The screen flickered.
*00:10… 00:09… 00:08…*
The countdown set the air into a frozen stillness, hearts ticking alongside it. Then—
*00:00*
The lights across the grand hall went off with a sharp buzz. Gasps filled the darkness, but no panic — they had been warned.
A few seconds later, a soft, dimmed *glitter light* swirled across the ceiling like faint constellations, casting ghostly reflections across everyone's faces. Then:
*DING.*
The first point trigger.
A soft *spotlight* dropped onto *Ria*, illuminating her desk and her expression. Calm. Determined. Her heart raced — but she refused to let it show.
"I'm Ria," she said, her voice carrying firm through the speakers, "here on Jeju Island for this debate, and as the leader of this group and Celestrix… I volunteer to give the first point—"
"*Leader of this group?*"
Nathan's voice cut in from the side, smooth and unbothered.
Another light snapped onto *Nathan*, catching his half-lidded eyes .
Ria blinked, then chuckled awkwardly. "Ha… slip of my tongue. As a *participant* of this group, I volunteer to give the first point."
A soft wave of chuckles rolled through the crowd. Even Viki across the room tilted her head and smirked, tapping her finger on the table like she'd seen enough already.Then, the second spotlight faded, leaving just Ria's again.
The *timer began: 2:00* minutes.
She stood.
"The topic — *'Silence can be justified in pursuit of power'*. Supporting this feels like embracing mischief. But let's be honest... humans are selfish. No matter how kind or nice you *think* you are, you'll eventually face a situation where your survival — your desire — comes first.
In pursuit of power, people lie. Cheat. Even kill. But power *isn't* always about corruption. Sometimes, it's about survival. Safety. Freedom."
Her gaze swept across the audience. Some leaned forward. Others shifted, uncomfortable.
"This world? It's full of evil. And life is too short to play nice. Sometimes silence is the *only* weapon you have. It's not cowardice — it's strategy."
*BUZZ.*
Her light went out.
*Group A: 10%*
Soft claps followed — hesitant but thoughtful. Then—
*Takumi's table buzzed.*
His pen stopped spinning as the soft glow highlighted him. He stood, adjusting his glasses before speaking in a slow, deliberate voice.
"Ria, was it? So you're saying we should *turn a blind eye* in pursuit of power? That silence — while the world bleeds — is justifiable?" His tone was polite, but sharp, his words echoing like darts in the hall."Should we ignore the cries of victims, the blood on powerful hands — all for personal gain? Is that what we're teaching here?"
*DING.*
Ria's table buzzed again. She stood as the light shone on her once more — now the debate had begun.
"I would say," she began, slower now, "that speaking out doesn't always save lives. Shouting into a storm doesn't stop the pain.
"Even if we raise our voices against evil, that doesn't guarantee a million lives will be saved. Not even one. Sometimes, choosing silence isn't ignorance — it's focus. It's clarity. You stay quiet, not because you're weak, but because you *know what you want*, and what risks you're not ready to take."
The room was quiet.
That kind of silence was heavy — a tension not born of boredom, but the weight of self-reflection. Even the judges exchanged looks.
Takumi stared at her for a moment… then smiled faintly as his light blinked off.
*Group A: 16%*
*Group B: 4%*
Viki raised an eyebrow and leaned slightly forward. Kaze, seated beside her, didn't look impressed. But he was watching Nao now… and she was quiet.
Still.
Too still.
Nathan Table buzzed.
Everyone surprised looked to his direction.
Nathan didn't move. His posture was relaxed, but the room was on edge. He stared down his own table, voice low but clear enough to slice through the noise.
"Takumi, your point was intense regardless of your actions."
The air *snapped*.
Gasps rippled. Someone choked on their drink. The crowd stirred like a beast shifting in its cage.
"Is he serious right now?"
The whispers cracked like static.
Nao's eyes widened. Her heart raced. Her chest tightened.
Nathan lifted his head slowly, finally meeting the audience's gaze with a cold, unreadable stare.
"But that's the problem, isn't it?" he said, voice heavier now. "We're too quick to put people in boxes, define their actions with labels, pick sides like it's war. Silence is seen as guilt. Words are seen as truth. But sometimes, both lie."
He leaned back in his seat.
"Someone kills, someone stays silent. You want to assign blame like it's clean. It's not. It never is. Silence isn't always cowardice. Sometimes… it's the sound of survival."
*Group A: 25%*A pause. Viki's smirk deepened.
"Indeed," she said coolly, standing without her light buzzing. The system hesitated—then blinked on her. Her presence overrode the protocol like it *knew* to obey her.
"You see," she continued, turning her gaze sharply to Nao, "things only fall apart when people forget their place. Whether it's a traitor pretending to be a hero, or a victim dressing as a savior. We all want redemption, but not all of us deserve it."
A murmur of *"Oh shit…"* passed through the crowd.
Ria flinched slightly. Nao sat frozen.
"And that's why," Viki added with a slow smile, "I help people remember their place. Because they always forget—until it's too late."
*Group B: 18%*
The scoreboard teetered like a tightrope.
The tension was now visible—etched into clenched jaws, restless legs, and darting eyes across the room.
Mrs. Marion looked up from her tablet, lips pressed in a line.
*Nao's hand trembled under the table.*
But her finger slowly rose… hovering over her buzzer.
A choice.
A war.
And the whole school was watching.
---
*Nao's light buzzes on.*
She stands slowly, still a little pale, but her voice steady.
"To be honest, I didn't want to speak… because I thought silence was safer. But I realized something."
She looks ahead, not at anyone in particular—just through the weight of the moment.
"Viki said… silence when someone dies and you benefit from it is cowardice. Maybe it is. But what if the person who *spoke up*… ended up destroying more than just themselves? What if speaking up didn't save a life—but cost ten more?"
A pause.
"Sometimes people stay silent not because they don't care—but because they carry the kind of guilt that claws at them every day. And that silence isn't peace—it's a punishment."
She turns, facing the crowd.
"Power doesn't always come from using your voice… sometimes it comes from learning when to use it. Or if it's even yours to use. And if silence is a prison... then people like Viki are the wardens, deciding who deserves to speak or stay caged."
She turns to Viki directly now, eyes sharp."You say you help people find their place. But what you really mean… is *you decide* where people belong. That's not power. That's control. And the difference between the two? Power builds. Control breaks."
*Buzz.*
Her light fades out.
*Group A: 32%*
Gasps and murmurs echo.
Nathan turns to her, unreadable.
Viki's smirk doesn't disappear—but it *twitches*.
The tension just exploded.
---