The truth starts settling in layer by ugly layer.
I knew this would be competitive. I’m not stupid. Reckless, yes. Delusional in flashes. But not stupid.
Still, there’s a difference between understanding something abstractly and standing in a room where half the people look bred for impact. Bodies sculpted for power, endurance, speed. Faces set in game mode. Sponsor logos. compression sleeves. taped knuckles. quiet confidence.
This is not a bar fight with better lighting.
This is a machine designed to find the best monsters in the room and feed them a stage.
“Fantastic,” I murmur. “Love those odds for me.”
“Talking to yourself never projects confidence,” says a voice to my left.
I glance over.
A human man has taken the seat beside mine without asking. Dark hair, compact build, expensive athletic shoes, smile like a blade somebody polished for social use.
“You offering a service,” I ask, “or just wandering the terminal dispensing free wisdom?”
He laughs. “Dax.”
“Bron.”
His brows jump in recognition a split second too late to hide. “Wait. You’rethatBron?”
I give him a small, tired bow from the chair. “Occasionally.”
“Hell. My sister had a thing for you in college.”
“Your sister has exquisite taste.”
He grins. “You actually doing this, or are you here to perform at the send-off?”
I rest the guitar case against my knee. “I contain multitudes.”
“That sounds like yes.”
“It sounds like none of your business, Dax.”
That makes him laugh again, and I like him slightly less for how easy he is. Easy people often mistake that for safety.
He nods toward the room. “Some serious competition this season.”
“No kidding.”
“You worried?”
I look out across the lounge. A woman shadowboxes near the boarding gate. A Khepri contestant does something with his shoulders that suggests bone configurations I don’t even want to contemplate. The scarred older guy I clocked earlier is balancing on one foot with his eyes closed, like his nervous system is made of military doctrine.
“Absolutely not,” I say.
Dax smirks. “Liar.”
“Of course I’m worried. I’m not concussed.”
He leans back. “I heard there’s a lot of endurance this season.”
“I heard there’s a lot of suffering this season.”
