The group of losers, Team Red, all removed their jerseys one after the other, their movements slow and heavy with the weight of defeat. They had lost. And now, as punishment, they were instructed by the AI system of Limit Breaker to change into dark jerseys—a color that marked them as failures.
The AI guided them through the sterile, dimly lit halls, its voice devoid of emotion, merely an executioner carrying out its duty. Their footsteps echoed against the metallic floors, a solemn reminder of their loss. Soon, they arrived at a large room, identical in size to the one they had slept in the previous night. But this room was different. There were no beds, no furniture—nothing but the cold, hard ground where several other players already lay, their faces cast in the same shadow of disappointment.
They had probably lost their matches just as Team Red had. And like them, they had been herded here by the AI.
