As most of the chairs filled and frustration simmered among the participants, soft murmurs of discontent spread through the crowd.
Then, the air shifted.
Click-clack, click-clack.
The rhythmic click of heels echoed from the back of the hall. Heads turned toward the sound as a woman flanked by two maids stepped forward.
Her presence was magnetic, silencing the room without a word.
Her hair, a deep red cascade, flowed down her back, its sheen catching the sunlight like liquid fire.
Like twin embers, her crimson eyes swept across the crowd, meeting every gaze briefly before people instinctively looked away.
Something was unsettling about her stare, a weight that lingered long after her eyes had moved on.
Tok.
She ascended the podium, her movements smooth, deliberate—each step radiating control.
The murmurs died entirely as she reached the center and turned to face them, standing tall like a queen addressing her court.
Ashen leaned forward slightly, his irritation ebbing.
His muscles relaxed against his will, and his lingering anger—born from hours of waiting and the absurdity of his situation—faded like smoke in the wind.
Around him, others shifted uncomfortably, their earlier outrage and fear dulling into uneasy silence.
A chill ran down his spine. His thoughts sharpened as the unnatural sensation took hold.
'She's doing this.'
The realization felt like a jolt of electricity, setting his heart racing even as his emotions remained eerily subdued.
The woman's lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. Her voice, soft yet resonant, carried effortlessly through the room.
"Welcome," she began, her tone calm but unyielding. "To the February selection of the year 2025. My name is Cornelia Arde, and I will be your manager for the foreseeable future."
Her words were measured, each one deliberate. "I will keep this brief because I know you are eager for answers. Questions swirl in your minds—why you are here, why you were chosen, and what fate awaits you."
She allowed the silence to stretch, her eyes scanning the crowd like a predator surveying its prey.
"To address these questions, you must first understand the world you have entered." She paused, her expression hardening. "Our world has two continents: Esperra, the land of your birth, and Seravelle, where you now stand. While you know Esperra, most of you know little of Seravelle apart from its name. Allow me to enlighten you."
Her voice deepened, heavy with warning. "This land is a battlefield—a cursed domain inhabited by supernatural beings. Races that defy reason and logic. Beasts. Demi-humans. Monsters. Some make Lovecraft's nightmares look tame."
The crowd shifted uneasily. Cornelia let the weight of her words settle before continuing.
"For years, humanity has fought a desperate war here. Seravelle is the final line of defense, the barrier keeping these creatures from spilling into Esperra. Without it, your home would be nothing but ash."
Everyone's breath hitched.
The implications were horrifying.
Ashen clenched his fists, his mind racing. 'If what she says is the truth... then things are far worse than anything I imagined.'
Cornelia's voice broke through his thoughts, sharp and unrelenting. "Now, for the question that burns brightest in your minds: why are you here?"
She paused, her gaze narrowing. "You were brought here for one purpose and one purpose only: to fight."
There was a momentary silence after Cornelia finished her declaration as if everyone was still processing her words.
Then, as if orchestrated, the crowd erupted in the same instant.
A girl, barely in her twenties, stood, tears streaming down her face. "P-please, send me home! I've never fought before—I don't even know how to hold a weapon!"
Another voice shouted from the back. "This is insane! We're not soldiers—we can't fight your war!"
Shouts of fear and protest kept getting thrown around. The chaos grew even larger.
One might think that things would spiral out of control now, but they'd have deeply underestimated Cornelia.
She raised her hand, and the outcry was silenced.
"..."
It wasn't because of some kind of respect or that the crowd was instilled with sudden discipline that made this happen.
No.
It was the oppressive weight that returned in full force, heavier this time, pressing their minds into submission.
Pacing around the elevated platform, she gave a slight nod to the crowd.
"I understand your fear," she said, her tone soft as if she hadn't extinguished the crowd's anger with a mere gesture.
"None of you asked for this. None of you wanted to be here. But is this also not your chance? To stand and fight for the survival of your people."
She paused for a second, her pacing halting.
"Or would you let them perish in ignorance?"
Ashen's heart pounded. Around him, despair rippled through the crowd like waves crashing against a fragile shore.
It seemed that the majority were still not in the right frame of mind to think about others, even if they had relatives and friends back in Esperra.
When the pressures eased, the same scene of the earlier chaos was almost replicated.
Only, now everyone was more frantic.
Pleas, cries, and desperate shouts filled the air, but Ashen's mind was elsewhere. Cornelia's words had painted a grim picture, one he couldn't push aside.
'This isn't just about us,' he realized, his jaw tightening.