"Hellooooo? Mister Soul!"
"Ah–?"
It felt as though he'd suddenly been pulled out of a dream, blinking a few times as he found himself face-to-face with the rather nosy Concierge. A moment was needed to adjust, completely unaware of where he was, or what was happening.
He looked around, ignoring the inn manager entirely. It was a familiar interior; the marble walls, a bar along with a dining area–
'The waiting room? But, wasn't I just…?' He considered, thinking to himself.
There was nobody else in the room beside himself and the Concierge. A subtle hum filled his ears as the silence lingered, egging it to be broken–
"Mister Soul, your name has been called! The audience is waiting!" The orange-haired manager said hurriedly.
"My name?" Noah repeated in confusion.
"Yes, did you not hear it?" The Concierge clarified. "This is the Grand Finals! Your opponent is already out there waiting. Don't leave the crowd in suspense for too long now!"
