The vehicle moved forward without making a sound, as if afraid of waking the night itself.
A Devanador of the Order, his red tunic falling to his ankles, extended his arm and plunged his hand into a round socket on the panel. I heard the dry click of his fingers locking inside. His forehead lit up — a hard, oppressive white — and something inside me shrank before I even understood why.
The Chi flowed down from that glow, slithering along his arm like choking light, sinking into the machine. The vehicle reacted at once, pulled forward by that energy. His Chi — dragging all of us ahead.
Another Devanador held the wheel, guiding us through the paths between the black trees that guarded the border.
I only watched.
Ahead, the White State appeared — enormous, pale, raised like a pyramid made of lime and silence. Bluish torches flickered along the edges of the walls, and their light seemed trapped within the flame.
Trapped.
Like everything here.
Too beautiful.
Too quiet.
Too cruel.
I got down with the other defeated ones. The hood covered half my face, but it didn't hide the weariness that insists on living in my shoulders. Every step dragged, as if I were carrying all the States on my back — and, honestly, sometimes it feels like I am.
I thought of only one thing: leaving this place.
A Sentinel approached me with that ritualistic precision they have — as if every movement were being watched by someone invisible, ready to judge. He gripped my forearm with more force than a "gentle" gesture required.
— Calm down, young one — he said, in a tranquil voice that matched nothing there. — I'll remove the shackles for the ritual.
The jingle of keys sounded like metal teeth biting the air.
I kept my gaze low.
Silence always helps survival.
— There's no way to participate with bound hands — the Sentinel concluded.
The click of the shackles opening didn't bring freedom.
It brought sentence.
Beside me, a defeated man murmured something, as if praying to the void:
— I don't want to lose my Chi… please… please…
I didn't look. If I looked, I'd break with him.
We were pushed toward the center. There, a victor awaited us — fists closed near his chest, head bowed. His Chi spilled from his body in a liquid state, white and translucent, bubbling like boiling water about to overflow.
My skin prickled.
A warning.
A this is wrong.
— They call this glory? — I murmured. — I saw Chi being pulled from him like blood running from an open wound, leaving the man empty, bent.
My stomach turned — the same way it had when I saw Imi cough for the first time, losing something that never comes back.
A pale defeated man, almost transparent, replied in a thread of a voice:
— I've never seen Chi bubble like that… it looks like he's already taken from many…
The victor's Chi wavered constantly. There was something restless there, as if the energy were searching for a way out before tearing him open from the inside.
They called the first defeated one.
He raised his fist — hesitant, small, trembling.
The light trembled with it.
The victor tore the man's Chi away violently, as if breathing liquid straight from his chest. The defeated man's arm gave out; the Chi left him like mist ripped loose by force.
The Sentinel at the side frowned.
I took a step back. I didn't think.
My body retreated on its own.
They called the second.
He barely touched — the Chi was sucked away with a dry snap, brutal, merciless.
The light flickered.
The victor's body vibrated like a flame on the verge of going out.
Fear ran through the group of defeated ones like thick smoke filling everyone's lungs.
— This isn't right — murmured a Sentinel, touching his staff.
The defeated man staggered, breathing as if hollow inside.
Hollow.
Empty.
Erased.
Another defeated man beside me leaned in, barely moving his lips:
— Hey… you. — His voice was just air scraping between teeth. — Do you want to get out of here alive?
I kept looking at the center.
Distraction killed.
— You can't. Too many Sentinels — I murmured, almost soundless.
— You can — he insisted. His tone was urgent, but so low it sounded like thought. — They're too tense. Look at their hands… shaking. Any second someone snaps.
— And that helps… how? — I asked.
He swallowed hard.
— I was told a group's going to start trouble in the north corner. People already marked for elimination. If they run, the Guard focuses on them. We knock down those torches there. — His eyes pointed without turning his head. — Let the smoke fall into the arena. Confusion. No one sees anyone.
I exhaled softly.
— And then?
— Then you run — he whispered, and only then did I notice his voice shaking. — I run.
— And if they catch us?
— Better than becoming a container. — He looked at the victor, Chi boiling. — I don't want to be… drained.
I swallowed my reply.
He wasn't wrong.
The man moved even closer, as if trying to hide inside my shadow:
— Hey. Listen to me. — Now there was fear, but also decision. — You seem… different. The cube rejected you, right? People like that always have a chance.
My shoulder stiffened.
— Don't talk about that — I growled softly. — Not here.
He nodded quickly.
