Raphael Earhart
– Begin at the end of the count, – Alea repeated, her commanding voice echoing across the arena. – One, two... three! Begin!
As Alea gave the signal, the spectators, myself included, leaned forward in anticipation. Everyone expected a burst of action or at least a first move.
But nothing happened.
Mia and Selena simply stood there, silently staring at each other.
It was unsettling. Their stillness seemed to paralyze the arena itself. The tension between them—if there even was any—was impossible to detect.
Perhaps they were calculating, trying to anticipate each other's moves. Or maybe they were simply waiting for the right moment.
