The meeting room was cramped and dimly lit, hastily assembled in one of the few buildings still standing after the battle. Makeshift benches lined the walls, occupied by the leaders and representatives of each faction—human adventurers, orcs, and now, unexpectedly, members of the elven and dwarven districts.

Akhil sat at the head of a scarred wooden table, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. His arm was bandaged where he'd reopened old wounds during the fight. Ryan sat to his right, his broken arm in a proper sling now. Aria was on his left, moving stiffly due to her wrapped ribs. Nyla stood near the back, arms crossed, her analytical gaze sweeping over everyone present.

J leaned against the wall, his shattered arm carefully splinted. Nibo occupied a corner, too large for the benches. And scattered throughout were other survivors—guild representatives, orc chieftains, and the newcomers from the other districts.

"Let's start from the beginning," Akhil said, his voice hoarse but steady. "For those who weren't there, or who arrived late... I think we all need to understand what actually happened today."

Nyla stepped forward, taking the implicit invitation to speak. "We came here to fight," she began bluntly. "The elven and dwarven districts—we came prepared for war against the humans and orcs."

Murmurs rippled through the room. Several human adventurers tensed, hands moving instinctively toward weapons that weren't there—they'd been required to leave them outside the meeting room.

"Let her speak," Akhil said firmly, and the room quieted.

Nyla nodded her thanks. "Three weeks ago, representatives from what we thought was the human district approached our leaders. They brought evidence—fabricated evidence, as we now know—that the southern district was preparing for a massive offensive. That you were training an army. Building weapons. Planning to conquer the other districts one by one."

"That's absurd," Ryan interjected. "We've been barely surviving, let alone planning invasions."

"We know that now," Nyla replied. "But at the time, the evidence was convincing. Documents detailing troop movements. Witness testimonies from 'refugees' who'd escaped your supposed war preparations. Even magical recordings that appeared to show your leaders discussing conquest."

"Langdon," Akhil breathed, understanding dawning. "It was all Langdon."

"The Titan of Discord," Nyla confirmed, her voice heavy with bitter realization. "Though we didn't know his title then. He presented himself as a concerned human leader trying to warn the other districts before it was too late. He was... convincing. Charismatic. He knew exactly what to say to make us afraid."

An elven woman sitting near the front spoke up, her voice tight with residual anger. "He told the elven council that the humans and orcs had formed an alliance specifically to destroy us. That our magical abilities were seen as too dangerous to be allowed to continue existing."

A dwarven man with a thick beard added his own account. "He told us that the southern district wanted our forges. Our metalworking secrets. That they planned to enslave our craftsmen and steal our techniques."

"He played each district's fears perfectly," Nyla continued. "Told each of us slightly different stories, all pointing to the same conclusion—that we needed to strike first, or be destroyed."

The weight of that manipulation settled over the room like a shroud.

"So you came here," Akhil said slowly, "prepared to attack us. To start a war based on lies."

"Yes." Nyla's jaw tightened. "We gathered our forces—the best fighters from the elven and dwarven districts. We coordinated with what we thought were human allies who would help us 'liberate' the southern district from its warmongering leaders." She laughed bitterly. "We actually thought we were the heroes."

"When did you realize the truth?" Aria asked.

"When we arrived and saw Langdon." Nyla's eyes darkened with the memory. "The moment we got close to the arena, we saw him in that massive mechanical construct, saw those Titans fighting alongside him, and everything clicked into place. The representatives who'd visited us—they'd all mentioned a 'General Lang' who was coordinating the resistance. We'd never seen his face clearly in any of the evidence. Never made the connection."

"Langdon wasn't trying to start a war between districts," Ryan said, understanding spreading across his features. "He was trying to unite them all against us specifically. Make sure we had no allies, no one to turn to."

"And it almost worked," the elven woman added quietly. "If we hadn't arrived when we did, if we'd come a day earlier or later... we might have actually attacked you. Started the exact war Langdon wanted."

"Why though?" Nibo rumbled from his corner. "What did Langdon gain from all this?"

Silence fell as everyone considered the question. Why orchestrate such an elaborate deception? Why pit the districts against each other?

