The morning didn't begin with sunlight. It began with signals.
Inside the National Training Camp's core facility, dozens of candidates were awakened not by alarms but by synchronized system pings, flashing softly on walls and wristbands. Most candidates sat up in their bunks with bleary eyes, unsure if this was a new trial. Others scrambled toward their terminals, half-expecting surprise elimination notifications. But Raj was already awake. Not just physically, but mentally set.
He sat by the desk inside his dorm, sketchpad open, glove molds resting beside his system interface. He hadn't slept deeply. Not because of anxiety, but because of what he had felt during the trial match the previous day. Something had shifted—not just in rankings or numbers, but in perception. His silence had started speaking a language others were finally forced to learn.
And the system had felt it too.
⟐ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: CONTRACT INTERFACE ACTIVATED ⟐
