If I threw up inside my new multi-million dollar thermal suit, would Vikram bill me for the cleaning?
"Stop fidgeting," Riya hissed, adjusting the collar of her own tactical suit. "You look like you're smuggling ferrets."
"I can't help it," I whispered back. "Listen to that noise."
We were standing in the entry tunnel of the National Hunter Stadium. It was a massive, dome-shaped structure built from reinforced concrete and spell-woven glass, designed to contain Class-A magical discharges. It seated eighty thousand people.
And right now, every single one of them was screaming.
The roar of the crowd vibrated through the floor tiles and up my spine. Giant holographic screens floated above the stands, displaying highlights of previous tournaments.
"Eighty thousand people," I mumbled. "If I trip, it's going to be on YouTube forever."
"You won't trip," Vikram said, walking to the front of our line. He looked immaculate in the black-and-orange Astra team uniform. He didn't look nervous; he looked like he owned the building. "You are wearing the best gear money can buy. You have been trained by the best Ace in the country. Just follow the plan."
"Right. The plan. Don't die. Got it."
A production assistant with a headset ran up to us, looking stressed.
"Team Astra! You're up in thirty seconds! Remember, walk straight to the center podium, wave to the cameras, do not engage with the audience."
Vikram nodded curtly. "We know the drill."
The massive blast doors at the end of the tunnel began to slowly grind open. White light poured in, along with a wall of sound.
An announcer's voice boomed over the stadium speakers, amplified to god-like volumes.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME TO THE 25TH ANNUAL ROOKIE WARS!"
The crowd erupted.
"INTRODUCING OUR FIRST TEAM! AFTER A TEN-YEAR ABSENCE, THEY ARE BACK WITH A VENGEANCE! SPONSORED BY ASTRA-TECH... GIVE IT UP FOR TEAM XAVIER'S!"
"That's our cue," Vikram said. "Look sharp."
He strode out into the light. Riya followed, cool as ice. I took a deep breath and stepped out behind them.
It was blinding. Thousands of camera flashes went off at once. The heat from the crowd was intense. The Jumbotron showed our faces—Vikram looking stoic, Riya looking bored, and me looking like a deer caught in headlights.
We walked to the center grass field. Other teams were already there, lined up in neat rows. There were teams in traditional martial arts gi, teams in sleek futuristic armor, and one team that looked like they were dressed for a heavy metal concert.
Vikram stopped at our designated spot. He ignored the cameras and turned to face the team standing next to us.
They were dressed in pristine white uniforms with gold trim. Their emblem was a roaring lion head.
St. Lionheart Academy. The reigning champions for five years running.
Their captain stood at the front. She was about Vikram's height, with posture so straight it looked painful. She had pale blonde hair cut in a sharp bob and eyes the color of frozen lakes.
Isha, the Ice Queen.
She didn't even look at us. She was staring straight ahead, as if we were beneath her notice.
Vikram didn't like being ignored.
"Nice uniforms, Isha," Vikram said, his voice smooth but loud enough for her to hear over the crowd. "Did your grandmother knit them for you?"
Isha slowly turned her head. Her expression didn't change. It was a mask of absolute indifference.
"Vikram Malhotra," she said. Her voice was quiet, but somehow it cut through the stadium noise. It was cold. "I see your father finally bought you a team so you could play pretend hero."
Riya bristled slightly next to me. Vikram's smile tightened.
"We earned our spot in the qualifiers," Vikram retorted.
"Did you?" Isha's gaze shifted past him and landed directly on me.
I froze. It felt like she had just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. The temperature around us actually seemed to drop five degrees. My breath fogged up in the air.
"And this must be the stray dog you picked up," she said, looking at my left wrist where the Chakra was hidden under a glamour. "I've watched the tapes. Sloppy. Raw power with zero discipline. You rely on collateral damage to win."
"Hey," I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. "It worked, didn't it?"
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "In the real world, boy, sloppy gets people killed. In this arena, it just gets you embarrassed."
She turned back to face the front, dismissing us completely.
"Enjoy the opening ceremony, Team Astra. Try not to trip on your way out of the qualifiers."
Vikram looked like he was about to summon a weapon right there on the grass.
"Save it," Riya whispered, grabbing his arm. "Cameras."
Vikram took a deep breath and smoothed his uniform.
"She's going to regret that," he whispered, his eyes burning.
I looked at Isha's back. I could still feel the chill radiating off her.
Vikram was right about one thing. Agni wasn't going to work on her. She was too cold, too controlled.
I clenched my left fist. I could feel the heavy, slow pulse of Prithvi sleeping inside the bracelet.
I hope you're ready to wake up soon, buddy, I thought. Because I think we're going to need a mountain to stop her.
"AND NOW," the announcer boomed. "LET THE GAMES BEGIN!"
Fireworks exploded over the stadium, signaling the start of the violence.