Mrs. Hamilton and Donny sat at the top of the recently constructed observatory on the hill above Donnyton, looking at the twinkling lights of the town below. Behind them, the glass dome of the observatory faded to a shadowy mound. The sun had long since set, leaving them only with the few electric and torch lights spaced out around the training areas situated periodically in the hills to keep luminance in their eyes.

Tonight, all the training areas were at full capacity. The glare from the arenas was so bright that it was difficult to see the stars. Mrs. Hamilton had done some basic calculations: Almost 40% of the population pushed themselves to their limits, looking for any way to improve before the All Alpha Cosmos tournament.

Donnyton was full of vigor and motivation, eager to prove themselves still a dominant force in Expira after a disappointing showing at the prior tournament.

“There are two types of people who will attend this grand tournament,” Mrs. Hamilton said. She spoke to the stars, hoping that she could change the way her instincts predicted the tournament would unfold. “The first is someone who truly wants to prove themselves. They will come for the main fighting and throw everything they have into the contest, to see where they rank amongst the whole of the Alpha Cosmos. And the other group… will come with more conflicting intentions. They will participate in the tournament, but only because they aim for the Ghosthound. They wish to grasp at the peak player of Expira.”

“I think Randidly can more than handle those desperate sort of pretenders,” Donny said. “If what he says about the power shift in the Nexus is true-”

“No, I don’t doubt that.” Mrs. Hamilton shook her head. “Did you see Randidly when he sat at the beginning, when he still had something else on his mind? He anchored that whole television frame for several minutes with just his affect. Before he released that tension, I don’t think a single viewer at home could take a breath. More than anything about Randidly himself… I’m worried about Expira. Because Randidly has done a great job protecting the planet from the truth about itself.”

“What truth?” Donny reached into their snack bowl, which was empty, and grimaced.

“That at the end of the day, we are small-minded and ill-equipped to compete with the dangers the Nexus throws our way.” Mrs. Hamilton continued softly as she leaned back in her chair. “Monsters were fine; Dungeons and Raid Bosses we eventually grew accustomed to. Yet as soon as these smaller problems were addressed, we found ways to turn back on each other. As a planet, we’ve displayed remarkably little empathy and understanding for our fellow people.

“Paradoxically, the only way Randidly thought he could prevent us from sinking back to the grip of apathy that held most of pre-System Earth was by allowing danger to continue to threaten the average person. But without his appearance on Earth, if we as a planet had been exposed to the true threat of the System… we would have experienced a cataclysmic loss of life. Our current prosperity is almost completely built upon the actions of a single man.”

“So?” Donnyton still seemed confused.

Mrs. Hamilton’s expression twisted. “If we have eight champions go against Randidly in a fight and lose- if we can even manage to have that many individuals compete meaningfully against Randidly from a group that includes all of the Alpha Cosmos, that facade of competency will be ripped away. People will be scared at how much they depend on others. No one wants to be called out for clinging to someone’s coattails, even if its true.”

Understanding flickered in Donny’s face. “That fear might become an extra lashing they will take out on refugees in Expira. Or other marginalized groups.”

Mrs. Hamilton nodded. Right now, the lights around the training centers burned with hope. But she knew that wouldn’t last forever. The reason they could continue with such determination was that none of them had been forced to acknowledge their genuine place in the hierarchy of the Alpha Cosmos. “Very rarely do fearful people react well to hard truths about themselves. It’s easier… just to blame someone else.”

“But what can we do? People already feel so…” Donny trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.

Mrs. Hamilton’s smile was brittle. “Exactly. There is nothing that we can do but hope. Hope that the people of Expira surprise us. That seeing the capabilities that get revealed in this tournament somehow transcend their contexts and inspire the next generation to be more kind, more generous, more interested in pursuing an impossible and lofty goal of making the world a better place.”

Donny grunted. “It’s gonna be a frantic few weeks. And I know this might not be professional… but I hope you don’t mind if I participate-”

“Ha!” Mrs. Hamilton slapped her knee. Then she waved her hands when Donny looked at her in confusion. “Oh, just, I won’t judge you at all. Because I cannot help myself; I want to participate in the tournament too.”

“Oh.” Donny blinked. When Mrs. Hamilton arched an eyebrow at him, he frantically waved his hands. “No, obviously you are free to participate. I just thought- you usually don’t spend any time fighting-”

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“Yup, I will not have too high expectations. Making it to the top 64 will be enough for me..” Mrs. Hamilton said cheerily. But then she looked down at her hands and her inner thoughts erased the smile from her face. “Just like everyone else… I’m drawn to the truth about myself, even if I worry that I cannot handle to know it. I just want to see how much I can close the distance between myself in the Ghosthound.”

Donny gave her a long look. “...you only expect to get into the top 64?”

