The Small Room

Reyna wasn’t a badge of confidence anymore. She was a tool for Force Buy rounds when the team needed one duel to collapse a defense. Even Omen made sense now. If the team was short a piece, a duelist who could fill a smoke role without panicking was worth more than another ego swing. The change showed up slowly. Their scrims stopped looking like five separate players taking turns. Their executes became layered. Their post-plants came with second options. Their retakes had order: one player took utility, another held the trade, another saved a piece of control for the last defender. Mason was still the sharpest gun on the roster, but he stopped trying to prove it every round. He started waiting. Reading.