Dr. Gadget's cane tapped as his visor flickered again before his gruff voice echoed through the stadium.
"Next up… Phantomstrike."
The stadium fell into an almost eerie silence as Phantomstrike stepped away from the group of candidates.
He didn't say a word, his movements slow and a bit stiff. His dark hood concealed his face in shadows, and the dark tendrils of his cape seemed to blend into the dimming light of the stadium.
Without acknowledging the crowd or his fellow candidates, he simply walked toward the center of the field. His quiet presence was unsettling in contrast to the flashier displays before him.
As Phantomstrike approached, the field's configuration shifted. Platforms rose from the ground, and black drones and androids emerged from hidden compartments, moving with mechanical accuracy.
