Lr stories part 1: Power royale

Chapter 2: First Blood

**Announcer 1:** "Oh ho ho! Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for our first major update! The first blood has been drawn, and we're down to 99 players! That's right, one unfortunate soul has been sent packing, and the real game has just begun!"

**Announcer 2:** "Indeed. First blood is often a pivotal moment in any competition. It not only marks the beginning of eliminations but also sets the tone for the remaining players. Will they become more cautious or more aggressive? Only time will tell."

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William and Angelo trudged through the forest, their senses on high alert. Every crack of a twig, every rustle of leaves, set their nerves on edge. The announcement of the first death had come over the speakers just minutes ago, sending a chill down both their spines. The stakes were real now.

"I wonder who it was," Angelo muttered, his eyes scanning the treeline. He had shifted into a hawk earlier to get a better view of the area, but even from the sky, the forest was dense, and he hadn't seen any signs of other players.

"Does it matter?" William replied, his tone dismissive. "All that matters is that it wasn't us. Let's keep it that way."

Angelo shot him a look. "You know, you could try caring a little more about the people in this game."

William snorted. "Why? Most of them would stab us in the back the first chance they got. This isn't some friendly competition—it's kill or be killed."

Angelo sighed but didn't argue. He knew William was right, even if he hated to admit it. The Power Royale wasn't a place for morals, but Angelo couldn't shake the feeling that there had to be a better way to survive this nightmare than becoming just another killer.

As they continued their trek, they heard the faint sound of crying. Both men stopped, exchanging a wary glance. Slowly, they moved toward the source of the noise, their bodies tense, ready for anything.

In a small clearing, they found him—a kid, no more than 14 years old, sitting on the ground with his knees pulled to his chest. His eyes were red from crying, and as William and Angelo stepped into view, he flinched, ready to unleash a deadly blast from his eyes.

"Easy there, kid," William said, holding up his hands. "We're not here to hurt you."

The boy—Laurel—looked at them with a mixture of fear and suspicion. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice shaky but laced with a hint of anger.

"I'm Angelo, and this is William. We're just trying to survive, same as you."

Laurel's eyes narrowed. "Why should I trust you?"

William rolled his eyes. "You probably shouldn't. But we're stronger together than we are alone. You've got a pretty powerful ability there—I'd say you'd be a valuable ally."

Laurel hesitated, his gaze flicking between the two older boys. "I don't care about the money," he muttered. "I just want to find my dad and make him pay for what he did."

Angelo knelt down, his expression softening. "We can help you, Laurel. But you've got to stick with us, okay? We'll watch each other's backs."

Laurel wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath before nodding. "Okay. But if you try anything, I'll—"

"Yeah, yeah, lasers from your eyes, we get it," William interrupted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Let's just keep moving. We're sitting ducks out here."

The trio set off together, a tenuous alliance formed out of necessity. As they moved deeper into the forest, the tension in the air was palpable. They knew they weren't alone in this deadly game, and with every step, the danger grew.

---

**Announcer 1:** "Would you look at that, folks! Our first trio has been formed! William, Angelo, and Laurel—an unlikely team, but one that might just shake things up!"

**Announcer 2:** "They're making a smart play. In the early stages, alliances can provide protection and increase your chances of survival. But as the map shrinks and the competition heats up, we'll see how long that alliance lasts."

---

As night fell, the trio found a small cave to take shelter in. Angelo, ever the optimist, had shifted into a wolf earlier to scout the area, ensuring they wouldn't be ambushed while they slept.

William leaned against the cave wall, staring at the fire they had built. "So, kid," he said, his voice breaking the silence. "What's your story? Why are you really here?"

Laurel hesitated, then looked up, his expression hardening. "My dad killed my mom. He thought I didn't know, but I saw it happen. No one believed me. So, when I heard about this competition, I figured if I won, I'd have the power to make him pay."

Angelo's heart ached for the kid, but he knew better than to show pity. "That's a heavy reason to be here, Laurel. But you've got us now. We'll help you."

William didn't say anything, but he gave a slight nod. Maybe he was a greedy loser, but even he had to admit—the kid deserved a chance at revenge.

The fire crackled in the silence as they settled in for the night, their minds heavy with thoughts of the battles yet to come. In the darkness, the whispers of the forest surrounded them, reminding them that this was only the beginning.

And as the night wore on, one thing became clear: in the Power Royale, alliances were fragile, and trust was a luxury they couldn't afford.