— Then look at me. If you say "yes," I start. If you say "no"… — he drew a trembling breath — then I'll go alone.
I took a deep breath.
I wanted to say "no."
I wanted to say "wait."
I wanted to say anything.
— I…
But the riot began before I finished.
— Now! — the defeated man whispered, vanishing into the smoke.
Shoves.
Shouts.
Bodies colliding, dragging, struggling.
A stray fist struck my shoulder. The pain came fast, dry, like splitting wood. It nearly took me down.
The Sentinels tried to contain the chaos, but the tension that had been building since before we arrived finally exploded — and no one there could hold it back.
At the center, another defeated man was led to the victor.
The light wavered.
The victor's Chi trembled like a cornered animal.
I narrowed my eyes, analyzing, feeling.
— He can't handle more Chi… — I murmured.
At the side, two Sentinels argued with a hooded figure. The man slipped between them like liquid shadow. The shouts grew louder.
— That's it… start fights… — I whispered. — It clears my path.
The third defeated man was shoved forward.
His hand didn't even rise fully.
And then it happened.
The victor's energy snapped.
A white flash tore through the air — dry, cutting, brutal.
He collapsed to the ground, groaning.
The entire square trembled with him.
Screams echoed.
A torch fell — sparks ran across the floor.
The flame climbed the curtain as if it had been waiting for this since the beginning.
The Sentinels ran.
— ORDER! — one of them shouted. — Fall back!
But no one fell back.
No one heard anything but their own fear.
It was the opening I needed.
The smoke thickened.
Swallowed everything.
Swallowed everyone.
I lowered my head and ran between the pillars. Quick, decisive movements.
— Overloaded Chi… or they gave him too much… — I murmured, feeling the sound vibrate in my throat.
A chill ran down my neck.
Something was about to change.
And it did.
A body stumbled in front of me, emerging from the smoke as if spat out by chaos. A man — torn cloak, blood on his mouth, eyes full of panic. He ran like someone trying to escape his own execution.
— Get… get out of the way… — he murmured.
I tried to dodge, but he collided with me with the weight of stone. Something fell from his belt — a dry sound on the ground.
I looked.
A strip of dark cloth.
Not common.
Not normal.
Not from here.
The deep blue stones fastened to the band pulsed — slow, profound, in waves that seemed to come from the bottom of the world. Their light didn't shine.
It sank.
As if it had its own gravity.
I froze.
That didn't belong to the White State.
It belonged to something greater.
More dangerous.
The man saw too late. He tried to grab it, but a Sentinel seized him and dragged him back into the turmoil.
— YOU! Stop there! — the Sentinel shouted, not looking at the band.
The man struggled, desperate:
— MY BAND! MY BAND! —
He didn't stand a chance.
The band remained on the ground.
Pulsing.
Calling.
Breathing.
A forbidden invitation.
The smoke thickened.
The lights trembled.
The ground seemed to tilt — even if only a little.
No one saw.
No one but me.
I knelt slowly. My hand trembled. Not from fear.
From… recognition.
When my fingers touched the fabric, vertigo tore through my vision. The columns around me bent for a second — mere millimeters, but enough to make the world feel like it was breathing to a different rhythm.
Sound grew heavy.
Or delayed.
Or… split.
Space… folded.
The band pulsed in my hand, the air warping around it as if the world were tearing.
I remembered the whispered stories: "It distorts Chi…" — and my pulse quickened, but I didn't let go.
Inside my chest, something burned — a fierce, stubborn, living impulse.
I couldn't be drained there.
I couldn't leave weak.
I couldn't waste time.
Not Chi.
Not anything.
The band pulsed like a heart beating outside the body.
Rhythmic.
Deep.
Summoning.
Another torch fell behind me — a rain of sparks.
— Fall back! — a Sentinel shouted.
No one fell back.
I slipped the band into my pocket — fast, precise, determined.
The stones kept pulsing inside, muffled by the cloth, but alive.
Very alive.
I took a step back.
Then another.
One more.
The smoke swallowed me like a vast mouth, hot and formless.
My heart raced.
The band burned against my thigh — not heat, exactly.
Presence.
Weight.
Destiny.
I breathed deeply, hidden behind the pillars.
— Space… — I whispered. — And now?
I looked at the square collapsing — Sentinels running, fire climbing, the victor unconscious, chaos rising like a merciless tide.
— I think I'm free of this.
I raised my hood, resolved.
And vanished into the dark.
I ran. Toward the Blue State. Toward Imi.