It was a bit of restless night for Jude; with the rush of the excitement for actually qualifying for the next stage but also for the anticipation for the next stage. He knew that since he was the forty-fourth participant that would mean he would fight someone who completed the tests quicker than himself, the twenty-first fastest one to be exact. His match was the eighth of the day. The order of matches was stated to be random.

The first match however should have been the most even as it was the thirty-second and thirty-third fighters. It was scheduled for two p.m.

He tossed and turned in his bed. As all hotel beds feel on that first night, it was alien. The mattress felt both too hard and too soft at the same time. The pillow did not feel like it had enough stuffing in it and yet it felt as his head sank into it and was surrounded by it. The quilt was not sufficient for the winter night and yet the anticipation for tomorrow kept him warm and in a sweat.

After a fruitless endeavour to fall asleep it was only when he had given up did he realise that it was morning already. He had not experienced a dream. He had blinked and the winter sun had begun to creep through the blinds.

The room was cold now, as he slumped out of bed to find his phone. Seeing the clock at past eight meant that there was breakfast downstairs. So he tried to slink his way towards the rest of the day.

All morning he felt sluggish and sick. Nerves pushed down on him. His throat was tight and felt full to the brim with sick. His breathing felt awkward, he lacked any appetite and the cold bite in the air was far more apparent than to anyone else.

He spent a majority of the morning in his room thinking, planning, and distracting himself. It was there, perched on the edge of his bed, when he got a call, it was from Jack. Jude hesitated and just stared at the call, letting it ring for a few seconds before picking up.

“Hey man, where are you?”

“In my room, why?”

“Well we agreed to go for lunch last night, and we were meant to leave ten minutes ago.”

“Wait, what? Did we?”

“Told you guys he wasn’t listening. Anyways were down in the lobby, you coming or what?”

“Yeah. Just. Just give me a second, okay?”

“Yeah that’s fine man.”

The next few hours seemed to fly by. He still felt the same as he did in the morning, even after two meals and hanging around with his friends. But here he was, where the tower they had faced their trails in last night was meant to be.

Instead the top of the tower had disappeared and all that remained was an arena. A modern one that seemed akin to where comedians or musicians played, or even a sports stadium. But that’s definitely where they were told to go and there were even officials waiting outside to let them in.

Once inside they were lead through to an area just for their team. It was seating so they could watch the fight but also had access to go into the arena when it was their turn.

The one thing Jude wanted from this first match was a drawn out fight, something even. If it was a close fight that would mean that even if he lost it was because he was a lower ranked candidate he wasn’t meant to win.

The two contestants walked out. Jude’s right leg was shaking, he was praying. A small, but quite athletic girl wearing gym clothes, stepped out into the arena. Sand crunched under her feet, the hard stone floor beneath it made light tapping sounds as she stepped. There was a crude ring of red tape place in the centre, she stepped into it and took a breath.

On the opposite side was a hulking mass of muscles of a man. He was nearly as wide as he was tall. It was hard to believe he was a university student. He a pair of black shorts and boots and had no top on. He seemed cocky and got a cheer from his section of the audience, a cheer that he ate up.

The A.I. spoke up.

“This fight between Rebecca Inglis and Joseph Fowler will begin once both parties agree to the rules. Any fatal wounds and you will lose, but you will be teleported to safety and healed. This is thanks to Professor River Bouwmeester of Norfield University. If any part of your body touches the ground outside of the ring, then you will automatically lose. Do both parties understand.”

“Yes”

“Hell yeah.”

“Then commence”

It was over too fast to see. Rebecca bent down, twisted her body, threw some sand, and that was it. Joseph was outside of the ring. He had been teleported due to suffering a fatal wound.

“Rebecca Inglis is the winner and moves into the second round.” The synthetic voice called out.

Jude was in shock. What should have given him hope knowing that not being a higher rank meant you’d lose. But what he’d witnessed was an attack he could not see, never mind counter.

“That was fucking sick.” Jack said. Everyone’s head snapped to him. “What?”

After a brief explanation that he was the only who could see it Jack broke down the process of what happened.

“So she grabbed some sand and threw it at him. Then for a very brief moment the grains of sand extended, you know like a, a... Well like a long stick. And they stabbed him like ten times. And then she shrank them before the rest of you could see, I guess.”