But… we've got only four months. So we'd better start preparing now."
"Huh?!"
"Yes. Besides eating and sleeping, every hour goes to training. Both mandatory and free time."
My willpower started melting…
"But we already train eight hours a day… Shouldn't we just go harder instead?"
"No. Not enough."
"Fourteen hours."
"…Sorry, what?"
I leaned closer with my ear toward him.
He came near, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted:
"Fourteen hours!!!"
I staggered back from the force of it.
"Geez… you could've just said it normally."
I rubbed my ear, now numb.
"I know… you hear, but you don't listen."
I stared into space a moment, then began counting with my fingers.
"1,680 hours of training."
"Whoa… that was fast," Ellis said in surprise.
"But you won't survive even half if you keep whining."
I dropped to my knees, forehead hitting the solid ground in utter despair.
"This is torture… torture."
Ellis glanced up at the sky, then to his old watch strapped to his wrist.
"We're late getting back… We'll be punished if we don't hurry."
He looked at me for a second, then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.
"It'll be fun… Come on!!"
I was absolutely crushed by all this terrible news…
But, without mercy—
My only friend lunged forward, grabbed my belt like I was a sack of potatoes,
And started running through the streets like he was dragging a pet!
I screamed as I was hauled behind him:
"ELLIIIIIS!!"
But his laughter only echoed louder, bouncing off the high walls of the Citadel—
As our strange journey toward "Manifestation of Power" began in the most ridiculous way possible.
End of Chapter Two
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