Reens led us down into the depths of the tower's basements, farther and farther, until we lost track of how far we had descended below the surface.

We only stopped until we hit the very bottom floor of the stairs. A heavy metal door, with multiple sets of locks, blocked our way. Reens fumbled around with her set of keys, matching them with various keyholes, until she had unlocked everything. With a grunt, she shoved the door open and led us through.

On the other side was a high-ceilinged, darkly lit room. The walls were gray and polished stone, featureless and austere. A shallow, glowing white pool in the center seemed to be the only source of light. Various tables and couches, mostly empty, were scattered about, arranged in seemingly haphazard orientations. Reens pointed discreetly at a pair of figures sitting on a couch, facing away from us. Those two fit her description of two of the leaders.

One of them was a woman wearing a circular wooden mask on her face. The mask was a plain disk, featureless except for the eyeholes. Her attire was a thick, feather-collared coat of dark red. That was Anastasia. Before rising to Gold, she had been the last Headmaster of Combat at Silvercreek's Combat Institute. The essence of her power was straightforward; she was the best at wielding all weapons. This was an absolute ability she had come to possess. No one in the death games, not in Gold, not even in Diamond, could equal her raw skill with any weapon she laid her hands upon.

The other leader present, sitting at her side, was a man in a suit, though otherwise unremarkable in appearance. His name was Lore. Reens knew less about him. Rumors went that he was a duelist who wielded a golden rapier, though I didn't see one on him.

The man turned around to face us.

"Security report?" he asked.

"All clear," Reens reported to him.

Was Reens a guard for the Bounty Hall? That explained how she managed to get us all the way down here with so little trouble.

"Go on," Lore said. "Why are they here?" He made a loose gesture at Mr. Atlas and myself.

"Guests of the Lady," Reens replied professionally.

The Lady. That was the third and last of the leaders, she had debriefed to us.

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"Ohh," he said with a grin. "Guests on the bottom floor. What's the big occasion?"

"I have not been informed," Reens replied.

"Don't mind if I eavesdrop," Lore said. "Well then, on with it."

"Yes," Reens said. She then turned to us. "Please wait here. Make yourselves comfortable."

I returned a knowing look as she left, presumably to fetch the Lady. All we could do now was wait. The two leaders here looked at ease enough, their guards down. It was tempting to strike, but I knew better. Attempting to fight them outside the arena was suicide. They were overleveled, as far as Reens told us, possibly in the double digits. Bringing them and ourselves all down to level 1, inside a PvP Challenge, was our only shot at standing against them.

There were other people around the room, on about their own private businesses. I overheard discussions of bounty prices, and saw dollars forked across tables. Their presence was a good thing. We weren't outright assassinating the leaders. We were challenging them, against their will, for their throne. And for that, we needed an audience.

Not before long, Reens returned. As she entered through the door, my chest grew tight, and I held my breath. The moment had come.

Behind her, was not a person, but a pure, white cat.

And behind the cat was a row of gray mice, disciplined like soldiers in their lockstepped march. I smelled a faint, acidic pungency from them.

I remembered that smell.

The exploding mice. The ones that almost killed Saber and me. Those that forced us into hiding, burned our skin and lungs.

So this cat was their master?

If not for her, Saber and Jack and I might have all made it, together.

The cat stared back at me, as I beheld it.

"That'ssss….Sssophia –" it began to hiss, an unnatural imitation of a human voice.

Lore shot up from the couch. "Wait, WHA –"

"Anastasia, Lore, Lady –" Reens began.

The mice hissed and lunged toward me, bulging and ready to burst.

"– my team declares a PvP match," Reens announced.

Before the mice could explode, a harsh light drowned out everything. I heard shouts around the room. I couldn't tell if those were of shock, distress, or excitement. The light drowned out those, too.

When the light faded, the dark and stale dungeon was no more.

The sky above us stretched vast and clear. Clouds rolled by upon the wind. The sun was bright, and its light felt good on my damp and clammy skin. The soft, grassy field under my feet waved in the gentle breeze.

I looked to my left and right. Mr. Atlas. Reens. Around us were the tall stone walls of our base. We had returned to the arena once more.

Never before had I been more scared, nor more exhilarated, to begin a match here.