The holographic screen of EtherLink News flickered in electric blue over the squares of every city. The murmurs died down as the host, Marcus Vey, appeared in an ether-woven suit threaded with gold, his smile as polished as a script.
"Citizens of the Nexus!" His voice boomed like edited thunder. "The Architects have spoken. The fifth season of the Ether Games begins today."
A video sliced through the air: clips of past seasons—mages battling in floating arenas, fans weeping over eliminations, the Architects observing from their crystal thrones. The camera then focused on the number that sent vibrations through every throat: 10 million ETH. The largest prize in reality-show history.
"Think you have what it takes to master the Ether?" Marcus raised an arm, and behind him, a protection sigil flared—the same one that guaranteed no one would die. "Auditions are open for 48 hours. Only five teams. Ten mages per team. Will you be the next viral sensation?"
In bars, hands clenched glasses. In teenagers' bedrooms, whispers plotted strategies. #EtherGames was already trending, with clips of past contenders: Copper from Team Solaris incinerating an obstacle, Veyne laughing as her team summoned water spears.
"Remember," Marcus winked, "this isn't just about power. It's about spectacle. The rules are simple: survival, ingenuity... and ratings. Fans will vote to decide challenges, buffs, even punishments. Oh, and there will be surprises!"
The video cut to Seraphine, her hair like liquid gold, commanding her team: "If you don't shine, you don't exist." Then to Kael, splitting a steel block with his fingers. Finally, Rook, silent, scribbling something in the air no one understood.
"Want to know this season's twist?" Marcus dropped the pause like a knife. "The Architects are adding a wild card. Something we've never seen... Something even they fear."
The broadcast ended with the Games' logo burning into the ether. On the streets, public screens looped the message: Auditions now.
---
📱🌐 EtherLink Trends: The Comments That Set the Net Ablaze 🌐📱
#EtherGamesAuditions – 2.4M posts
@RealMagic_Official (✔️ verified)
Just auditioned. If they don't pick me, the Architects are blind. #TeamSolaris #TheEtherAwaits
📊 1.2M likes | 450K retweets
📹 Attached clip: A blue-haired teen explaining his audition.
#InfluencersInEtherGames – 1.8M posts
@Starlight (8.7M followers)
Obviously I'll get in. I have more followers than ALL last season's contestants COMBINED. #EtherGames #MakeItViral
🔥 Top reply: So you think this is a popularity contest? 🤡
#WildCardTheories – 3.1M posts
@TheMagicHacker (✔️ verified)
Thread 🧵: Why is NO ONE talking about what the Ether REALLY is? Not magic—TECHNOLOGY. The Architects made us believe it's ancient energy, but watch this 👇
1️⃣ Contestants' 'bodies' aren't 100% human. The Ether modifies them, 'grants' them access to manipulate the simulated reality.
2️⃣ Why do eliminated players lose powers? Because the system 'uninstalls' their access. #EtherIsSoftware
📊 Went viral in 20 mins. 5K quotes, 12K retweets.
📹 Trending Videos
🎥 "I Auditioned for Ether Games—Here's What Happened" (Vlog by @EtherGirl)
Look! This is inside the selection facility. Those crystals aren't normal… They look ALIVE. See how they glow when I get close?
🔍 Key detail: In the background, drones scan aspirants with blue beams. One screams as light pierces him.
### 📢 Controversial Take
@TheSkeptic
All these influencers think fame = selection. Fools. The Architects aren't after charisma—they want SOMETHING ELSE. Something even they don't understand.
💀 The Darkest Tweet
@AnonEther (new account)
This season's wild card isn't an object. It's a person. And they're already inside the game.
⌛ Account suspended 17 minutes later.
(Updates every 30 sec. EtherLink reminds you to hydrate if audition-queueing.)
---
The line coiled like a sleeping dragon, endless, bodies buzzing with hunger and calculation. Danny tugged his hoodie—the only one that didn't fit too tight—and exhaled.
Ahead, a girl with neon-pink hair whispered spells into her palms. "If I don't make Team Solaris, I'll die," she told her friend. Behind him, a scarred hulk growled, "Just don't stick me with Team Sage's nerds."
Danny stayed silent. Just listening, as always.
The facility was an architectural nightmare of glass and light. Floating screens replayed past highlights: ether-battles, dramatic tears, the Architects watching from on high with impassive smiles. A sphinx-like drone hovered nearby, scanning aspirants.
"Contestant #4042: Physical condition… overweight. Ether level… pending," it droned before gliding away.
Danny flushed. Overweight. Of course he was. He wasn't Copper, whose poster dominated an entire wall—last season's champion, grinning with his flawless solar magic. Nor was he Zara Nix, the highlight-reel queen, whose fans still chanted her name in line.
