The stadium still pulsed with tension from the previous matches. The crowd had seen raw power, wild energy, and unpredictable skills—but they had yet to witness control.
Now came the match no one expected to be exciting.
But they'd soon realize—it would be unforgettable.
> "Next Match: Candidate Tisha vs. Candidate Arafat!"
Tisha stood up from the bench quietly.
She didn't flinch.
But deep inside, she wasn't calm.
---
Walking Into Her Past
As she stepped onto the battlefield, she felt the weight of years pressing down on her shoulders.
> This arena is like the one where she lost her first real friend.
Back when she first awakened her ability—The World—and failed to control it, someone was pulled in too deep. She still saw their terrified eyes when she closed hers.
But now?
Now she walked forward not as a girl lost in fear—
But as a candidate hero.
---
Her Opponent: A Different Kind of Threat
Arafat waited across the arena. He looked casual, hands in pockets, a cocky smirk on his face.
His ability was bizarre but deadly: weight control.
He could make anything, or anyone, impossibly heavy—or feather-light.
"Tisha, right?" he asked. "I've heard of you. That world of yours... people say once they go in, they never come out the same."
Tisha didn't answer.
She just stared, quiet, focused.
The bell rang.
---
The Domain Unfolds
> "World — Open."
A soft blue glow pulsed outward from her feet, spreading across the arena in a hundred-meter radius.
Arafat froze mid-step.
"W-what is this?"
He looked around.
Everything outside the circle had vanished. Replaced with an endless, cloudy void—an empty place, suspended in nothingness.
> A place ruled by Tisha's will.
"You're inside my World now," she said softly.
"Here, I make the rules."
---
The First Counter
Arafat didn't panic.
Instead, he smirked and raised his palm.
> "Weight Press!"
Suddenly, the floor beneath Tisha's feet seemed to double, triple in pressure. Her knees buckled slightly. Breathing became harder.
Tisha gritted her teeth.
> She remembered—if someone's willpower exceeded hers, they could bend her World.
Arafat advanced, step by step, using his power to destabilize her zone.
She backed up slowly.
Her hands trembled—not from fear, but memory.
It was happening again. Just like back then—
> No. Not this time.
---
Claiming Control
She closed her eyes.
> "I'm not that scared girl anymore."
Her breath slowed.
And then she whispered:
> "World Chains."
From the air itself, glowing blue shackles formed and launched toward Arafat. They wrapped around his legs and torso, clamping tight.
"What?!"
He tried to move—his body wouldn't respond.
> "In this world, the more you resist, the tighter it gets," Tisha said.
"And the more afraid I am… the stronger I become."
Arafat shouted and tried to lift his arms, but his body refused. He was still trying to increase her weight—but the chains fed on emotional resistance.
And he was panicking now.
---
Finishing the Fight
Tisha stepped forward, slowly, as Arafat collapsed to one knee.
"You're strong," she said gently.
"But this battle wasn't about who could hit harder."
> "It's about who can face themselves."
And then—
> "World — Close."
The light vanished.
The arena returned.
Arafat dropped to the ground, gasping for breath.
The bell rang.
> "Winner: Tisha!"
---
Aftermath
Backstage, Isha ran to hug her.
"You did so well!"
Tisha didn't speak at first. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
"I… didn't lose control," she whispered.
"I was scared. But I didn't run."
Sohan placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You're perfect for our agency. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
And for the first time in years, Tisha smiled.
Not the forced one.
But a real smile.
---
[End of Chapter 14]