Agatha, as usual, was in her white room—the place where she could observe the flow of the Selection Stage through several floating monitors in front of her. She sat on a large, comfortable sofa, which she considered one of the few luxuries she could enjoy alone while doing this job.
She watched the people struggling to survive, facing the various scenarios thrown at them in the Selection Stage. They moved with desperation, fear, and anger—emotions she fully understood. It was only natural for anyone suddenly thrown into such chaos.
Once, she used to enjoy watching this unfold. She would even laugh at those poor creatures suffering in their struggle. But that amusement had faded ever since she witnessed what happened to Clyde.
Could someone like Clyde appear again in this Selection Stage—or in any of the others being carried out by the other World Masters?
She used to think it was impossible. But now, she wasn't so sure. The possibility was always there.
