[Ray's POV]
I splayed the rings across the fingers of my left hand, feeling their slight, balanced weight. I didn't aim. I didn't tense. My eyes swept over the wall of bottles, mapping each slender neck in an instant.
My body relaxed, and with a single, fluid flick of my wrist, the rings flew—a whirling constellation of dark wood against the lantern light.
To the others, it might have looked like one impossible toss. But for me, it was ten separate, simultaneous decisions, executed in a heartbeat. Each ring carried a slight, intentional variation in its spin—a micro-adjustment made at the moment of release.
The result was a series of soft, percussive sounds—a rapid, satisfying cadence of clinks and thunks as wood met glass.
Every ring settled neatly around a separate bottle neck. Not one bounced. Not one wobbled. It was a clean, complete victory, executed with the silent finality of a checkmate.
Silence.
