The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a faint, bluish glow that illuminated the center where Rage sat, bound to a chair. His muscles, still tense, twitched in defiance against the restraints, though it was his mind—not his body—that was now the focus of attention. He glared ahead, his eyes wild with a mixture of anger and unease, the shadows of defeat still fresh on his face.Across from him stood Elena Sterling, her presence commanding yet strangely serene. Dressed in a flowing dark robe, her silver hair shimmered under the soft light. Her gaze was calm, but sharp, like a blade hidden beneath a velvet sheath. Elena was known for her mastery over the mind, a power far beyond what most could comprehend."Relax, Rage," she said, her voice smooth and even, as if she were talking to an old friend. "This won't hurt. Unless, of course, you resist."Rage let out a low growl, his fists clenching against the restraints. "You think you can break me?" His voice was hoarse, laced with venom. "You're just like the rest of them. Arrogant. I'll tell you nothing."Elena's expression didn't falter. She stepped closer, her fingers moving subtly in the air as she began to weave the energy around her. Her mind-bending abilities were far more refined than the brute-force tactics of benders like Rage. She didn't need to overpower him; she needed to find the cracks in his mental defenses."Oh, I'm not here for you to 'tell' me anything," Elena said, her voice barely above a whisper now. "I'll find what I need."With a graceful movement, she placed her hand near Rage's forehead, not quite touching, but close enough that the air between them crackled with tension. Rage tried to pull away, but the restraints held firm. A cold sweat formed on his brow as he felt Elena's presence begin to slip into his mind, like tendrils of mist creeping into every corner of his consciousness.Suddenly, the room around him shifted. The walls faded, replaced by the cold, sterile corridors of his memories. Rage blinked, trying to shake the sudden disorientation, but it was too late. Elena had already pulled him into the depths of his own mind.They stood in a dimly lit training hall. It was eerily quiet, save for the soft thud of fists striking targets and the distant murmurs of orders being barked. Rage's younger self appeared before them, sweat dripping down his face as he struggled to land a precise punch on the wooden training dummy. His form was off, his movements stiff."You thought power would change your fate?" a voice echoed through the memory. Rage's old teacher stepped into view, her cold eyes gleaming with contempt. "Look at you now—a mere puppet dancing to the whims of your own delusions."Rage flinched, the bitterness of that moment still sharp in his mind. His teacher had been ruthless, a constant reminder of his inadequacy. No matter how hard he trained, how much pain he endured, it had never been enough. He had been weak then—weak and desperate for approval.Elena walked silently beside him in the memory, observing everything with a piercing gaze. "You carry this memory with you," she said softly. "This need to prove yourself. But to whom, Rage? To your old teacher? To yourself?""Get out of my head!" Rage roared, the memory around them shattering like glass. The training hall dissolved, replaced by a swirl of chaotic images—battles fought, enemies defeated, moments of fleeting victory followed by the crushing weight of isolation.Elena steadied herself, undeterred by Rage's resistance. She was getting closer, slipping past his anger and defenses, inching toward the truth he was so desperately trying to bury.Suddenly, they were thrust into another memory, this one darker. The shadows deepened, and the air grew colder. Rage stood, older now, in the middle of a battlefield, his fists bloody and his chest heaving. The bodies of fallen benders littered the ground around him. His comrades—people he had fought alongside—were nothing more than casualties of war. Yet, amidst the carnage, Rage stood tall, triumphant, his heart hardened by the violence."You think I'm weak?" Rage snarled, his voice trembling with rage. "I became stronger. I had no choice!"Elena studied him, her gaze piercing through the scene. "You became what you feared most," she said quietly. "A tool of destruction. But it's not strength that drives you—it's fear. Fear that you'll never escape the chains of your past."Rage's breathing grew heavy, his mind trembling under the weight of Elena's words. "Shut up!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "You don't know anything about me!"Elena's eyes softened, and for a brief moment, her tone was almost sympathetic. "You're right, Rage. I don't know everything. But I do know that this—" she gestured to the battlefield around them, "—isn't the real you. You've let your past consume you, and now it's controlling you."Rage stumbled back, his hands trembling as he tried to push her out of his mind. But Elena was relentless, her presence growing stronger as she closed in on the truth.And then, she found it.In the farthest corner of Rage's mind, buried beneath layers of pain and fury, Elena saw a flash of something more—something darker. It wasn't just about power. It wasn't just about his past. Rage was hiding something... something dangerous.Elena's eyes widened as she pulled back from the memory, her breath quickening. "The Syndicate..." she whispered, the pieces beginning to fall into place. "They're planning something. Something involving the Nexus... and the tournament."Rage's eyes flickered with recognition, but he remained silent, his jaw clenched. Elena knew she was close, but Rage had already begun to rebuild his mental defenses, his mind hardening like a fortress."You won't win," he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and threatening. "You have no idea what's coming."Elena took a step back, her calm demeanor returning. She had learned enough, for now. "We'll see about that," she said, her voice firm. "This isn't over, Rage."She withdrew from his mind, the room around them snapping back into focus. Rage slumped in his chair, his body tense and his mind reeling from the intrusion. But his eyes burned with a dangerous fire, a silent promise that this was far from the end.Elena turned to leave, her thoughts racing as she processed what she had uncovered. The Syndicate was planning something, something far bigger than they had anticipated. And the tournament was at the heart of it.As she stepped out of the interrogation room, Elena's face was set in stone. She had a mission now—to unravel the Syndicate's plans before it was too late. And she knew exactly where to start.The tournament had just become a lot more dangerous.