Ztheu was an artificially powered dimension, built and maintained with its own set of rules. Everything in it was intentional. Every terrain, every shift in weather, every danger placed with a purpose. The goal was simple. Make the Paragon Battle Royal as brutal as possible for every participant.
The land stretched wide, easily the size of a country. No single environment defined it. One side froze under heavy snow and biting cold. Another breathed with thick forests and wet green lands. Somewhere else, the ground cracked dry under harsh heat, trees thin and lifeless. It was a world stitched together from extremes, each zone testing something different.
And inside it, fights were already breaking out everywhere.
Clans clashed the moment they crossed paths. No hesitation. No mercy. One group pushing forward, the other trying to hold ground, until someone broke. Techniques collided mid-air. Magic burst out in flashes of light. Steel met flesh. Fists met bone. Every second carried risk.
Screams echoed through parts of the land where battles had turned ugly. Some were short. Cut off too fast. Others dragged on, filled with anger and desperation. You could tell the difference if you listened closely.
The number of participants was already dropping.
Every fight ended the same way. Someone removed. Someone left behind.
As the weaker ones disappeared, the balance shifted. What remained were the ones who could actually fight. The ones who knew how to survive. And that only made things worse. Because now, every clash carried more weight. More danger. Stronger opponents. Harder battles.
Still, not everyone rushed into the chaos.
Some clans understood the situation early. They knew they couldn't win head-on fights, not yet. So they adapted. They stayed hidden. They moved carefully. Not out of fear, but strategy. Wait. Watch. Strike later.
It was a smart move. Not flashy, but effective.
Among all the clans, one stood out for this approach.
The Synapse Circle.
While others fought and burned through their strength, they stayed quiet.
Currently, in one of the wetlands thick with trees, a sharp-framed young man with a low cut stood pinned against a tree, his feet barely touching the ground. No, not stood. Held. Lifted by his neck like it meant nothing.
His fingers clawed at the hand gripping him, but it didn't move.
The one holding him was a young woman.
Snow-white hair, tied back clean and tight. Not a strand out of place. It gave her a cold look. Controlled. Dangerous. The kind of look that told you she didn't lose control often… but when she did, someone paid for it.
Her height was average, but the way she stood made her feel taller. Heavier. Like the air around her had weight.
And right now, that weight was all on him.
Her eyes burned. Sharp. Focused. Angry. There was no hiding it. Even her cheeks carried a faint red tint, though whether from anger or something else, only she knew.
Her name was Rhyssa Valdeiro.
The boy struggling in her grip was Eric Valdeiro.
Same family. Same clan. Both core members of the Synapse Circle.
Right now, none of that mattered.
"Come on, Rhyssa… this is embarrassing," Eric forced out, his voice strained as his throat tightened under her grip. "What do you think will happen if other clans see us like this… fighting each other…?"
His words started strong, but halfway through, they broke.
Her fingers tightened.
His voice dropped into a choke.
Air stopped coming in properly.
"It appears," Rhyssa said slowly, her voice calm but heavy, "that what comes out of your mouth has no limit, does it?"
She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.
It pressed down on him harder than the grip on his throat.
"You talked a lot of nonsense earlier," she continued, her eyes locking into his. "Back then, Caelan and Maelis were there to save you."
A small smirk formed on her lips.
Cold. Sharp.
"But now?" she said. "You got paired with me instead."
Eric's eyes shifted slightly.
That hit.
"What… is this about what I said about that boy…?" Eric tried again, forcing the words out, but the moment he spoke, her grip tightened once more.
His sentence cut off.
Again.
No warning. No patience.
Rhyssa wasn't here to talk things out.
Eric and Rhyssa had a problem. That much was clear. And right now, alone in the wetlands, no allies, no witnesses that mattered, Rhyssa had decided something simple.
After a few moments, Rhyssa finally let go.
Eric dropped.
His feet hit the ground first, but his body followed slow, like it needed a second to remember how to stand. He bent forward slightly, coughing once as air rushed back into his lungs.
His hand went straight to his neck.
Red marks. Clear finger imprints. The skin still stung under his touch, the pressure from earlier not fully gone.
