Someone must've once lived here. It was an idle thought on the part of Jason, who now walked along with his team and the whole mass of participants in a giant throng of stampeding footsteps. The cave had quickly become a sort of tall and wide hallway, one whose raw stone walls were intermittently obstructed by aged, dusty pillars. On them were faded markings, sketched figures whose details had long ago been eroded and lost to time.

Of particular note were the crystals propped on these pillars, held up like lanterns by statuesque outcroppings whose exact form had been eroded to an indecipherable blandness. The crystals somehow glowed a soft green light, enough to keep everyone out of the dark, and unlike their containers they seemed untouched by the elements. Their unblemished sheen sat stark beside the decrepit state of everything else.

Who had built this place, and how long had it been since these halls last played host to such a large crowd? A thousand years? Two thousand? Few Magicians cared to shift through the past, and normal archeologists wouldn't have been able to see much less enter Labyrinth Peak, veiled as it was.

Malcolm and Red walked ahead of him, each dealing with the crush of bodies in their own way. The latter strolled with hands in his pockets, looking around at the competition with curious eyes while the former kept to himself, eyes locked forward. Already Red had made fun of Malcolm's new goggles—Bug-Eyes he'd called the other boy—but as always there'd been no heat behind it.

Jason did his own scan of the crowd, the nervous pull on his gut a now familiar companion. No sight of Douglas. Had he not turned out for this after all? En wouldn't have mentioned it if he didn't. Maybe it had just been so long that neither he nor Malcolm could recognize their own father. Hopefully it would stay that way, at least until Jason could get his brother alone. If only that stranger hadn't interrupted them...

He felt a nudge on his arm. Turning, Jason saw Stretch looking back with a quirked brow.

"You're rockin' that worried look, man." Face slick with sweat, Stretch combed his long hair back so it wouldn't stick to his forehead. Jason felt rather sweaty himself; underground and surrounded by all these people, it had quickly grown a bit warm for their heavy coats. "Mind unloading some of that weight on your shoulders, Cap?"

"I was just thinking we'll need to get rid of these," Jason said, tugging the furred collar of his hood. "Should've honestly just left 'em with the girls."

Stretch shrugged. "I'm not all that about winter fashion anyway."

"Neither is anyone else, apparently." Jason glanced around again. Though the other competitors had seemed strangely attired before, he realized now that the majority at least dressed appropriately for their surroundings. "We're some of the only ones who didn't think about it, apparently. Makes me feel unprepared."

"Hey." Stretch threw an arm over his shoulders. "No need to be prepared when we've got you here. Red too, and Mal. We're a dependable bunch."

"You left someone out," Jason said, thumping his friend's chest. "But I gotta admit, it was kinda surprising to see you volunteer like that."

"I can be proactive."

"Sometimes," Jason acknowledged, nodding. Still, he kept a sharp eye on the other young man. Stretch had always been good at sensing his disquiet, and over the years he'd developed the same skill in response. "So, what made you wanna come in here with us? I knew Red wouldn't need any convincing, but I expected you'd wanna stay out of it."

"Would you believe me if I said I was just looking for a little excitement?"

"No."

"Yeah, fair." Stretch patted his shoulder and drew his arm back, reaching to unzip his coat. A thoughtful expression crossed his face then, a mulling of words. "I guess... Well, everyone's pretty serious about this thing, right? Wouldn't have come if they weren't. All these Magicians came knowing they'd be up against the best of the best because they really think they'll win." He sighed. "I figure if I can hold my own against them then I'm not too bad myself. Is that dumb?"

"Doesn't seem dumb to me. Just never thought you'd be that ambitious."

"Blame that little dude," Stretch said, nodding toward Red. "I've been stuck on my Second Star for years, then he comes in and earns it in less than a month. Shit, first thing he did on the job was save the whole dang world." Shaking his head, he shrugged his coat off, folded it, and threw it on his shoulder. "The bar has officially been raised, man. Think I'll finally get my Third Star if I impress enough people during this thing?"