"Control," Aria finally answered. "Or chaos. Perhaps both. The Titan of Discord—the title makes sense now. He didn't want peace. Didn't want cooperation. He wanted us all fighting, all weakened, all desperate. And he was probably being controlled too"

"Making us easier to control or eliminate," Akhil finished. He thought back to what Rao Shin had told him, about the game and its scenarios. "It was part of the scenario design. Create conflict. Force players to fight each other. Thin out the numbers."

Several people shifted uncomfortably at the reminder that they were trapped in a game, that their lives and choices were being manipulated by forces they couldn't see or fight.

"But we survived," J spoke up, his voice rough but determined. "We figured it out. We worked together. We beat him."

"Barely," Aria muttered. "And at great cost."

The reminder of the twenty-three dead cast a pall over the room. Twenty-three people who'd come to watch a tournament, to celebrate, to witness history. Twenty-three people whose consciousnesses were now trapped in the lobby, separated from their bodies, caught between life and death.

"We can't change what happened," Akhil said quietly. "But we can honor them by making sure their sacrifice wasn't in vain. By moving forward. By surviving whatever comes next."

"About that," Ryan interjected. "You mentioned that your contact—Rao—said things might change now. That the scenarios might be different because of what happened. What does that mean?"

Akhil rubbed his face wearily. "I don't know exactly. The message ended before I could get details. But based on what he said about the Blood Monarch appearing prematurely, about the system treating it as an error... I think the game is destabilizing. The scenarios we're facing might not be following the original design anymore."

"Which means we can't predict what's coming," Nyla observed. "Can't prepare based on patterns or logic."

"We'll just have to stay alert," Akhil agreed. "Watch for system notifications. Be ready for anything."

The room fell into contemplative silence, everyone processing the information, trying to imagine what challenges might lie ahead. They'd faced murder scenarios, survival trials, coordinated attacks from multiple fronts, and a Titan of Discord who'd nearly succeeded in destroying them all.

What could possibly be worse?

"There's something else," Nyla said, breaking the silence. Her tone had changed—become more urgent, more concerned. "Something I noticed during the battle, and in the aftermath."

All eyes turned to her. Akhil felt a knot form in his stomach. The way she was looking at him, the careful way she was choosing her words...

"What is it?" he asked.

Nyla pulled out a small device from her pocket—something Akhil recognized as a status reader, used to check player information and scenario progress. It was a special item in the game, like a gold detector that helped one find scenario's to clear and get rewards.

She activated it, and a holographic display flickered to life above the table.

"I've been monitoring the system notifications since we arrived," she explained. "Looking for patterns, trying to understand what we're dealing with." She manipulated the display, bringing up a series of message logs. "And I found something. Something that appeared approximately three hours ago, just as the battle was ending."

She pulled up a specific notification, enlarging it so everyone could see:

[SCENARIO TRANSITION DETECTED]

[SCENARIO 2: THE DISCORD WAR - COMPLETE]

[CALCULATING REWARDS...]

Murmurs rippled through the room. Several people sat up straighter, tension suddenly thick in the air.

"Scenario three is complete?" Ryan said. "So we actually finished it? Even with everything that happened?"

"Apparently killing Langdon and ending the potential war was enough to satisfy the completion conditions," Nyla confirmed. "But that's not what concerns me." She swiped to another notification. "This appeared two hours ago, while we were still treating the wounded."

[SCENARIO 4: THE CONVERGENCE —THE TITAN OF TOURNAMENT'S]

[OBJECTIVE: UNCLEAR]

[TIME LIMIT: UNCLEAR]

[PENALTY: DEATH]

The room erupted.

"What?!"

"Another scenario already?"

"We haven't even recovered from the last one!"

Akhil's voice cut through the chaos. When silence fell, he turned to Nyla. "You're saying the fourth scenario has already started? Right now? While we're sitting here?"

"I think so," Nyla replied grimly. "But here's what really worries me—look at the objective and time limit."

Everyone leaned forward, studying the notification more carefully. The words "UNCLEAR" stood out starkly against the usual detailed instructions scenarios provided.

"I've never seen a scenario like this," the elven woman said. "Usually they're explicit. Clear conditions, clear penalties, clear timeframes."

"Which means either the system is glitching worse than we thought," Nyla said slowly, "or this scenario is fundamentally different from what came before. Which is not going to be good for us"

The weight of her words pressed down on everyone present.

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