The Hall of the Thirty-Two
The thirty-two Harvesters, a diverse and battle-worn assembly of survivors, were led off the obsidian stage by silent, robed attendants. They were guided through a set of towering arched doors into a waiting room so gargantuan it defied simple description.
George's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he felt his jaw nearly hit the polished floor as the sheer scale of the luxury hit him.
After the claustrophobic dampness of the cave and the sterile cold of the Factory, the room felt like a dream. "Incredible!" George breathed, his voice echoing against the high, vaulted ceiling. "Can you believe it, Nana? This is just the waiting room? It's got a full-scale gym, a food bar overflowing with everything you could think of, a nursing station staffed by actual healing mages... there's even an entertainment room with those glowing holographic games! Showers, a spa—I've never seen a room so big in my life!"
Nana's eyes sparkled, the haunted look from the forest finally beginning to fade under the warm, ambient light of the hall. She nodded vigorously, a small, genuine smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, this is absolutely incredible! I can't believe this is where they're keeping us. It's a bit different from sleeping on stone, isn't it?"
Even Kayn looked impressed, though he kept his guard up, his eyes scanning the food bar with hungry intensity. The three friends began to settle in, taking a moment to indulge in their much-deserved break.
They savored magically conjured snacks that tasted of fresh fruit and rich pastries, the flavors a sudden, violent contrast to the bland roots they had survived on for days. They marveled at the amenities, the tension in their muscles finally beginning to loosen as they realized they were, for the moment, safe.
However, the luxury was merely a velvet glove over a steel fist. Just as the group began to truly relax, the resonant, amplified voice of Grandmaster Gold-crest echoed throughout the massive hall, stirring every Harvester from their brief respite.
"To all our Harvesters," the voice boomed, turning the air heavy with a familiar authority. "It is now time for the Tournament of Recognition to begin! The eyes of the nations are upon you. When the signal chimes, check your Tele-stones. The names of the first two contestants will be displayed momentarily."
The room, which had been filled with the clatter of plates and relieved chatter, fell into a sudden, pin-drop silence. George felt his heart skip a beat as he reached for the glowing stone at his belt. The transition was over; the game was back on.