As all the guilds stepped through, the announcement started to go off. At first, it was static, as if the girl on the other end had messed up the microphone or the speaker, or maybe both, but after a little bit of struggle, with the world halting as the announcer took a short break, then reemerged after figuring it out.

"Sorry about that, folks. Some technical issues had occurred, and you can blame Oliver here for that." From the other side, two voices emerged, arguing cartoonishly, which made the mode dull even more, as people wanted to get started with the tournament.

"Anyways, welcome back, folk, to the second-last stage of the Tournament, where the ten guilds will compete against one another and only five may survive. Welcome to The Grand Melee. Guilds will have one-on-one battles until only five guilds survive. The objective is to destroy another team's Soul Crystal, which unites the entire team into one being. After the crystal is destroyed, the winning team moves on to the final. But there is also a twist: the Soul Crystals give random effects to the team; they may be good, or they may be bad. It's a gamble for the guilds. Now then, let the tournament start. Good luck, guilds."

All the guilds were teleported to their arenas, with a blue crystal behind them, which was the Soul Crystal. All the guild members were told to touch it to gain a random effect. As everyone touched it, the American Guild hesitated.

Nova was concerned that if the effect was bad, it could severely put the team at risk. He prayed with Elesch to Father, but on the other end, only one being heard it. Apollo.

As all the effects came into place, the American Guild was the only one to get a bad effect. The crystal's light darkened to a violet, with veins of black energy crawling through it like ink in water.

"Oh, that's unfortunate! Looks like our dear American Guild drew a bad hand. Their Soul Crystal's effect is, let me check, ah! 'The Mirror of Burden.' That's rough, folks."

The ground beneath Nova's feet trembled. Everyone in the guild felt it, a strange pull inside their chests, as though something sacred had been inverted.

Elesch gasped. "Nova… our power-!"

He could feel it too. Their mana streams, usually synchronized and fluid, were distorted. Every time they gathered energy, it rebounded, not back into them, but magnified and mirrored.

The announcer elaborated, voice echoing across the digital sky: "For the American Guild, every time they use their abilities, their ability will reflect twice its strength-" Cheers erupted in the crowd. "-but here's the catch. The reflection strikes them first. So unless they can endure their own power, they'll burn themselves before touching their enemy. Talk about self-sabotage!"

A pause. Static again. Then the girl added, almost softly: "...though, if they find a way to redirect that power, they might turn this curse into a weapon. If they survive long enough."

The grace period was over. It was now time for the main event. The American Guild was against the Nigerian Guild. The Nigerian Guild had gotten the effect of extra strength, was could put the American Guild into a lot of trouble, if they didn't tread lightly.

"So, if I use my daggers and slash someone, I get twice the damage they get back to me, which isn't good. But I guess try not to use your abilities and rely solely on martial arts and your normal speed. Unless you think you can handle the backlash."

Everyone nodded, then got into formation as a giant bell through the five arenas. The American guild was divided into three parts. The first part was the offense, which was only covered by Nova, with Adam and Elesch being the second part, the flanks, and Zane and Michael being on the defensive.

Adam used his hands, mimicking his claws, to climb up a tree, as Elesch flanked Nova, who ran through the middle of the arena, which was colossal.

The arena was a wilderness contained within a golden dome. Above, the sky was a projection: a radiant mix of aurora-like light and holographic clouds that glowed faintly with runic circurity, reflecting the energy of the Soul Crystal embedded in each guild.

The terrain was semi-randomized, designed to challenge both strategy and adaptability. The American Guild's battleground resembled a dense jungle valley, humid air thick with the smell of damp moss and iron-rich soil.

Towering trees stretched upward like cathedral pillars, their canopies a tangled web of vines that pulsed faintly with bioluminescence. The leaves shimmered faintly blue under the artificial sunlight, and when brushed, they emitted small sparks of mana.

The ground was uneven and deceptive. Pockets of soft loam gave way to patches of obsidian-like stone that reflected light like black glass. Hidden underbrush provided both cover and traps, mana-reactive flora that could detonate or constrict if stepped on carelessly.

In the center stood a ruined obelisk, cracked and half-buried, runes glowing with residual energy, likely a relic from whatever digital architect designed this "stage."

Around the perimeter, faint spectral barriers marked the arena's boundaries, humming with energy that rippled like disturbed water when struck.

Beyond them, the blurred silhouettes of other arenas could be seen in the distance, different environments, different struggles, all under the same dome.

The Soul Crystal of the American Guild hovered behind their formation on a raised basalt platform, glowing a deep violet.

It pulsed in time with the guild's collective heartbeat, each throb releasing a faint distortion in the air, an almost gravitational pull that tugged faintly at the senses, like something alive and watching.

Across the field, through the shifting mist, the Nigerian Guild's formation stood poised within a clearing of volcanic rock, their own crystal gleaming with a fierce, molten orange. The air around them shimmered with heat and vitality, a visible aura of the buff they had drawn.

And then, silence.

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