The hum of the high-end medical pods in the Team Thunder recovery lounge filled the room with a steady, reassuring rhythm. After the grueling battles of the second phase, the members of Team Thunder—Ninten, Mark, Fi, Dent, Gic, and Thunder—were finally back online, their physical injuries healed by nano-surgeons and their stamina fully restored. Outside their bay, the Wi-Fi systems and data networks of the training compound flashed green, signaling that full operational connectivity was back.
As Thunder stretched his arms, flexing his muscles to shake off the lingering stiffness from his last bout, the automated doors slid open with a sharp hiss.
Stepping into the room with a smug, mocking grin was Lucky. He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe as he looked over the group.
"You guys barely scraped by," Lucky scoffed, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. "You were lucky this time—you didn't have to face Arsh-Al. But in this upcoming third phase, you won't be so fortunate. Arsh-Al is an absolute monster. He has pinpoint precision with Sakti, commands pure Du'Ah like it's second nature, wields all three types of Abha, masters every weapon known to the realm, and can literally transform his physical form at will."
Mark raised an eyebrow, adjusting his cybernetic visor. "Sounds like a walking cheat code. What's his deal?"
"His deal is that he's going to crush whoever crosses his path," Lucky snapped back, before tossing a heavy set of training weights onto the floor. "Come on. Consider this a warm-up. If you aren't sweating now, Arsh-Al is going to turn you into dust."
For the next hour, Lucky put them through an intense, brutal warm-up regimen, pushing their reflexes, core stamina, and tactical synchronization to the absolute brink before the grand transition of the tournament.
***
### THE GATHERING ON THE ISLE OF TRIALS
Hours later, the grand team gathering commenced. All qualifying competitors from across the realms were transported to a massive, isolated island rented specifically for the high-stakes third phase of the tournament. The coastline was jagged and covered in dense, mist-shrouded jungles, while the interior featured towering artificial mountains and ruined coliseums.
Thousands of elite fighters stood gathered in the central landing basin, murmuring among themselves. Suddenly, the skies above darkened as a towering holographic projection flickered to life, accompanied by the deep, resonant voice of the **Eighth Hidden Maliqun King**.
The King's speech was brief, sharp, and carried the weight of absolute authority across the island:
"Warriors of the Hidden Maliqun Country. Phase Two tested your individual endurance. Phase Three tests your supremacy. There are no rules here except survival and dominance. The island is your theater. Let the massacre begin."
With a deafening sonic boom, the phase officially started.
Instantly, Team Thunder moved as a cohesive unit, gathering at the geographic center of the island. They immediately went on the offensive, hunting down rival fighters and racking up points with terrifying efficiency. As the live holographic leaderboards updated across the sky, the current rankings flashed in bold gold letters:
1. Ninten
2. Mark
3. Fi
4. Thunder
5. Gic
6. Dent
7. Freak
8. Riber
9. Zex
10. Ousmane
Freak had fallen behind on the leaderboard simply because he hadn't actively participated in Phase Two, yet every single competitor on the island knew the truth: Freak was still widely considered the single strongest combatant among them all.
Without warning, Freak broke away from the core group. He soared high into the upper stratosphere, becoming a mere speck against the clouds. Raising his hands, he unleashed his signature **Space-Type Attacks**, shooting hundreds of brilliant, tiny, star-like projectiles raining down across the entire island. The explosive spatial shockwaves struck with surgical precision, shattering the terrain and instantly separating Team Thunder from one another in a chaotic cloud of dust and flying debris.
***
### THUNDER'S ISOLATION
"Mark! Fi! Gic! Dent!" Thunder shouted through the swirling smoke, trying to find his teammates—his biological brothers in arms.
The smoke cleared, but his brothers were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Thunder's path was blocked by six imposing figures stepping out from the dense jungle canopy.
It was **Team Suleiman**—the six sons of Suleiman, one of the wealthiest and most ruthless businessmen in the Hidden Maliqun Country. Because Freak technically operated as a servant under their banner, Team Suleiman carried an air of supreme entitlement, though Freak had just abandoned their immediate vicinity.
"Well, look who got lost from his pack," the eldest Suleiman brother sneered, stepping forward. "Time to put the stray dog down."
**Hexa-Trouble Formation!**
All six members of Team Suleiman surrounded Thunder in a synchronized geometric pattern, unleashing a barrage of synchronized energy streams and physical strikes designed to overwhelm him from every possible angle.
Thunder gritted his teeth, his body flaring with defensive energy as he parried a heavy blow from the left while dodging a kinetic beam from the right. He was heavily outnumbered and locked in a vicious struggle, his mind racing under the immense pressure.
In the middle of parrying a ferocious combo, his thoughts suddenly flashed back to his brutal, defining match against Leomord. The memory rushed through his mind with blinding clarity—and right in the middle of the clash, a strange spatial anomaly occurred.
*FWOOSH.*
Thunder literally vaporized into thin air, leaving Team Suleiman swinging at empty space in utter confusion.
***
### THE CLASH OF TITANS
On the other side of the island, standing amidst the ruins of a shattered monolith, Ninten scanned the horizon. His eyes locked onto a familiar figure descending from the upper atmosphere.
It was Freak.
Ninten didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, locking his gaze on the most powerful fighter in the tournament, and openly challenged him. The tension in the air dropped to absolute zero. Across the island, combatants from every other team paused, watching the standoff—and not a single soul dared to interrupt or step between them.
**TO BE CONTINUED...**