*****

Almost a thousand Frost Dragons crammed themselves into the underground cavern, their wings pressed tightly against their sides. Tails flicked back and forth and breaths provided a layer of frost on the already chilly ground. Most of the youthful examples bristled at being so constrained and their eyes burned with the desire to snip at their uppity companions. But all observed a certain level of decorum.

This was a place of worship, after all.

Wivanya, their progenitor, sat large and content in the middle of the throng of massive lizards, towering over most of her brood. She looped her long neck several times before lifting her head, but she still appeared like the main speaker here within the chill bowels of the ground. Yet she waited with the same patience displayed by all the Frost Dragons. Her tongue flicked out, tasting the air.

A few minutes passed with only the leather rustle of scale-on-scale. Several jostling youths gave each other promises with their eyes, silently swearing revenge for being crowded during this meaningful time. Tensions crept upward.

Finally, a small, pure white dragon walked out of an interior pathway. It raised itself onto its back legs and stretched its neck up in the air. “After much deliberation, we have decided that our wondrous race will send four representatives to participate in the tournament. Tomorrow we will hold a grand melee to determine those representatives. Fight to your heart’s content and bring glory to the Ghosthound with your exploits!”

The youth bared their teeth. Finally, they would have the chance to prove themselves.

*****

Huang Li walked behind his adoptive father Huang Shou with his head bowed and his hand on his sword. They moved through the jade halls, walking past rooms where young men and women sat playing the zither or painting watercolor. As someone with a finger on the pulse of surrounding images, due to his ability to aggregate united image into a powerful force, Huang Li began to sweat.

Because while the Aether in the surroundings seemed placid, he sensed the immense depths that lurked beneath it. The idyllic scene masked something… if not sinister, certainly artificial and full of guile.

“Coming from me, the request will seem insincere,” Huang Shou spoke quietly, barely a breath passing through his lips, so Huang Li struggled to hear even with his powerful senses. “However, to have the guardian of Zone 7 acting humble will hopefully move his heart. This man is our greatest treasure, a Zen master who has been instrumental in grounding this government’s legitimacy. Without his support, we would have crumbled into chaos. So be respectful and mindful. He is obviously extremely well-mannered, but he is sensitive.”

Huang Li nodded, despite the fact this was the tenth time that Huang Shou had reiterated something similar. It did make him realize a strange fact; his adoptive father was nervous. Not just a little nervous, but extremely so.

They arrived at a sliding bamboo door and Huang Shou opened it and gestured Huang Li to lead the way. The young man did so, unsure of what to expect. He was, perhaps, slightly disappointed that what he saw was exactly what he would have expected from the description Huang Shou gave.

An old man leaned over in the middle of a small courtyard, deftly using his fingers to trim a few stray leaves from a gorgeous little bonsai tree. But what really grabbed Huang Li’s attention was that in addition to almost ten picturesque little bonsais, there was a larger tree in the middle of the courtyard, with flames for leaves and that swayed back and forth in a slow dance.

“Well well,” The old man turned around with a knowing smile. “What possible reason could you important figures in our Zone 7 come to visit a retired old man like me?”

*****

“What? No.” Nrorce scowled powerfully. “Why the hell would I want to participate in your stupid tournament? My people may be idiotic enough to think they should participate and get their ears boxed in, but I feel my age when I get out of bed. Who has the energy for fighting?”

Randidly tried to suppress a smile but failed. He busied himself with eating the zucchini hash that Nrorce fried up for him. He used a fork to cut into one of the almost obscene large eggs that Nrorce now produced on his farm and mixed the honey-colored yolk through the hash. Nrorce watched his suspiciously, sensing his cheer at his expense.

Randidly coughed and shifted the subject. “Well, that’s actually not all of the reason why I came here. I want to talk to you about something.”

“You do always need something when you come to see me,” Nrorce observed sourly. Despite him seeming much more personable these days, much of his moods and actions were flavored by a low-grade constant bitterness. “What, you want a loan? Just a free meal? Catering for your tournament? Even if the paycheck is huge, making that much food-”

“I want to know if you’d be willing to teach someone to cook,” Randidly interceded before Nrorce got himself on a roll.

The small blue-goblin looked at Randidly with sharp eyes. “Oh, so you want me to babysit some kitchen amateur. I really don’t understand how you humans can consider yourselves adults when you can’t even cook yourself a solid meal.”

“Not an adult. He’s young,” Randidly successfully suppressed a grin this time. Then he leaned forward, knowing he had a hook to pull the goblin in. “But there is one reason why you’d be interested in this kid. He has an ability that allows him to do what you attempted to do with your isolated farm, on the fly. He can strip away the added image in food products and leave them pristine.”

Nrorce opened his mouth and then closed it. “...how well does it work?”