The clean, almost effortless victory in the Team Trials was already behind them, but it hadn't given Nathan any real sense of relief. As the sun came up over the host city, casting a harsh silver light through the windows of their team quarters, the stakes only felt higher.
The chaotic, mixed-group scramble of the previous round was over. Now, they were stepping into the main bracket of the National Battles, where their own unit—the exact group of friends and summons that had survived the Cleansing—would finally take the field together under the eyes of millions.
Nathan stood in front of the wall display, studying the match-up bracket. Thirty-two teams representing sixteen nations. Single elimination. One bad read, one missed call, and they were going home.
Their first matchup was locked in against the West Isles. On paper, they were a minor team from a smaller island nation, barely making the news reels compared to powerhouses like the Eastern Dominion.
