Adam, the referee, floated serenely at the center of the arena, a calm anchor in a sea of anticipation. A gentle, knowing smile touched his lips.
"Before we begin the next round," his voice boomed, a sound that was both a gentle whisper and a cosmic thunderclap, reaching every soul in the assembly, "let us have a break. For one month, all contestants, both demigod and mortal, shall rest and prepare."
A collective, universe-spanning groan of disappointment erupted from the stands. Trillions of voices, united in their desire for entertainment, booed on the this announcement.
It was a sound that could have shaken even DemiGods to their core. But Adam simply laughed, a warm, genuine sound that seemed to carry the weight of a billion years.
This was not disrespect. This was passion. He knew that lifeforms who were this open, this emotionally invested, who could boo a God one moment and pray to him the next, were the very wellspring from which the most potent faith was born.