"There's always a chance," Jason said. "But y'know, it's not that big a deal, Stretch. We all have our strengths."

"Easy for you to say," Stretch chuckled. "Don't forget that I used to hang right there with you before you went and became some Four-Star bigshot. It's about time I caught up."

Jason smiled. "I'll be waiting, then. Just don't hurt yourself."

Soon after, they reached the end of the corridor. It opened up into an even larger room, circular and almost incomprehensible in its height. The whole span of wall was covered in holes, beehive entrances just like the ones they'd seen on the mountain's exterior, and at the room's center stood the largest green crystal of all, its smooth form rising like a misshaped lightbulb.

As the participants flowed into the room, they crowded around this crystal and looked up at the two figures who stood atop it. A man and a woman had waited for them there, both wearing the kind of professional attire you'd find in an office, polished shoes and clean-cut blazers.

The woman raised her hand, managing to gain everyone's attention and silence without having to say anything herself. Her Spirit spoke for her instead, a calm yet firm weight settling over all of them as her narrowed eyes scanned the room.

"My name is Yoko Kaneko," she said. Though she didn't shout, her voice still carried well and echoed through the expansive space. "I am the Director of Internal Affairs at the Ranger Corps, and one of the adjudicators for your first challenge. This man is the other adjudicator, Director of External Affairs Ricardo Santana." She then turned and said, with absolutely zero humor, "Say hello, Ricardo."

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"How nice to meet you people," Ricardo said, voice as gruff and sarcastic as his wave. "Wonderful. This is definitely not a huge waste of my time."

Where Yoko fit her suit primly, back straight like a trained dog, Ricardo fit his like a wolf might fit a cage. Where her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, his brown hair fell long and sloppy over his shoulders. Where her accent remained as a sort of phonic ghost, barely noticeable, his was spread thick and hit hard with each syllable.

They were, in other words, complete opposites. The only thing they had in common were the small crinkles that flanked each of their eyes, minute signs of age and experience, though even then Ricardo's hair was streaked with gray and white in a way Yoko's simply wasn't.

"I'm sure there is one question you all have asked on your way here," Yoko said, hands coming to rest on her front. "Why Labyrinth Peak? You were all told the Summit Tournament would take place in Soratan, after all. The answer is simple—"

"There's no way we're letting a bunch of nobodies come up to the RC's headquarters," Ricardo broke in, arms crossed. "Most of you people aren't even licensed, and I'd bet plenty of you are Rogues. Think you can just come up to our home and make trouble? Well, just because the Chairman was willing to let you in doesn't mean we were. I sure as hell wasn't."

"What Ricardo means is that you will all have to earn your way to Soratan through this challenge," Yoko said, carrying on without missing a beat. She held up a finger and pointed it up at the ceiling high above. "The task is simple. From here, you must climb your way to the top of the mountain. Waiting there is an aircraft ready to take you the rest of the way to the flying island."

"And before you start thinking it'll be easy, that aircraft has limited space." Here, Ricardo gave them a contemptuous smirk. "Right now there's over three hundred of you competing, but we're only taking one hundred." He rubbed his jaw. "I was hoping we could cut a few more of you out, but I guess getting rid of two thirds is good enough."

Someone let out a shout of derision. It was followed by a few more, some groans, some curses and yells, but rather than grow angry their complaints made Ricardo's smile widen. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, a sort of bronze bar that he then slowly and dramatically slipped his fingers through.

"Sure, give me a reason to go down there," Ricardo said, pulling out another bronze bar and slipping it into his other hand. "It's been so long since I had any fun."

A hush fell over the crowd then. Red frowned at the sudden silence, looking around at the other competitors and seeing a slack grimness over their faces.

