She’d start to lift herself off the ground and then a piercing ripple of agony would course through her back and she’d find her head in the dirt right where she’d started moments ago.

The arena audience was chanting Sybil’s name like she’d already won.

Maybe Sybil was right, she thought to herself. It’s not like her parents knew what to do with her once they found out she had a trait. That she’d maybe become a climber. They couldn’t even afford the basic supplies someone like her would need.

But they had believed in her. Not everyone had.

The group of kids who she thought she was going to grow up with turned their back on her. She was no longer one of them once she had unlocked her profile and trait, but she didn’t feel like she fit in with the climber society of the tower-zone either.

Early on she had realized she needed to forge her own path.

Was this really the end of that path? Losing when she’d gotten so close.

Screw that!

She wasn’t going to quit that easily.

Casey’s body ached but she slowly pushed herself off the ground, gritting her teeth as she fought through the pain.

She got on her knees and then with a slight wobble she was back on her feet.

The whole arena gasped.

Casey had just defied what had been expected of her. To lie down and take defeat. Accept the hierarchy of fake-veins and pure-veins and all that hogwash.

“You fool,” said Sybil. “I gave you a chance to escape brutal pain, but I guess fake-veins really are dumber than the rest of us. Prepare to enter a realm of torture unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.”

Casey wiped blood off her lip and grinned with new determination.

“Bring it on,” she said back.

83

Sakura put her hands on the glass window, overlooking the match.

Casey—Max’s friend—had just got up after taking a devastating hit from the Westley girl.

“So, the girl got up in the end,” said Samuel. “How interesting.”

Sakura bristled at his words. He knew better than to speak vile obscenities about fake-veins and pure-veins in front of her and the climber president, but that was exactly what he was thinking.

The man was obviously rooting for Sybil Westley to win; no, she thought, rooting would suggest he thought Sybil’s victory wasn’t already the inevitable outcome.

The arrogance pissed her off. It was all the same with these old prestigious families and their rare traits. They thought they were so much better than the rest of them.

Sakura quickly glanced at the door to the private room they were in.

The other branch commanders still hadn’t shown up. Samuel was the only one who answered when she had tried phoning them.

Where were they?

What’s going on?