As the round ended, I was disgraced by the standings. I alone, among my peers, was winless. I was glad that my father wasn’t there to see my struggles.

Winners (3 Wins Each):

* Lauren: 3

Winners (2 Wins Each):

* Gideon: 2

* Theo: 2

* Lance: 2

* Emilia: 2

* Katya: 2

Winners (1 Win Each):

* Arthur: 1

* Zara: 1

* Felix: 1

* Leona: 1

* Olaf: 1

*

Losers (0 Wins):

* Tiberius: 0

As we started the last round, I was the only participant who had yet to win a round. Everything suddenly had an air of formality. The others knew it too. All they had to do was wait, and I would be the one to end the day ejected. My best hope was to tie with someone, and end the last round on equal scores. But, for all I knew, that might only see all of those in last place ejected. As I watched, less interested in the fighting than in my father's reaction, I had a vague awareness of Arthur beating Theo, Zara besting Emilia, and Felix getting the better of Katya to the amazement of all.

When Leona squared off with Gideon, it was clear his previous mistake had screwed with his thinking. He hadn't decided to learn from his overzealousness of the previous round. If anything, he seemed to charge into the circle with something to prove. He put everything he had into quickly dispatching Leona. There were no questions among any of us that he was the better in a Griidsuit, but his eagerness left himself open. I snapped out of my melancholy long enough to admire her patience and steel as she gave herself up to him, inviting another outrageous lunge, and then took advantage of the opening, striking him. The kinetic explosion from the Griidsword lifted him from his feet and planted him on his back.

Mario shouted, "MATCH!" He looked about us as Gideon rose to his feet, boiling with rage. He was safe; he already had two wins, but the shame of falling twice devoured him. Mario seemed ready to vomit, his face queasy. "This has been the most pathetic display I could have imagined. I want no more of it. The table is clear; we don't need to continue with all the contests."

My heart sank, tears stinging my eyes. I tried to stand upright, proud, to show them I could take my ejection with resolve. Mario turned to me. "You have no win yet today. It is impossible for you to reach a score of two and pass any of them."

I clenched my jaw. I had thought I would feel relief in this moment, but it was just crushing dread, and humiliation. I imagined Lauren staring at me with scorn, or worse, pity.

Then Mario turned to Olaf. "You have been drawn to fight the winless one this round. You, child, have only a score of one. If he bests you, then you will be tied, and he will hold the tiebreaker of the head-to-head victory."

My feelings rose, confused, realizing suddenly that I had a chance.

Mario said, "Tiberius, Olaf, don your suits. This will be the final round. The loser will be banished from the arena."

As I stepped into my Griidsuit, I watched Olaf cross the circle towards his. His posture was tense, his movements betraying the same pressures I felt. I could see his trembling, but he seemed to have the vital ingredient that I couldn't find: confidence. He had won a round, after all. As I entered the suit, the voice returned.

"Oh, this is so exciting! You're so close. Imagine having the beam at your disposal, gaining a full point in an attribute on just the second day of the Choosing—"

I cut the voice off, hissing, "Shut up! I don't have time for this. If I don't beat him right now, I'll never have another chance at the beam or anything else."

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"But—" the voice started.

I cut it off again, roaring and charging at Olaf as Mario dropped the starting flag.

Olaf was startled by the suddenness of my attack. He hadn't expected it. Even he didn't expect me to be a real challenger. And, at first, the ferocity of my assault served me well. Olaf backpedaled away from me, careening toward the edge of the circle. But he was aware of what was happening. At the last moment, he arrested his retreat and stepped into me. He shoulder-checked me, his huge mass staggering me.

Olaf seized the opening. I dodged back as he swung his sword, but Olaf scored a glancing blow. The kinetic blast still sent me skittering back, but I managed to keep my feet. As I regained my footing, digits flashed before me—the 0.2 by Shield became a 0.3.

The voice cackled with excitement. "Look at you! Look what you can do. Now, the beam!"

