James’s tone shifted, his eyes scanning the group with a mix of authority and resolve. “A tournament will be held next week. Prepare yourself for that. I will not be training you during this time, so do what you wish until the day comes.”

  The announcement ignited a spark of energy among the Awakened, their previous fear momentarily overshadowed by curiosity and determination. A tournament? It was an opportunity—a chance to showcase their skills and fight for their lives.

  “Wait, what kind of tournament?” Flint asked, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice despite the earlier tension.

  James crossed his arms, a faint smirk forming on his lips. “A competition to determine the strongest among you. The top three will be selected to join the front lines, while the rest will face the consequences of their performance.”

  Shift’s eyes widened, and he exchanged a glance with Vera, who was now wearing an expression of unyielding determination. “This is our chance to prove ourselves,” she said, her voice unwavering. “We can’t rely on anyone else. It’s every one of us for ourselves.”

  “Right!” Flint replied, his confidence reignited. “We’ll show them what we’re made of! No more holding back!”

  433 remained silent, his mind racing as he processed the news. This tournament could be their lifeline—or their end. He felt a twinge of resolve, an urge to push beyond his limits. But could he truly compete with the others?

  As the group started to buzz with chatter, making plans for their individual training, 433 felt a strange mix of determination and isolation. This wasn’t about teamwork; it was about survival, and he sensed the underlying tension among the Awakened. No one was going to hold hands and cheer each other on—they all wanted to come out on top.

  “Listen up!” Vera called, her voice slicing through the noise. “We’re all in this for ourselves. Train hard, and don’t expect anyone to back you up. You have to earn your spot.”

  Flint nodded, his enthusiasm now tinged with a competitive edge. “Yeah, don’t get too comfortable. If you’re weak, you’ll be left behind.”

  433 hesitated, the urge to distance himself creeping back. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to be part of this—part of something bigger. Slowly, he nodded, acknowledging the harsh reality of their situation.

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  With a renewed sense of purpose, the group began to disperse, each child filled with a mix of apprehension and determination as they prepared for the challenges that lay ahead. 433 lingered for a moment, staring at the training equipment scattered around the room. This tournament was their chance—his chance—to prove himself and carve out his place among the Awakened. He would have to fight, not just for survival but to discover who he indeed was.

  As he walked away, he couldn’t help but wonder: in a place where loyalty was a weakness, would he have what it took to rise above the rest?

  ***

  The atmosphere in the dinner area was tense, filled with an unspoken rivalry that hung heavy in the air. Each Awakened child sat apart from one another, their faces a mixture of determination and apprehension. The clatter of utensils echoed like the sound of distant thunder, punctuating the silence that loomed over the long tables. 433 could feel the weight of their collective anticipation, a reminder that the upcoming tournament would determine their fates.

  No one dared to initiate a conversation; the previous camaraderie had evaporated like mist in the morning sun. Instead, glances were exchanged—quick, calculating assessments of each other’s strengths and weaknesses. 433 observed the hardened expressions of his peers, each of them lost in their thoughts, mentally preparing for the battles ahead. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching a pack of wolves, each waiting for the right moment to pounce.

  As he picked at his food, 433 thought back to the fleeting moments of connection they had shared. Now, they were nothing but a distant memory, overshadowed by the looming tournament. The once vibrant discussions about training and powers had been replaced by a cold silence, as if everyone had drawn an invisible line in the sand, signaling that they were no longer allies but competitors.

  Flint sat a few seats away, his jaw set and eyes narrowed. He occasionally glanced at Vera, who was similarly focused, her expression unreadable. Shift sat near the end of the table, fiddling with his food, his usual shyness amplified by the charged atmosphere. Mira was in a corner, her demeanor subdued, seemingly shrinking away from the intensity that surrounded them.

  433 felt a pang of isolation wash over him. He had never been close to anyone, but the starkness of the situation hit harder than he expected. It wasn’t just about the tournament—it was the realization that in this new world, bonds were liabilities, and vulnerability was a path to destruction.

  As he swallowed the last bite of his meal, 433 decided he needed to focus. The tournament would require more than just strength; it would demand strategy and cunning. He had to figure out his abilities, whatever they might be, and prepare himself to stand against the others. The thought of being left behind, of being seen as weak, propelled him forward.

  Dinner came to a close with no words exchanged, just the sound of chairs scraping against the floor as each person rose and filed out, leaving the room in silence. 433 lingered for a moment, taking one last look at the empty table before following suit, his mind racing with thoughts of the battles to come. In the face of uncertainty, he resolved not just to survive but to emerge stronger, ready to confront whatever challenges lay ahead.

  ***

  “Who do you think will make it out, Boss?” James asked during the meeting before the tournament, his fingers tapping nervously on the table.

  The Boss leaned back in his chair, a sly smile creeping onto his face. “Tch, Vera, Flint, and Shift look like the most promising candidates. They’ve shown remarkable progress.”

  James nodded, but a frown creased his forehead. “What about the boy—the one who was left at our door fifteen years ago? He still hasn’t shown any signs of having powers.”

  The Boss raised an eyebrow, contemplating. “True, but his physical abilities are impressive. He matches and even surpasses some of his peers in strength and agility. What was he called?”

  James scratched his chin, “The Awakened didn’t name him. They all refer to him as 433. It seems fitting, doesn’t it? A number without significance.”