Welcome back to The Real Alphas of Nyros.
Renwick Lunaris just bled for the table. Meanwhile, forty-seven Alphas were now staring at the map like siblings watching their new stepdad sit in dad's chair at Thanksgiving.
Nobody said anything. Everybody had thoughts.
WHOOSH.
The map responded. Lunaris territory lit up with a healthy glow.
Immediately, Darwin and Ironmaw shared a look that translated to "stepdad's dick is smaller than dad's." While ten other Alphas gave a knowing, satisfied nod because stepdad couldn't throw a football as far as dad could.
The map said mid-tier. Renwick's face said "I don't work for the map. The map works for me."
The room got the message so hard it almost left a bruise.
One by one, the Alphas followed. Blood. Token. Slot.
The ritual was faster this time but the dick measuring remained intact. It had all the ceremony of a toll booth and all the tension of a locker room. Nobody said a word. Everybody was keeping score.
