Author's Preface
The next day, a few hours before the tournament began, every team stood lined up in the tunnel beneath the arena. Klaus positioned himself at the entrance, microphone in hand.
"When your nation is called, step out and take your seats under your flag. Wave to the cameras." He looked down the line of teams. "Show the world that the awakened are here for them."
The arena was something else. Cameras covered every angle. The first two rows circling the entire space were lined with flags, every participating nation represented in sequence. The jumbotron hanging from the ceiling was visible from anywhere in the building. Millions around the world were already tuned in. This wasn't just a competition anymore. It was the equivalent of the Olympics, and everyone in that tunnel knew it. Nations were called one by one. Teams filed out of the tunnel, took their seats under their flags and waved to the cameras. Each time a team leader stepped into the arena, the jumbotron lit up with their information, core type, specialization, Golden Gate resonance and relevant stats. The crowd responded to each one. Cheers for the favorites. Polite applause for the rest.
Then the USA was called. Eve led the team out of the tunnel last. The jumbotron populated immediately.
Core: Spirit
Specialization: Spirit Manipulation / Summoner
Golden Gate Resonance: Thalorin
Strength: 39 | Agility: 57 | Endurance: 65 | Perception: 81 | Spirit: 99 | Control: 100
Below her stats, the team's information appeared in sequence.
Chris: Earth Core / Tank
Samantha: Mana Core / Elemental Mage
Cynthia: Flux Core / Support
Darrien: Aether Core / Assassin
Blue: Qi Core / ???? / Fighter
The team walked toward their seats. The crowd went silent. Not the polite quiet of transition. A complete stop, fifty thousand people holding their breath at the same moment. Then it broke all at once. An explosion of whispers filled the arena. Teams in the stands turned. Representatives from every nation pointed toward the jumbotron. Pointing toward Blue. In the representatives section, Aaron sat beside Harry, Titus and Grayson among the other US officials.
Harry leaned forward and stared at the screen. "What the hell is that?" He pointed directly at the question marks next to Blue's core power.
Aaron looked at it. "I don't know either."
Harry leaned back slowly. "Guess we're going to find out."
"Indeed." Grayson's voice came from Aaron's other side, quiet and pleased. "And I can't wait until we do."
High above the arena floor, in the broadcast booth, the commentators stared at the jumbotron. One of them reached over and muted the microphone.
"What the hell is that?" He turned toward the producer behind the glass. "Can you fix it?"
The producer shook his head. "There's nothing to fix. That feed came directly from the Association."
The commentator looked back at the screen. At the question marks. At the crowd below still buzzing.
He unmuted.
"Sorry, ladies and gentlemen watching at home. It appears we have, well, not a technical difficulty exactly." He cleared his throat. "It appears one young man in the American lineup has an unidentified power source."
"That's unheard of, Bob."
"It is, Michael. Completely unprecedented." Bob leaned toward his microphone. "I think we may have a dark horse in this year's tournament."
A brief pause as the feed shifted.
"Now, back to the ceremony. Germany is walking out. Three consecutive years at the top of the rankings. Bob, your thoughts on the Germans this year?"
"Simple. They stay first. Their record speaks for itself, and frankly, just look at them." The camera panned across the German team as they filed into the arena. Composed. Unhurried. The kind of confidence that came from never having lost. "The aura alone. There won't be much competition for first place this year. Everyone else is scrambling for second."
"You heard it here first, folks. Germany holds first while the rest of the field fights for position. Though we will be keeping a very close eye on those question marks. Dark horse? Simple misdirection by the Americans? We'll find out soon enough."
"The annual International Team Ranker Tournament begins in one hour. Stay tuned."
"Welcome to the 2026 International Team Ranker Tournament. I'm Michael."
"And I'm Bob."
"The mages are ready. Portals are open across the arena floor. Any final thoughts on the field, Bob?"
"This year's monster is a gryphon." Bob leaned toward his mic. "Aerial mobility. Razor talons. Built for speed and power simultaneously. I'm very curious to see how each team handles the aerial assault. It's going to separate the disciplined from the desperate very quickly."
"Couldn't agree more."
"Let's take a look at Team Brazil. Ranked 17th overall coming into today."
"Strong team on paper, Michael. Should be an interesting watch."
"Ohh." Bob's voice shifted. "Michael, it looks like their front line is failing to adjust to the gryphon's speed. They're not tracking the aerial movement at all."
"Whoa!"
"Two more from Team Brazil are down. Three members remaining. No front line left." Bob paused. "We may be looking at our first upset of the day."
"As a reminder to viewers at home, if every member of a team is eliminated, the team is automatically disquali..."
"And that's the end of Team Brazil."
"A poor performance from a team many had circled as a team of rising stars coming in," Bob said. "Team Brazil is disqualified."
"Tough day for them. Let's turn our attention now to the tournament favorite." Michael's voice lifted. "Germany is in their arena. The crowd favorite. Three consecutive years at the top. Bob, what are we watching here?"
The arena erupted. The main feed on the jumbotron shifted to the German arena and the crowd responded immediately. Cheers, flags waving, the energy of a crowd watching something they expected to be great and getting exactly that.
"Looks like the Germans are not struggling at all, Michael."
"On par with expectations, Bob. Their S-rankers are operating on a completely different level from what we just saw from Brazil... They appear to be, and I don't say this lightly, toying with it."
"That's just cruel and unusual punishment, Michael." Bob almost laughed. "Elias is stepping back now. Looks like he's preparing the final attack."
"Look at those clouds."
The arena feed darkened. The crowd noise shifted, anticipation building into something louder.
"Wow." Michael went quiet for half a second. "What an impressive display of control. Lightning called down from inside an enclosed arena. Caught the gryphon mid-flight."
"Three minutes and seventeen seconds, Michael. That is a new tournament record." Bob let it sit. "I don't think anyone touches the Germans this year."
"They come back every year stronger. It's remarkable consistency."
"Wait." Michael leaned forward. "What's this?"
"The Americans. One of the American teams has finished." Bob's voice picked up. "Three minutes and twenty-three seconds. Six seconds off the German record."
"Let's see who's walking out of that portal."
On the arena floor, the German portal opened first. Elias walked out with his hands raised. The crowd responded instantly, chanting his name, flags from across Europe waving in the stands. Three years. Three records. The crowd knew exactly who they were watching.
Seconds later, a second portal opened. Blue and the team walked out. For half a second, the arena went quiet, as if nobody quite understood what they were seeing. Then it erupted. Fifty thousand voices crashed together at once. People shot to their feet. Teams turned toward the American section. The jumbotron flashed the Columbus team's time beneath Germany's, six seconds separating the unknown Americans from the three-time champions. Elias lowered his hands. His eyes found Eve immediately. Something moved across his face. Not surprise.
Anger. He didn't look away. Didn't acknowledge the crowd still calling his name. Eve and the team walked off the stage and took their seats under the American flag without a word.
"My, my." Bob's voice was careful. "Ladies and gentlemen, it appears those question marks were not a ploy after all. The team from Columbus, Ohio nearly matched the German record."
"I wouldn't get too excited, Bob." Michael was already walking it back. "The Germans have Elias and two other S-rankers. I find it hard to believe those Americans would seriously challenge them for the rank one spot."
"You might be right."
"We'll return to the International Team Ranker Tournament with a recap of Team Columbus and their spectacular performance after a word from our sponsors." Michael looked over at Bob once the microphones went dead. "Where the hell did these guys come from?"
Bob shrugged. "I don't know, but this year's tournament won't be as boring as the last few. Thankfully."