Ark leaves the Blue State behind, his feet sinking into the soft earth of the Green State. The air is fresh, laced with the sweet scent of herbs, and the pale stone buildings glisten with moss in their cracks. Green banners flutter in the wind, and smaller torches with emerald flames cast gentle shadows along the path. He adjusts his dark blue hoodie, the hood falling slightly over his brown eyes, and follows the stream of participants, his heart already heavy.

  At the center, a small figure waits within a ring of wildflowers. An elderly woman with wrinkled pale skin and long gray hair tied into loose braids stands there. Her green tunic, with a long skirt brushing her heels, sways lightly. Her nearly blind white eyes glow with a gentle warmth—she "sees" more with Chi than with vision.

  "Welcome to the Green State," she says, her voice soft yet firm, like a nurturing grandmother. "I am Ulina, Toker of Antar. We tend to the wounded—it is what we do best."

  She smiles, deepening the wrinkles on her face, and the crowd applauds, some raising their fists in salute. Ark barely hears them, his thoughts already elsewhere.

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  He slips away toward a simple tent in the back, his chest tight. Inside, Imi lies on an improvised bed, a thin cloth draped over her frail body. Her skin is pale, nearly gray, and her chest rises and falls in shallow, rasping breaths. The Ultra Cancer eats away at her legs—she tries to move them, but a whimper escapes, her brown eyes, the same as Ark’s, squeezing shut in pain.

  "Ark..." she whispers, her weak voice trembling between dry coughs.

  He kneels beside her, grasping her small, cold hand.

  "I’m here, Imi. I won’t leave you."

  She forces a smile, her face hollowed by the illness.

  "You… you made it to the festival?" she asks, coughing again.

  Ark nods, his fists pressing against the ground.

  "Yes. And I’m going to win. You’ll be okay."

  Imi squeezes his hand—weak, but firm.

  "Be careful with Chi... sometimes it comes at a cost," she murmurs, her blurred gaze fixed on him.

  Ark frowns—he knows that, having grown up studying the elements and the power they grant.

  "I know, Imi. But I don’t have a choice."

  The healer Tokers have already warned him: her time is running out.

  He stands, his chest burning.

  "If I hesitate, she won’t make it," he thinks, his expression hardening. Every test matters now.

  Outside, a bell tolls, summoning the participants to the next stage. Ark casts one last look at Imi, silently promising her, then rushes out.

  The Red State awaits—the battles are about to begin.