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"ADVANCING TO THE NEXT ROUND, THE IRON DRAGONS!"
The roar of the crowd was deafening as Zara's flying kick sent the last fighter of the West End Warriors, Henry Poulter, sprawling off the platform. With that final blow, the British team was eliminated.
The girl spun around with a victorious grin, waving to the crowd and blowing kisses, while Axel let out a celebratory scream that echoed through the arena.
Kwon's lip curled in disgust as he watched the theatrics. "Weak-ass scream," he scoffed loudly.
Park, unimpressed, chimed in, "Totally. Like Shrek on steroids."
The pair chuckled, earning a few looks from their teammates as Park searched for the Kenyan captain's reaction. Meanwhile, y/n barely registered the banter. Her eyes were locked on the elevated platform as the Spanish Furia de Pantera and Thailand's Hornet's Nest teams took their positions for the next elimination round.
Her stomach churned. The platform felt impossibly high, the fall—though cushioned by thick mats—still terrifying. The edges seemed sharper, the gaps wider, and despite her training, every instinct in her body screamed to avoid it.
"Hey."
Kwon's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. He had leaned just close enough for her to hear him over the noise of the crowd. "You good?"
The y/h/c-haired girl blinked, her throat dry as she nodded quickly. "Yeah. I'm fine."
Kwon wasn't convinced. His sharp eyes narrowed, scanning her face. "You're not worried about the Poltar-Polar...guys, are you?" he said dryly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I promise they'll survive the fall."
Y/n shot him a glare. "I said I'm fine."
"Good." Kwon straightened up, rolling his shoulders. "'Cause we're wiping the floor with these guys anyway. We'll probably win before you even have time to feel bad for 'em."
His words, cocky and cold as they were, actually managed to ease some of the pressure in her chest. The boy had a way of simplifying things, breaking them down into wins and losses—nothing else mattered.
Still, her fingers twitched, and Kwon noticed the tension in her stance.
Y/n sighed, looking down. "That's not—"
"They'll live," he cut her off with a small, crooked smirk. "It's a soft drop, y/n/n. Not Mount Everest. You act like we're throwing babies off a cliff."