A lanky kid with glasses two spots ahead whispered:
"They say there's a wild card this time… something even the Architects don't fully control."
"Bullshit," scoffed another. "Just another ratings stunt."
Danny studied his own hands. Nothing special. Nothing magical. Yet something… called to him.
A hologram of Marcus Vey, the host, materialized above the crowd, his voice booming from invisible speakers:
"Welcome, future stars of the Ether! Remember: today, you're nobody. Tomorrow? You could be gods."
The line lurched forward. Danny swallowed.
He didn't want to be a god.
He just wanted to understand.
---
A woman in white approached, her smile flawless but her eyes dull. Every movement was too precise, as if calculated down to the millimeter.
"Contestant 4042, follow me."
Her voice was warm, but Danny caught the faint whir of servos as she turned. An android. Dozens of identical replicas guided other aspirants through labyrinthine glass corridors.
"What's this test? Are there any limits—?"
"All questions will be answered in due time," the android interrupted, unblinking. "For now, power down your mobile device and place it here."
A floating tray appeared. Around him, others protested:
"I didn't record anything!"
"What if I need it for my magic?"
The android's smile didn't waver. "Audition Rule 7: Total disconnect. Noncompliance means disqualification."
Danny handed over his cracked phone without argument. Nothing important on it—just blurry photos.
---
The next step was a circular chamber with porous black walls.
"This scanner detects hidden recording devices," the android explained. "If alarms sound, your journey ends here."
A guy in a leather jacket strode through confidently—and a shrill beep erupted.
"Wait, no! It's just my smartwatch!"
Too late. Guards dragged him out. Three more aspirants fell to the same trap: a ring-camera, a hologram earring, even a guy hiding a mini-drone in his hoodie.
When Danny's turn came, he held his breath. He carried nothing.
Silence.
The android nodded. "Proceed."
---
Beyond the door, the atmosphere shifted. No more polished marble or screens—just a narrow corridor lit by ether-orbs flickering like fireflies.
"What… is this?" someone muttered behind Danny.
The android halted before a curtain of metallic beads.
The white room burned. Walls, floor, even the ceiling—all solidified light. Danny blinked against the glare as whispers skittered through the group.
"Line up facing the targets," ordered a new android, her voice colder, mechanical. A soldier built for obedience.
Danny complied, hyperaware of his own awkwardness in this sterile space. Why does everything here feel designed to unsettle you?
---
The android distributed wristbands—silver filaments thin as thread. They clicked on contact with skin.
"This band is your temporary tether to the Ether," she said, clamping one onto Danny's wrist. "Lose it, damage it, and you're out."
The moment metal touched flesh, heat surged through him. Not pain—just wrongness, like something slithering through his veins, searching.
Then came the fire.
A white flash erupted from his palm. Not real flame—raw magic, formless energy, glowing in his hands for the first time.
Around him, others reacted:
- A guy whooped.
- A girl recoiled.
- A purple-haired contestant laughed, spinning the light between her fingers.
Danny just stared. He'd seen this on TV a thousand times. Holding it was different.
---
Targets rose from the floor—ten meters away, half-meter radius.
"Aim. Fire when ready. Five attempts only."
No instructions. No tricks. Just precision.
Danny raised his hand, feeling the Ether's weight. He didn't know control—but he'd improvise.
He fired.
The white bolt lashed out like a whip, grazing the target's edge. Erratic. Clumsy.
Beside him, a rune-tattooed guy nailed a near-perfect shot. Others cheered.
Danny closed his eyes. Visualized:
- Firing angle: Too wide.
- Power: Fluctuating, hesitant.
- Correction needed: 12% left, 5% more force.
He fired again.
This time—bullseye.
The android didn't praise anyone, but her gaze lingered on Danny a beat too long.
And for a split second, he swore he saw numbers in the glare.
Tiny. Fleeting. Like code flickering in the air.
Then he blinked—and they vanished.
---
"Return your bands. The test is complete."
The contestants obeyed, some caressing the metal one last time. Danny removed his without protest. The Ether's heat dissipated instantly, leaving only a phantom tingle.
"You'll receive notice within 72 hours if you advance. Thank you for participating."
The group dispersed. Some compared shots, laughing at mistakes. Danny didn't join them. He took the stairs alone, stepped into the dusk, and inhaled the city's cold air.
On the walk home, nothing had changed: giant screens hyped the Games, crowds debated magic and auditions. No one glanced at him. No one guessed he'd just channeled Ether for the first time.
It had been… fun.
Magic, after all, was just math. A system of variables to be understood, calculated, mastered.
Unlike people—noisy, messy, unpredictable.