"What is it?" he asked in a whisper, eyes narrowing up at Ricardo. Unlike with Yoko there hadn't been any huge show of Spirit, at least not any that he'd sensed. "I don't feel anything."

"He's got a Talisman," Jason said, smiling wryly. Still, despite his expression, his hand sat tight around his sword handle. "And he's a Director, Red. Top of the tippy top brass as far as Rangers go. You don't get to be that important unless you've at least earned your Fourth Star."

"So, like you?"

"Like me, but add a couple more decades to his resume. Not the sort of person you wanna mess with."

At least, not the sort of person most people would want to mess with. Jason could tell even as he spoke that Red became rather taken by the idea of what it would be like to fight Ricardo, considering all the hype, and in that moment he could see where Stretch was coming from. Someone this willing to jump into the thick of something he barely understood should've died long ago. The fact Red hadn't died, the fact he could actually be looking forward to the next test of his ability... it was a little infectious.

Meanwhile, the room was still filled with tense silence. When no one stepped up, Ricardo let his hands fall to his sides. "Let me be frank," he said, pointing down at them. "Those of you who can't even make it through a challenge like this... I'd rather kill myself than let you so much as touch Soratan with your smallest pinkie toe. If you're worth anything, you'll be up there before the cutoff. If you don't make it, well... Too damn bad. Our Enforcers will come around to collect those Talismans of yours soon enough."

This time, there were no complaints.

"There is only one rule in this challenge," Yoko said, glancing around at them. "Reach the top before our aircraft reaches maximum capacity. That is all."

"We're staring now," Ricardo said, crossing his arms again. "Now, get it? So hurry along, you nobodies. Better make it quick."

It started slowly at first. Most of the competitors were too taken aback by so abrupt an opening. But then, as more and more began to filter in through the many exits all around the room, the throng grew loud and frenzied.

The most important thing now was speed. Jason pulled and pushed his team along through the crowd, eyes scanning for caves, legs striding long and hard.

Some ran right into the caves on the ground level while others leaped high onto the openings several feet up. It didn't matter, Jason knew, because this place wasn't called Labyrinth Peak for the fun of it, and there wasn't any way to really tell which entrance would get you up the fastest. The cave at the room's lowest point could lead into a steep and direct climb to the top while the one at the room's highest point could lead right into an equally sheer drop.

The only sort of cave Jason cared to take his team to was whichever one no other team seemed interested in. He found a good candidate quickly enough; the three hundred competitors all clumped up into something like a hundred teams, so there were more than enough entrances for all of them.

"Why this one?!" Malcolm shouted, voice straining over the clamor.

"Because no one else is going for it," Jason said, standing by a small cave entrance he and Stretch would have to crouch under to fit in. Face set tight, he looked back at Malcolm as he waved them on. "Remember that the only rule is we have to get there before they run out of spots."

"I heard. So what?"

"So there are no other rules." Jason's hard eyes went to the fading crowd behind them, and when the others turned they found the same sight he had already anticipated.

Magicians fought at the room's center, Yoko and Ricardo observing cooly from atop their glowing gem platform. Weapons striking back and forth, Tricks cast like projectiles to hit or burn or slice. Already blood had been spilled, and already some wounded littered the ground, groaning in pain and struggling to return to their feet. No one had died yet from what Jason could see, but either way he wanted no part of it.

"They're attacking each other," Malcolm said, shocked. But then a couple of seconds passed, the wheels spun in his head, and his own face set itself into the same hardness as Jason's. "Of course they're attacking each other."

Malcolm was depressingly quick on the uptake, and his words were enough to get Red and Stretch on the same page. If this was a race then being faster than the competition was certainly one way to win it, but it wasn't the only way. After all, it didn't matter how slow your own team was if enough of the others were robbed of their ability to run.

"Move it, guys." Jason took Malcolm's arm and pulled the boy into the cave. "Let's create some distance. I'm betting anyone we run into from now on won't be very friendly."

They were more than willing to follow after that.