The Capital Flame Circuit didn't look like a place for new beginnings. It looked like a place for verdicts.
The transport rolled to a stop outside the central terminal just past dawn, its roof still slick from dew that hadn't dried in the cold mountain air.
Marble towers etched with the names of past champions caught the sunlight first, casting long shadows down onto the plaza where incoming candidates stood, waiting to be sorted, scanned, and stripped of any illusions they might still carry about talent being enough.
Raj stepped off the vehicle in silence. He was the only one without a logo stitched into his jacket. No academy badge. No city crest. No colors assigned.
The system had provided him a neutral slate uniform—black with muted silver threading, anonymous at a glance. And yet, somehow, more distinct than any crest.
Because it meant one thing: he had arrived without anyone pulling strings for him.Which meant he was already being watched.
