CHAPTER 78 — The Names on the Stone
The arena was full.
The bleachers vibrated with an immense crowd, gathered from the four corners of the world. Flags, chants, shouts — a sea of colors and sounds rising toward the grey sky. Nations were represented, heads of state present, generals standing at attention. The wind carried voices, mixed them, made them dance above the stone like living smoke.
But Zayn was not in the arena.
He was in a dark room, far from the spotlights, far from the shouts. A rectangular space, lit by screens hanging on the walls. Rows of seats, stone columns, dim light falling like cold dust.
It was the fighters' waiting room.
They were all there. The thirteen survivors of the labyrinth, sitting in scattered rows, eyes fixed on the giant screen that occupied the entire far wall. Some were leaning back, others leaning forward, others still motionless, arms crossed.
Zayn sat in the second row, legs apart, elbows on his knees. He stared at the black screen.
Yojuro was beside him, as always. Not too close, not distant. Just present, in his usual silence.
"Nervous?" Zayn asked, his voice low.
"No."
"I am."
"I know."
Zayn smiled despite himself.
"You're not supposed to reassure me?"
"I'm not a comforter."
"I know."
"Then why do you ask?"
Zayn didn't answer. He looked at the screen.
"Because I like hearing your voice, even when you say useless things."
Yojuro turned his head. He looked at him for a second, expressionless. Then he looked back at the screen.
"You're strange."
"I know."
---
The screen lit up.
A crackling sound, then an image. An aerial view of the arena, the bleachers packed, flags waving, faces lifted toward the sky.
Then a voice.
Arthur D. Blackthorne's voice. Deep, calm, emotionless — like a blade laid flat on a table.
"Welcome to the Crown of Ash."
Silence fell in the room. The fighters stopped moving.
"This year, the tournament has been reformed. Due to the high number of qualified candidates, the UAP has decided to add a group stage before the elimination rounds. Only the top two from each group will advance to the quarterfinals."
Zayn leaned toward Yojuro.
"Groups?"
"Yes."
"That's new."
"It's an excuse."
"An excuse for what?"
Yojuro didn't answer. He stared at the screen.
"To bring in more fighters. The UAP needs a spectacle."
Zayn opened his mouth to reply, but the screen changed.
The groups appeared in white letters, sharp, merciless.
---
GROUP A
Yojuro – Zenith
Ranmaru – Eclipse
Blanche – Zenith
Nefaria Romanov – Class ?
---
GROUP B
Zayn – Zenith
Echo – Eclipse
Akamaru – Zenith
Rodrigue – Zenith
---
GROUP C
Aku – Zenith
Kiran – Zenith
Kira – Scarlet
— (Cynthia — suspended due to injury)
---
GROUP D
Kai – Zenith
Murata – Eclipse
---
A murmur ran through the room.
"Who's Nefaria Romanov?" asked Kai, his voice tense.
He was right. No one knew that name.
Blanche turned toward the screen, eyes narrowed.
"I've never seen her."
Rodrigue shrugged.
"Maybe a new student. A transfer."
"No one warned us," said Akamaru.
"It's the UAP," Murata murmured. "They do what they want."
Zayn looked at Yojuro.
Yojuro didn't move. He stared at the screen, at Nefaria's name, at the white letters on the black background.
"You know who she is," Zayn murmured.
"Yes."
"And you're not saying anything?"
"Not here."
Zayn looked at him. Then he turned back to the screen.
"She seems nice, at least."
Kai looked at him.
"You know her?"
"No. But she has a princess name. I bet she wears a crown."
Blanche rolled her eyes.
"Are you serious?"
"I'm always serious."
"You just made a joke."
"It was a serious joke."
Rodrigue laughed.
Yojuro didn't laugh. He was still staring at the screen.
"She's not a princess."
Zayn looked at him.
"What is she, then?"
Yojuro turned his head toward him. His eyes were calm, but there was something heavy behind them — a knowledge he carried alone.
"Something that shouldn't exist."
Silence fell again.
The screen went dark.
---
Arthur, on screen, raised his hand.
"The matches begin tomorrow. Let the best one win."
The screens went dark.
The room remained silent.
Kai stood, arms crossed.
"So what do we do now?"
"We wait," said Blanche.
"We train," said Murata.
"We eat," said Rodrigue.
Zayn smiled.
"I vote for eating."
Kai looked at him.
"You're always joking."
"It's my only talent."
"No. You can fight too."
"Yes. But joking is easier."
Kai shook his head, but he smiled.
The fighters stood, one by one. Some left, others stayed. Zayn remained seated, eyes on the dark screen.
Yojuro didn't move.
"Nefaria Romanov," Zayn repeated, as if tasting the name. "Is she dangerous?"
"Very."
"More than Loyd?"
"Not yet."
"And you're going to fight her?"
"If I have to."
Zayn looked at him.
"Are you scared?"
Yojuro didn't answer right away.
He looked at his hands, then the floor, then the empty screen.
"Fear isn't weakness. It's a reminder."
"A reminder of what?"
"That you're alive."
Zayn was silent for a long moment.
"You're really philosophical, you know."
"I'm tired."
"Is that the same thing?"
"Often."
Zayn smiled.
"Come on. Let's go eat."
He stood.
Yojuro followed him.
In the empty room, the dark screen reflected the empty seats, the shadows, the silence.
Nefaria Romanov wasn't there yet.
But her name was already carved in stone.
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