"You know," Eric said after catching his breath, his voice rough but steady, "acting like this only proves what I said."
Bad timing.
Very bad timing.
Rhyssa's face tightened instantly. The calm she held before cracked, and anger rushed back in, hotter this time.
"You really don't know when to stop, do you?" she asked.
Her stance shifted. Subtle, but clear. She was ready again.
Eric noticed.
"Okay… okay," he said quickly, raising one hand slightly, stepping back. "I'll stop. I'll let you be."
He didn't sound scared. But he wasn't pushing it either.
For a brief moment, both of them stood still.
Tension hung between them. Thick. Unmoving.
Then—
A screen flashed in front of them.
Clean. Sharp. Not from the tournament.
[Estimated time to join the fight has been reached. All participants are advised to split up.]
Both of them saw it.
Both of them understood immediately.
This wasn't from the wristband.
This was from their system. The Synapse Circle system.
Rhyssa's eyes stayed on the message for a second longer before it disappeared.
Then she looked at Eric.
"You know," she said, her tone calmer now but still carrying weight, "one thing I might actually like about this system's calculation…"
A small pause.
"It says we should split up."
Her lips curved slightly.
Not a smile. Not really.
"Because I might end up killing you."
Straight. No decoration.
Eric let out a quiet sigh.
No reaction beyond that.
Then his expression changed. The earlier tension faded. What replaced it was focus.
"I'll head deeper into the forest," Eric said.
No hesitation.
He lifted his hand and pointed off to the side, where the trees thickened and the ground darkened further in.
"And you can head toward the mountains."
In the distance, past the stretch of wetland and rising above the tree line, a mountain stood. Clear enough to see. Far enough to matter.
The path was set.
Rhyssa turned and followed the direction Eric had pointed. Her eyes landed on the mountain in the distance. Tall. Quiet. Watching everything from afar. She didn't argue with the choice. Not because she agreed with him… but because it made sense.
"I don't know why," Eric said from behind her, his tone carrying that usual careless edge, "but I have a feeling that your boyfriend might be there."
That did it.
Rhyssa's face flushed red instantly.
She spun around, fast, ready to strike again, her hand already lifting—
But Eric was gone.
Already moving.
He had turned and bolted into the forest without waiting. No hesitation. No second look. Just straight into the trees like he knew exactly how much time he had left before she reacted.
Rhyssa stood there for a second, watching his back disappear into the thick bushes.
"Sigh…!" she let out sharply, more annoyed than tired.
Then she turned back toward the mountain.
Her expression changed. The anger settled. What remained was focus.
Determination.
Without wasting another second, she moved.
She sprinted forward, her body cutting through the wetland with speed and control. Her steps were light, precise. She pushed off the ground, landing on a tree branch, then another, moving across them with clean, controlled jumps before dropping back down to the ground without losing momentum.
Her movement was smooth. Practiced.
But it didn't last.
Out of nowhere— boom!
Something crashed into her.
Hard.
The impact hit her from the side, sudden and fast, enough to throw her balance off instantly. Her body tilted, her footing slipping for a split second.
But she reacted just as fast.
Her body twisted at an almost impossible angle, shifting her weight mid-motion. She adjusted. Stabilized. Regained control before she could fall.
Clean recovery.
Whoever hit her didn't have that same control.
The figure was sent flying back, hitting the ground and skidding across it, dirt and leaves dragging under their body before they finally came to a stop.
Rhyssa straightened.
Her eyes locked onto the figure immediately.
'Who is that?' she thought.
Her system reacted before she moved.
The interface flickered into place, scanning, analyzing, locking onto the target in front of her.
A brief pause.
Then—
[Identification: A member of the Wyndham faction.]
[Priority: Must be Eliminated]
The words appeared clean and direct in her vision.
No extra detail. No hesitation.
Just a command.
On the other side, the boy pushed himself up slightly, lifting his head.
Young. Around late teens. Maybe early twenties.
His eyes met hers.
For a moment, both of them froze.
Then—
'Shit… shit… shit…' the boy screamed inwardly, panic hitting him all at once.
'Why… why me…? Of all people… I ran into someone from the Synapse Circle…?'
Isla's thoughts raced, his chest tightening as reality settled in.