𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘| Miguel Diaz [ONGOING FOR SEASON 6 PART 3]

𝒍. zen master

chapter fifty:
❛ zen master ❜

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The dojo hummed with nervous energy, every breath held like a storm waiting to break. Sensei Barnes's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the charged atmosphere. "Top 12, get ready!"

The fighters-twelve of the dojo's best-stood shoulder to shoulder in a disciplined line, battered and bruised from earlier rounds. Their wounds were marks of resilience, badges of pride. They were warriors, each of them fueled by the same hunger: victory. Barcelona and the Sekai Taikai loomed on the horizon, close enough to taste, yet still out of reach. The weight of the stakes sat heavy on every shoulder, pressing down until each fighter was taut like a bowstring.

Arizona stood among them, her pulse thrumming in her ears as she watched Barnes pace before the line. The flags tied to her belt flapped slightly when she moved, colorful targets that painted her as both predator and prey. She felt the gaze of her fellow competitors-hard stares measuring her worth, testing her resolve. But Arizona didn't flinch. She remained still, her breathing slow and even, centered as a stone. Be like water, she reminded herself.

Barnes's steps were deliberate, each one loud and purposeful as his eyes raked over the group, a predator appraising its meal. He exuded danger, his expression daring anyone to show a hint of fear. "Today's challenge is Battle Royale," he announced, his voice as cold and unyielding as steel. "The rules are simple: Protect your flags. Steal your opponents'. Lose your flags, and you're out. The ones with the most flags at the end will advance to Barcelona. The rest will be judged on performance."

His gaze narrowed, slicing through the group. "Impress me-or don't bother showing up tomorrow."

Arizona's fists tightened at her sides, the flags tied to her belt seeming heavier now. Bright and defiant, they taunted her. Win or lose, they're up for grabs. Her breath steadied as the strategy began to form in her mind. This wasn't a free-for-all. She wouldn't win through brute force; this fight would demand more-patience, focus, and clarity.

Her gaze flickered to Miguel a few spots down the line. His expression was unreadable-calm, collected, a picture of quiet intensity. But when his eyes met hers, something softened in the quiet glance they shared. It was fleeting, but she caught it-a small, unspoken promise. He wouldn't take it easy on her. She wouldn't want him to.

"You have two minutes," Barnes barked. The room tensed, a dozen bodies locking into readiness, shoulders straightening, and muscles coiling like springs.