As the Stronghold team gathered in the break room, the atmosphere was charged with excitement and relief. The first round had been brutal, and exhaustion weighed heavily on each of them, but the fact that they'd all made it through was enough to lift their spirits. John and Alex were in the middle of a lively conversation, recounting their matches with unfiltered enthusiasm, while Isabel and Victor leaned back, exchanging sly grins.But Gordon sat on the edge of the room, his expression stormy as he stared into his water bottle, clenching it tightly enough to make the plastic crinkle. Despite his win, a dark cloud hung over him.John was the first to bring it up, glancing in Gordon's direction with a mischievous smirk. "So, Gordon, you wanna fill us in on that match with Abbot? I mean, you won and all, but man, it ended in the weirdest way."Gordon's gaze shot up, his scowl deepening. "Nothing to talk about, John," he muttered, his tone laced with irritation. He turned back to his water bottle, trying to hide the frustration that bubbled beneath the surface."C'mon, Gordon!" Alex chimed in, his voice lighthearted. "We're all friends here. No shame in admitting that Abbot was...a little strange, huh?""Strange doesn't even begin to cover it," Isabel added, folding her arms as she leaned against the wall. "One minute you're pummeling the guy, and then the next, he's laughing like a maniac and forfeiting out of nowhere?"Victor, with his usual enthusiasm, nodded eagerly. "Exactly! I mean, he looked like he could have ended the match right then. But instead, he just...gave up? I don't get it."Gordon's jaw tightened as he felt all eyes on him. He wasn't about to admit that, for a moment, he'd been on the verge of collapse. He couldn't bear the idea that everyone thought his victory was nothing more than a mercy handout. Especially not when his pride had been counting on a decisive win."There's nothing to get," Gordon snapped, his tone defensive. "I had the upper hand the entire time. The guy just didn't know how to handle me, so he quit."John raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Really? Because from where I was sitting, he looked ready to crush you before he just...walked off. What did he say to you?"Gordon's scowl deepened. The memory of Abbot's cryptic words echoed in his mind, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. You could be... it. He couldn't shake the unease those words stirred within him, but he wasn't about to reveal that. Not to anyone."Nothing worth repeating," he said tersely, his voice a clear indication that he wanted to drop the subject. "The guy was just trying to get in my head. That's all."A silence fell over the room as his teammates exchanged glances, sensing his wounded pride. Alex, ever the diplomat, tried to shift the conversation to ease the tension. "Well, whatever happened, you still made it through, right? That's what counts in the end."Gordon gave a curt nod, though his expression remained stormy. "Yeah. Guess so."Isabel sighed, her voice softening a bit. "Look, we're not doubting your strength, Gordon. But you have to admit, Veilstead's fighters...there's something off about them.""Agreed," John added, his usual sarcasm momentarily replaced with curiosity. "Like, Abbot wasn't just fighting you. He looked like he was observing you, almost...studying you."Gordon shifted uncomfortably, the words striking too close to the truth. He didn't want to acknowledge it, but they were right—Abbot's gaze, the chilling laugh, that strange whisper... It felt as if the match had been some kind of twisted test. But admitting that would mean admitting vulnerability, and Gordon refused to show any weakness."Whatever," Gordon muttered, brushing off their comments. "He's probably just another mind game freak. I handled it. Let's just focus on the next round."Sensing that pressing further wouldn't be wise, the group fell into a more subdued discussion, each of them speculating about the upcoming rounds and what strategies they might need to face the stronger contenders. The mystery surrounding Gordon's match lingered in the back of their minds, but they respected his desire to move on.As the conversation shifted, Victor clapped Gordon on the shoulder, grinning. "Well, mysterious or not, you still made it. That's what matters. Let's stick together and keep pushing forward."Gordon managed a half-smile, the weight of his pride settling just a bit. "Yeah. Next round's going to be different. I'll make sure of it."Despite the tension that had surfaced, the team left the room feeling a renewed sense of determination. For better or worse, they'd all made it through the first round, and while the strange interaction with Abbot left a lingering unease, they knew that their focus had to be on the battles to come.As they made their way out, John caught Gordon's eye, a slight smirk on his face. "Next time, maybe try not to scare the guy off, huh?"Gordon snorted, rolling his eyes. "Whatever, John. Next time, I'll make sure no one questions who's stronger."And with that, they each turned their attention forward, the mystery of Abbot's forfeiture settling into the back of their minds—for now. But as they headed into the night, Gordon couldn't shake the lingering echo of Abbot's chilling whisper, a reminder that there were forces at play beyond simple competition. Forces that might have their sights set on him.