Etheric Industrial Stadium, Beauxer, Republic of Usona
Sedar smiled as he contemplated the scoreboard one last time, before making his exit.
Aviye was doing well for itself. He felt vindicated for his choice in speaking with Xiaodan Xu-Meng, all those months ago.
Hadar was a distant twenty-first, but there was no pressure to win, just to perform well and grow stronger. Aside from kicking out a poorly planned Lazian expedition, Hadar had been untouched by the Continental War.
His nation was content to enjoy the peace, but he had accepted that his shoulders would bear much of the weight of that peace. Thus, it was his obligation to become as strong as possible.
He found Zai walking around the booths, accompanied by a rather surly-looking fellow who seemed to be in his mid-twenties or maybe early thirties. He had the rough look and hard eyes of a violent man, and an air of cold discipline that hinted his violent nature was constrained.
