The countdown clock ticked relentlessly. 19:05... 19:04... 19:03...
However, despite the pressure of choosing a partner fast, Leo stood still amidst the chaos, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd as contestants lunged, bargained, and threatened their way into forming pairs.
Almost everyone that Leo looked at, seemed mentally deranged to him.
Almost everyone he made eye-contact with seemed to have the look of a predator first and a person next. Which made Leo extremely reluctant to pair with them.
However, as he scanned the crowd, his eyes eventually landed on a chubby round-faced contestant, who waddled his way awkwardly through the crowd trying to find a partner.
He stuck out like a sore-thumb in this crowd of assassin's, who were all physically toned and tended to be lean, as while there were a few physically imposing assassin's in the crowd, he was the only one that was on the obese side of the scale.
Sweat beaded across his flushed cheeks as he shuffled nervously from one group to another, raising his trembling hands in a silent plea for partnership.
However, each attempt ended the same way— in a sharp rejection or cold indifference.
People turned away, avoided eye contact, or flat-out ignored him as if he weren't even there.
"No way piggy"
"Get your snout away from me"
"Team up with you? Why? To die first?"
These were the words people used to reject him, but where others saw weakness, Leo saw an anomaly.
"You are all elite assassin seedlings." The instructor's words echoed in his mind
But it wasn't just that. His thoughts drifted back to the note he'd found in the cart, the one that referred to him as "one of Earth's best assassins."
And it was these two lines put together that gave birth to an idea in Leo's head.
If he was considered as one of Earth's finest, then surely the others here weren't ordinary either. They had to be exceptionally skilled in their own ways.
This wasn't a crowd of random misfits. Everyone here had been chosen. Selected. Vetted.
This meant that although the fatty looked chubby and harmless, if he wasn't built for combat, then his skills had to lie in some other department.
Perhaps stealth, evasion or subterfuge?
It was a gamble, an educated guess of sorts, however, Leo had a feeling that there was more to the fatty than what met the eye at first glance, and with him unsure of his own combat potential, Leo analysed that a partner skilled in hiding was his best shot at survival.
'Alright. I want him' Leo thought, as pushing forward through the chaos, he weaved between contestants locked in arguments or hurried negotiations, until he stopped directly in front of the fatty.
The boy froze, his round face glistening with sweat as he looked up at Leo, his wide eyes brimming with nervousness and suspicion.
"Do you have a partner yet?" Leo asked, his voice low and steady.
The boy hesitated, his shoulders hunching inward as if bracing for rejection.
"N-No," he stammered. "Nobody... wants to team up with me."
Leo's gaze didn't waver. "I'm not asking what others think of you. I'm asking if you want to survive."
For a long moment, the boy stared at Leo. His lips trembled slightly, his eyes flicking downward, then back up.
Then, he gave a small, shaky nod. "Y-Yeah... Yeah, I do."
Leo extended his hand.
"Then we're partners."
The boy stared at Leo's outstretched hand as if it were an anchor in the middle of a storm. After a heartbeat of hesitation, he reached out and gripped it tightly.
His palm was clammy, his grip trembling, but there was resolve in the way he held on—a fragile ember of determination hidden beneath layers of fear.
"My name's Felix," he said, his voice quieter now.
"Leo."
Their hands parted, but the unspoken agreement lingered.
Leo studied Felix briefly—his awkward frame, the sweat glistening on his brow, the nervous twitch of his fingers against the edge of his belt.
But none of that mattered.
'Seedlings'
'One of Earth's best assassins'
Leo's instincts told him he'd made the right choice.
"He's not here by accident. None of us are." He repeated in his head, as he exhaled softly.
The two of them stood side by side as the timer ticked lower. 10:00... 08:30... 05:00...
Felix fidgeted slightly, his hands hovering awkwardly near his utility belt that was equipped with an odd combination of only two daggers and about five giant gourds of liquid.
It was undoubtedly an odd combination for any assassin, however, Leo did not read too much into it.
"Are you... sure about this test, Are you sure about qualification? The others here look so mean and strong–" Felix asked hesitantly, his voice low, however Leo didn't turn to look at him.
"Quiet. Eyes up. Breathe slow and you'll be fine. The other contestants have already begun to stalk us, they are marking us as easy prey, and your lack of confidence is only making things worse" Leo said, as Felix swallowed hard but straightened slightly, his shoulders less hunched now.
Around them, guards in dark uniforms began moving along the edges of the crowd, dragging away the few contestants who had failed to find partners and pairing them forcefully.
The clock ticked: 02:00... 01:00... 00:30...and At 00:10, Commander Rourke's voice thundered across the yard:
"Pairing phase is over. If you're still alone, your fate is sealed." The commander said, as under his strict gaze, even the last two contestants, unwilling to pair with one another, suddenly straightened up, holding hands happily.
The clock reached 00:01—and then froze at 00:00.
At that moment a deafening BEEP echoed across the courtyard, as ahead, the massive steel gates groaned open, their reinforced frames grinding against rusted tracks.
The air grew colder, and silence pressed down on all contestants like a suffocating blanket, as from the platform, Commander Rourke's voice rang out one final time:
"The time for hesitation is over. The test begins now.
We have cast a tracking spell on all your vital signs and shall be watching all your actions through magic crystal orbs.
You have 20 minutes to spread out and hide, after which killing shall be permitted.
The final 125 pairs remaining will move on, but if even after 48 hours, you people have not reached the elimination threshold, all shall be disqualified"
"Goodluck—"