Mr. Halden stared at Lucas, still throwing punches at empty air, his face twisted with effort, sweat pouring down his temples.
After a few more seconds of watching the bizarre display, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Alright," he muttered. Then, louder so the whole room could hear, he spoke, "The match is over. Ethan Nocturne is the winner."
The announcement echoed across the training facility.
Silence.
Then came the sudden wave of voices.
"Seriously?"
"What? He didn't do anything!"
"Wait, what's going on?"
"He can't win! That's not fair!"
"Lucas didn't lose. He didn't even move."
"Why does that matter? We saw it, right?"
"That wasn't a real match."
"It doesn't count!"
"That was boring!"
Ethan glanced toward the audience.
There were dozens of faces. Disappointed. Frustrated. Even angry.
Everyone turned to Ethan, who simply shrugged.
