The crowd thickened the closer I got to the Rift site.
Ropes and barriers surrounded the main perimeter, guarded loosely by a mix of military presence and civilian volunteers. They didn't stop anyone from entering—how could they? The system didn't need human regulation.
'Or not yet'
Over the heads of the crowd, I saw the familiar red shimmer in the ground. The Crimson Rift pulsed faintly like a bleeding wound, the tear in space itself yawning in absolute silence.
And just like always, people were gathered here. Selling, watching, recording.
A giant monitor played real-time feeds from drones or synced Challenger cams—those who were willing to sell their footage. Live commentaries blared out, showing progress on lower floors. third floor. fourth floors. A couple of teams on the fifth trying to clear it, but not the sixth yet.
Still, a few heads turned. Some people whispered. A camera panned my way briefly before jerking toward a more animated group of low-rank Challengers.
