Apparently, everyone had already left early to secure their spots, so there wasn't a single person in the capsule station. I found the platform heading towards the "Colosseum" and watched the white, streamlined capsule silently glide through the vacuum coil tube, stopping in front of me as the tube's opening and the capsule's door simultaneously opened.

The seats were quite comfortable, the kind that made you sink in and never want to leave. This was my first time using the capsule high-speed rail, so I wasn't sure if this was standard or a special upgrade for the celebration event like the Selection.

A few seconds after the tube sealed, the capsule began to move. I heard this thing could reach speeds of up to a thousand kilometers per hour, but with the Hadrian Wall to the Colosseum only about a hundred kilometers away, I wouldn't get the chance to experience the top speed.

In the vast darkness of the underground space, I watched each electromagnetic coil blur into the background, feeling a kind of low-frequency, stable vibration in the air.

I took out my personal terminal and activated the browser to search. Some things the Library Master said earlier made me think about my previous questions regarding the happiness machine.

"Neural interface, visual reconstruction." As soon as I spoke, the terminal screen displayed the search results, and I selected an entry that seemed to fit my needs.

"... In most cases requiring visual reconstruction, the optic nerve has atrophied and cannot function properly. Therefore, the most common alternative is to use the facial nerve as a substitute conduction pathway."

I scrolled down the page, looking at several photos showing different styles of goggles. The basic structure was the same: dark lenses with high-polymer structures crossing the snout, covering the area from the brow to the cheekbones, with metallic pads on either side extending to the temples.

"... The surgery is irreversible and often results in the loss of taste. In rare cases, it can lead to issues with facial muscle control."

I tapped my temple, imagining the feeling of having to choose between two senses to sacrifice.

"... The goggles detect head and eye movements and transmit visual signals back to the brain. By fully simulating neural electrical signals, the imaging result is theoretically indistinguishable from original vision. However, current technology still faces some obstacles in capturing non-luminous objects."

Noticing the capsule slowing down, I sped up my reading.

"... By connecting to other external electronic devices, the neural interface essentially becomes a type of 'electronic eye,' blurring the line between reality and the metaverse. Naturally, incorporating features like photography, high magnification zoom, and invisible light detection, the term 'world seen through the eyes' takes on a very different interpretation. Since these signals are directly input into the brain, information security is a crucial concern..."

The capsule slid into the station, and upon re-entering the illuminated area, I was immediately struck by the grandeur of the Colosseum's high ceilings. Various reliefs and murals looked down from above, making me feel insignificantly small. I pulled the browser page to the bottom, intending to finish reading the entry before the capsule came to a complete stop.

"... Hearing can also be restored using similar methods, at least simulating the original electro-physiological signals. However, given the limited number of neurons in the brain, the assistance provided by signal simulation is still limited... For more extreme cases, or applications in severe disabilities, refer to the 'Happiness Machine' entry."

I shrugged, closed the screen, and put the terminal back into the strap on my left arm. I had gathered enough information and temporarily had no further questions about the happiness machine.

The capsule and the tube opening synchronized and opened. I stepped onto the platform, took a moment to admire the ceiling's artwork, and then looked around. Following the signs on the walls, I found my way to the auditorium area, where the viewing rooms for the broadcast were located. I chose the least crowded broadcast room as my destination, but according to the display, there were still nearly a thousand people inside, almost the size of an entire faction.

At one of the intersections, I saw several older gray wolves from different factions

waiting by the entrance of a moving cabin, quietly chatting with each other. According to the sign, it led to the ground seats, so although they weren't wearing toga robes, they should be notable figures in their respective factions.

"Hey, it's Snow!" An excited voice, trying to stay low but failing, said. It took me a while to realize they were referring to me, as there were no other white wolves in the hallway.

The fur on my neck stood up, itching irritably, and my ears drooped helplessly against my head.

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Only outsiders would use the name Snow to refer to me... It felt strange, and I didn't know how to react. Does it affect whether I am truly considered Snow if I haven't been accepted by the pack? If a wolf isn't accepted by the pack, is it still a wolf? What do I think of myself? Do I consider myself Snow? If not, then what am I?

"Where are your manners?" A deeper voice reprimanded, and the first voice let out a faint whimper.

Seizing the moment, I glanced back towards the source of the voices. It was two young Nyxies, the older one looking about my age, with thick, shiny black fur reflecting the soft light from above.

Noticing my gaze, the older wolf lowered his eyes, slowly shifting his ears back, and swished them a few times. When he saw that the young wolf was still staring at me, he bared one side of his fangs and let out a low growl, making the young wolf immediately lower his gaze and ears, tail curling slightly between his legs.

I flattened my ears against my head, slightly parted my mouth without showing my teeth, blinked, and gently wagged my tail to show goodwill and defuse the tension, indicating that I was not offended.

Many people often say that the all-black fur of the Nyx faction makes communication difficult, but I think those who say that are just making excuses for their incompetence--laziness is just laziness.

"The pup is visiting Colosseum for the first time and got a bit too excited," the black wolf said, walking over and apologizing again with his ears lowered. "Aether Nyx." He lightly pressed his palm against his chest and bowed his head to introduce himself.

"Momus Nyx." The young wolf tried to mimic Aether's gesture but was a bit clumsy, to which the older black wolf responded with a light sigh and lowered his head further.

Even among the Nyx faction, known for their elegant demeanor and natural pride, not all members were born that way--I silently mocked my own thoughts.

"Richter." I introduced myself with the same gesture, noticing Aether's ears twitch slightly but showing no other reaction, while Momus looked at me with a puzzled expression.

