GUARDIANS

IV. Rescuing the Fourth

Day two

The second day of the final round had begun, and the air was thick with tension. Faith, Wynter, and Elliott trudged through the long hallway, the weight of the previous day's events still lingering in their steps. Though exhausted, they knew there was no room to relax—not when everything was at stake.

As they approached their seats in the viewing gallery, they were greeted by an unwelcome sight: their opponents for the day, led by the ever-confident Dalla, leaning casually against a railing. Her sharp smirk cut through the tension like a blade.

"Ready to lose?" she taunted, her tone as venomous as ever.

Wynter, unfazed, narrowed his eyes at her. "We've got a deal. Did you forget?"

Dalla let out a low, mocking chuckle. "Why would I forget? It's your umbrella, after all."

The comment sent a chill through the trio, but they refused to let it show. Wynter's expression darkened, but he offered no reply. Instead, they moved past her without another word, their silence heavier than any retort.

When they finally sat down, Faith's demeanor caught Wynter's attention. She seemed distant, her hands fidgeting as she avoided his gaze.

"You okay?" he asked, leaning slightly toward her. "Is it about the plan?"

Faith hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. "No... it's not that."

"Then what is it?" Wynter pressed, his voice soft but firm.

Faith glanced at him briefly before looking away. Her voice was barely a whisper. "It's about the deal... What if we—what if something goes wrong?"

Wynter's expression softened as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "This isn't like yesterday," he said calmly. "Today's about more than winning—it's a rescue."

Elliott, who had been sitting quietly beside them, let out a resigned sigh. "Faith, we've been over this. We're not just walking in blind. We have contingencies."

"And," Wynter added with a faint smile, "we've got you—someone who can handle a gun like no one else here. What bad can happen?"

Despite his words, a shadow of uncertainty lingered in Faith's eyes. She knew this wasn't a simple competition anymore. The stakes were higher, the risks greater, and every choice they made now could have consequences far beyond the arena. As the trio waited for their turn, the faint cheers of the crowd and the muffled announcements only added to the growing weight on her shoulders.

Faith stole a glance at Wynter and Elliott. They looked calm, determined, and ready for what lay ahead. She took a deep breath and silently vowed to push her doubts aside—for them, for the mission, and for the promise they had made.

Prof. Luxe's Office

As the first battle of the final round unfolded, the crowd's cheers echoed through the stadium, but Prof. Luxe was conspicuously absent from the VIP area. Instead, he remained in his office, seated at his desk, his fingers rhythmically tapping against its polished surface. He wasn't watching the matches—he was waiting.

When the door to his office creaked open, Luxe turned his chair to see who had entered. Dante stood in the doorway, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. He didn't bother knocking, his presence as commanding as always.

"I didn't expect a visit from you," Luxe said, leaning back in his chair with a faint smirk. "Shouldn't you be in the stands, watching your son?"

Dante stepped into the room, his boots clicking softly against the tiled floor. "Trellis is almost here," he said flatly, as though that explained everything. "Besides, I trust Wynter and his team to handle themselves. They don't need me hovering over them."