After the briefing, all one thousand participants were warped again—this time, not to a palace, but to isolation.
Each appeared in a separate chamber. A personal waiting room.
Dirga stood in the center of his own. Stark walls. Soft lighting. No sound but the ticking of a single clock mounted above the exit.
24:00.
The countdown had begun.
He took a breath and dropped into a seated position. Legs folded. Spine straight.
Meditation first. Then sleep.
There was no need to burn energy early. His real battle would begin when the clock ran dry.
He wasn't nervous. He wasn't excited. He was still. Focused. Aligned with the pull of the singularity growing inside him.
...
00:10.
Ten minutes left.
A syrupy voice slid into the room from nowhere.
"Hello, hello, my sweet little murderers~" Love's tone was saccharine and cruel, like blood candy melting on a blade. "We're starting soon. I do hope you're ready~"