"Why is your...?" Momus's question was cut off as Aether quickly smacked the back of the young wolf's head, leaving only a black blur.

"Shall we go in?" Aether suggested, ignoring the young wolf's soft grumbling. "It's about to start."

"Of course." I said, giving Aether a grateful look. He maintained a serious expression, nodding at me with a slight movement, making his yellow eyes seem to flash with a golden glow. Maybe it was the lighting, or perhaps just my imagination.

The automatic door to the broadcast room slid open as we approached, revealing a circular room similar to a lecture hall but completely round, with rows of curved seats and a central holographic projector displaying the terrain and landscape of Colosseum. Most of the wolves inside were looking at their terminals, and I knew the broadcast server offered zoom and focus features on specific areas of the arena.

"It's Qana!" Momus, who had seemed sullen a moment ago, lit up with excitement as we settled into an unoccupied area, his attention drawn to the swordmaster on the screen. "I wish I could be trained by The Empire's Premier Swordsman instead of reciting what some dead guy did thousands of years ago..."

Aether raised an eyebrow, glancing at the mumbling young wolf, his thoughts unreadable.

"Qana hasn't been The Empire's Premier Swordsman for many years," I pointed out, watching the swordmaster, who was growing increasingly impatient with the interviewers. I couldn't help but admire their bravery. Whenever Qana looked at me like that, I couldn't help but tuck my tail between my legs.

"Of course, you have to consider their prime. Qana is undoubtedly the best among the living swordmasters!" Momus continued to stare at the image of Qana, his tone as if stating an obvious fact. Aether frowned at this, perhaps considering whether to scold the young wolf again for his impoliteness. "And most of The Empire's Premier Swordsman have been from the Snow faction; other factions don't even get a chance..." The young wolf's tone grew somber as he glanced at me, then lowered his eyes, looking at his dangling feet.

"I think Qana would be happy to hear that you support him." Probably not. "I can convey your sentiments to him." I could almost imagine the swordmaster raising an eyebrow at me, but I didn't want to disappoint the young wolf.

"You know Qana Snow?" His ears perked up, and he turned towards me suddenly.

"Uh... yes." I confirmed with my body language. "He is my swordsmanship instructor..."

The young wolf suddenly pounced on me, grabbing my collar and excitedly shouting something at a speed I could only guess was a request to meet Qana. For a moment, I didn't know how to react to this sudden development and could only let the pup jump around on me until Aether grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, lifting Momus and placing him back in his seat.

The surrounding wolves were loudly cheering for their favorite teams during the interviews, so the whole episode went unnoticed by anyone else. The only performers in this little drama were Aether, looking both helpless and embarrassed, Momus, still wildly waving his limbs and attempting to pounce on me again, and myself, left with no choice but to straighten my disheveled clothes.

"After today's event, I have an appointment with Qana," I recalled the message from the swordmaster sent to my terminal last night, asking me to watch the Selection and meet him after the first day's schedule. I wasn't sure if this was the kind of meeting where I could bring along a fervent fan. "Maybe there's a chance to..."

"That's fantastic!" Before I could finish, the young wolf interrupted me with a loud cheer, his voice rising in volume and pitch with every word. Aether immediately grabbed Momus by the snout, muffling his speech into incoherent sounds.

Interestingly, this didn't deter the young wolf's expression of joy at all. He continued to flail his limbs and wriggle in his seat. At least Momus was successfully restrained, and Aether looked at me apologetically, his ears flattened against his head.

For some reason, the sight made me smile, a warm feeling spreading in my chest. I blinked at Aether and gently shook my head, indicating I didn't mind. The black wolf immediately perked up his ears, released Momus, and quickly turned his gaze to the broadcast, feigning sudden interest.

Confused, I slowly folded my right ear, but I noticed a slight blush at the tips of Aether's sparser ear fur. Realizing what this reaction meant, I turned my gaze away as well, feeling a warm flush rise to my cheeks.

Well... this is... interesting? Is this what being... uh... complimented feels like?

We both stared at the broadcast screen, but from the corner of my eye, I saw him steal a glance at me before quickly looking away again. It made it harder to focus on pretending to watch the broadcast, and my ears grew warmer. For a moment, the only sound was the rustling of Momus's tail fur.

Is it because it's the first time receiving goodwill from someone my age that this feeling is so... intense? Or is this what they call... an indescribable emotion?

"How big is the Colosseum anyway?" Momus broke the awkward silence, and I was sure I heard Aether sigh in relief. Naturally, I did too.

"The plain area is about three hundred and forty square kilometers if you use the levee as a baseline," Aether said, showing the young wolf his terminal and pointing to the coastal region's levees. "The sloped area has a projected area of about twenty-five thousand square kilometers."

I looked at Aether, my ears perked towards him in admiration. He shrugged, indicating it was no big deal.

"It's really huge," Momus said, swinging his little legs in sync with his tail's movement.

"After all, the initial plan was to encompass the entire basin," Aether said, to which the young wolf nodded in response.

"I thought it was the Ash faction responsible for planetary studies," I said, turning back to the broadcast with a submissive tone, not wanting to be misunderstood.

"This falls under history," Aether clarified, adjusting his posture and placing his terminal back on his arm.

"The most boring kind..." Momus muttered, his tail flicking to the left in displeasure.

Aether showed a nearly helpless expression, patting the young wolf's head. Before he could say anything, the other wolves in the room cheered like a wave, drawing our attention back to the broadcast.

A thunderous roar marked the official start of the first match of the Selection.