We moved into the second waiting room. Compared to the near-empty registration zone, this place was alive—buzzing in its own weird, low-energy way.
There were close to a hundred people here, maybe a bit less, sprawled across rows of reclining seats arranged in tight columns.
It resembled one of those luxury airport lounges… if you stripped out the luxury and left behind an air of quiet dread. Every seat had a personal terminal screen, though most people ignored them.
Instead, eyes were drawn to the massive floating holographic display in front of the room. A semi-transparent 3D projection hovered midair, broadcasting the ongoing round in real time.
The colors were rich and high-definition, but nothing about what I saw looked even remotely like a game.
People weren't just playing.
They were fighting.
Really fighting.
No firearms, no mechs, no overpowered laser cannons. It was all hand-to-hand, blade-to-blade, skill against skill.
