The tournament continued, but the tension in the air was thicker than ever.
They didn't need anyone to tell them, they could see it. Their opponents this time were strong, just from their presence, it felt as though the elements shifted to welcome them on stage.
The wind around Aria's platform had gone from chaotic to apocalyptic.
Her opponent stood at the far end of the combat box—humanoid but wrong, proportions stretched and compressed in ways that suggested it had been designed by someone who understood aerodynamics better than anatomy. Its body was segmented, joints that allowed rotation in directions that shouldn't be possible, and from gaps in what passed for armor, visible currents of air moved with the same rhythmic flow as breathing.
A wind-user facing a wind-user.
