EQUINOX || The Catalysts Series, #3

XXVI

Her face appears in one of the large grids of the projected screen, and as she watches, her not so glorious moment is replayed to the world: where she'd unflatteringly fell face first into the ground after being so close to the goal. To the 150th place.

Lena feels her face heat up. Even if she wishes with all her might for whatever saint, she knows everyone had seen that, because she was just as close as the 150th place winner—whoever it had been. And therefore, she would've been near the spotlight before they cut off the footage. But did they seriously have to do her dirty like that, zooming in on her face in the ground?

The panelists are speaking—speculating the previous match and announcing the next exciting one. Lena doesn't hear much of it, can't be bothered to pay attention. Her blood is pumping in her veins, her heart beating even louder than she was in the battlefields.

Finally, for what seems like eternity, the panelists take over the skies. Their images all come up in enhanced lenses, neatly arranged in six rectangular frames before it continues a zoomed view of only three portraits per time, showing the esteemed panelists' expressions closely.

Lena is about to wonder where they are, when a platform is raised, while theirs lowered simultaneously. As they go down, the live cameras shift the attention to the panelists: angles from a bird's eye view with the six people sitting behind a long desk on top of the raised platform, then a closer view of each of them. They wear varying faces: Azrael and Arcana are quirkily exchange a dialogue about the battles; Grandmaster Nerida calmly chips on with some of her comments on ability usage; Dr Brennan remains thin-lipped and observant behind those glasses; Declan Blakewell is casually leaning in his chair as if not paying attention, but his dark, speculating eyes say otherwise.

And finally, there's Caelus, who's completely turned away from the camera views, as if he knows exactly which angle they are taking the footage from. His elbow is propped gently halfway across the table, his forearm flanking the side of his face.

Lena studies him cautiously, looking for any sign of... what, exactly? She doesn't know. It had been instinct to just lay her eyes over someone familiar, perhaps.

She also thought that maybe he's been watching.

Because foolishly, the world might have already seen whatever stunt she's pulled—and perhaps they did, if they notice her amidst the many other talented students—and yet deep down it doesn't matter to her unless him of all people notice and saw her.

It's a strange feeling, one she can't quite place. Is it recognition she seeks? No, if that were the case, she'd be proud and satisfied enough—even if her feed is humiliating, it's undeniable that it's worth the broadcast since she is indeed the 151th player—when she went live and when she realised she was broadcasted to the world. It doesn't have to be from Caelus alone; she would've felt fulfilled before when she knew she's being watched. What is it then, for her to want some sort of reaction from him when she looks at him so expectantly right now?

And it's not as if he can find her in the crowd and share eye contact like they always do. Caelus is far away and displayed on the podium as a panelist and judge for the Annual Games, while she is but one of the many participants here.

It's because he was the one who helped hone her abilities, Lena decides. Caelus is the one chosen—albeit reluctantly initially—by Arcana and forced to mentor her when she first arrived in this Academy. That's right. She wants him to recognise the effort she had just put into this game, for all the improvement she's made. He is the one who trained her, but she equally put in great effort in improving herself, and it should have shown through her performance in this round of the Annual Games.