After several moments of hard sobbing and coughing, Isabel slowly began to regain a sliver of control over her trembling body. Her ragged breaths became slightly more regular, though still punctuated by hysterical gasps. With hands that still shook, she wiped her face, trying to scrub away the remnants of her humiliation still wet on her skin.
Then, her eyes began to take in her surroundings.
And she froze. This time, not because of skill, but because of a horror far more profound.
Everything was still.
Absolutely still.
In the distance, participants locked in combat were frozen in bizarre mid-fight poses. One was caught mid-leap, sword raised, but not moving an inch. Another was frozen while unleashing a skill, energy radiating out yet suspended like a statue of light. Even specks of dust from the impacts hung suspended in the air, clearly visible, not falling.