I ignored the voice, focusing on Olaf. I could see his chest swell. For the first time that day, he felt he had the upper hand over an opponent. He seized control of the fight. He worked on me, pressing the attack himself now. I tried to find rage to push me, but the deflation of my impending defeat nagged endlessly at my spirits. The voice continually pestered me to flex the beam, but I ignored it, wondering why I bothered at all. Olaf had me, and he was being careful. He wouldn't make a mistake.

Olaf glanced me again, sending me stumbling but just holding my footing. The Shield score became a 0.2, but now he had me cornered. One step back would take me outside the ring, leaving me short of room to maneuver. I could feel the curtain falling on my slim hopes.

Then the voice screamed in my ears, "Flex the beam! Flex the beam! You're so close!"

My heart ached. Perhaps if I had followed those instructions from the start of the round, I would have the beam by now. But time was too close. What was I at, 0.7? Almost unbidden, I summoned the stats before me, and my eyebrows shot up inside my helm.

Current Stats:

* BEAM: 0.9

* SHIELD: 0.3

* POWER: 0.0

* CUT: 0.0

* AGILITY: 0.0

How had this happened? How was it a 0.9? Had I really been flexing it that hard?

Olaf gathered himself. Like a wolf smelling blood, he knew he had me. He carefully set his feet, measuring me as he gathered himself for a fresh flurry. I was too close to the edge to set my feet right. I was off balance and vulnerable. My mind rolled back to the fight with Lauren. She had toyed with me for so long. She had stretched that fight out. I didn't know if she had played things out so long from cruelty, or pity. Maybe she had used the time with such an inadequate opponent to simply practice with the suit. After Lance goaded her, she had pressed me, but carefully. I had been too concerned with defending myself to have an awareness of the text on my HUD. But I had still been flexing and flexing.

Then Olaf came at me. He wasn't going to give me a chance to move away from the edge of the circle. He could afford to be aggressive, I was in no position to counter him. I watched his big form close on me with no small amount of panic. I had no defense. But I squeezed the sword in my hands. I strained my brain as I flexed the invisible muscle.

The digits on my HUD flashed—the 0.9 fading, a 1.0 blinking into place.

I felt a surge of power course through me. My sword blazed with light. I think that was the first moment when I understood the ecstasy of being in the suit. The kinetic blast erupted along the length of my sword. I openly gasped at the sensation, the feeling of such power. Olaf's eyes widened in surprise as the force hit him, lifting him off his feet and sending him flying back, all the way across the circle and out the other side.

I stood there, amazed, my heart pounding in my chest. The crowd erupted in gasps and murmurs. Some of them had been barely watching. But now I had their attention.

I could hardly believe what had just happened.

Mario, stunned, hesitated for a moment. He composed himself and barked out, "MATCH!"

Reality dawned on me only slowly. I had done it. I had won a round. More importantly, I had gained an attribute! The others looked at me with something like disbelief. Of all of us, I was surely the last anyone had expected to see do something like this.

Lauren caught my eye. She smiled. It was a faint thing, a subtle thing. But it was there.

What came next felt as bad as the victory had felt good. Olaf gathered himself from the ground, spitting dirt. He had come so close, I could feel his pain. Like me, he had spent the day straining to just survive. And he had done what he needed to do. He'd won a round and put himself ahead of me. The surprise in his eyes faded and something else burned there. Hatred. He hated me. And why shouldn't he?

Mario still seemed confused by what he had just seen. But he spoke, his voice carrying the monotony of ceremony. "Where there were twelve, now eleven remain. Olaf, you are hereby ejected from the Choosing. May your future endeavors bring you strength and wisdom."

Olaf's shoulders slumped. The big man seemed smaller now. I ached that it was I who had done this. But I had had no choice. Olaf faced the priest and nodded curtly. His face strained to contain the emotions that welled there.

As he left, it was as much sorrow I felt as victory.

I looked at my sword and felt a new lightness in me. I could wield the BEAM. I was the first among us to do that! For all the disadvantages I had, surely this new asset would give me a real chance to succeed.

I looked again at the faces of my competitors. They were looking at me differently now. Even Lance seemed to consider me.

In a moment I had gone from being an afterthought to a true threat.