Rhys stepped through the shimmering extraction portal, leaving the bloody, simulated jungle behind him. The chaotic energy of the transit field dissipated, replaced by the cool, sterile air of a vast, metallic hall.
He took a steadying breath, letting the carefully constructed facade of exhaustion and minor injury settle back onto his face. His shoulder throbbed with a phantom pain from the glancing blow he had allowed himself to take. Maintaining the illusion required constant effort.
He was not alone. The other nine survivors from his trial group materialized around him, their expressions a mixture of weary relief, lingering adrenaline, and deep suspicion as they eyed each other.
The brutal free-for-all might be over, but the competition was not. These were the rivals who had clawed their way through a thousand others. No one here was weak, and no one could be trusted.
