Villain Retirement

[20 Spawn Points, 100 Groups in Each, The 1st rule is simple…

…Fight until only 1 group remains in each Spawn Point.]

"So, there are 500 of us here, and 10,000 people in total."

"Fuck that. Did those giants just fucking throw us into a battle royale where everyone seemed to have it out for us!?"

"Hm…"

Bernard's helmet that has been folding and unfolding several times now finally settled on just covering his face. How could he not, when everyone's eyes were now once again locked onto him and the other Earthlings?

"...I suppose they placed the other Higher Races in another area. They really are treating this like a game—a rigged one."

"Rigged…?" Tempo slightly took a step back closer to the group as the crowd started to surround them. None of the other groups were talking to each other, but there seemed to be some sort of invisible sense of camaraderie as they truly were only targeting Earth,

"...You mean they want us so-called Higher Races to win?" Tempo awkwardly forced out a chuckle, "And I don't really like the term Higher Races, my race was oppressed by someone who treated themselves as such for more than a hundred years."

"Stop crying, you weren't even alive then," Hera scoffed.

"Are you really trying to invalidate my feelings again? This is why we split up."

"No, we split up because you only think about what you like and what you want."

"No, we split up because you're always unavailable. Out of all the things on your list of priorities, I'm at the lowest—no, I'm not even in it."

"Bullshit, you—"

"Guys, what the fuck!?" Hannah once again stood between the two, "Can we just fucking focus!?"

"The girl is right," Bulwark, like Bernard, was also already ready for combat as the light being emitted from his body has been flickering ever since the Messenger's first word, "I know that it is important to talk about your failed relationship, but you need to focus on the now."

"How can I focus when Whiteking just said this Tournament is rigged! Did they set us up to just die here!?" Tempo's head moved so fast as he looked at the other champions that it looked like his head just turned into a purple cylinder block.

"No," Whiteking shook his head, "This game is rigged, but not in a way that is disadvantageous for us."

"Huh? What do you—"

[These are the rules you will follow.]

And as everyone was getting ready for battle, the voices of the Messengers once again resounded throughout the entire flat planet,

[Proceed with as much violence as you can, but do not take another life. You can bring the other champions to the brink of death but do not send them to it. And for those that gain wounds that would threaten their life, do not fret. You will be warped out of the battlefield and treated back to health…

…That is all. The elimination will begin with the sound of thunder.]

"That's… it?" Tempo took in a small gulp, "Did the other groups even understand what they said? They were speaking our language, do the others even know what thunder is…?"

"Stop being such a country hick and get used to it already," Hera rolled her eyes, "They have like a universal translator thingy or something."

"What's the plan here, Whiteking!?" Tempo completely ignored Hera as he just stood behind Bernard, "You have like that Guardian Force power now, right? I heard you folks can detect energy levels like in the cartoons. What's… our chances here?"

"Chances?" Whiteking did not even turn his head as he responded to Tempo, "I just told you, this game is rigged for us. We—"

"Everyone, don't let them get any chance to attack!"

And before Bernard could finish his words, the sound of thunder reverberated through the empty sky of the flat planet, signaling the start of battle.

"What do we do!? What's the plan!?"

"Bulwark," and instead of a plan, Bernard just uttered a single name. And while the thunder signaled the start of the battle…

…Bulwark's name signaled the end of it.

The sound of thunder was not even done echoing, but the Spawn Point in which Earth was on was now surrounded by an ocean of golden light. An ocean, perhaps almost literally as it drowned everything and everyone it blanketed.

And at the end of the thunder, everyone and everything was gone.

"This round is just a courtesy, Tempo," Bulwark snapped his fingers, causing the ocean of light to wither away, "A way not to be rude to the other races and let them participate at the start—it is already quite obvious that the Tournament's stage is for the Higher Races."

"Well…" Bernard shook his head, "...I think differently. They did this to show the other races how strong we actually are, to show why we belong to the Higher Races, and remind them of our differences. Remember, the entire Known Universe is watching right now…

…Let's make ourselves known."

[Spawn Points 1, 2, and 14—Victors have been decided. Get ready to be transported to the next arena.]

"3…" Tempo looked at the Messengers as they once again spoke, "...I'm guessing the other two are Megawoman's group and the Evaniels?"

"Wait, we didn't even fucking get to warm up!?" Hannah batted her eyes as she looked at the now empty field, "You should have at least left a group or two, Bulwark!"

"I doubt those guys would have been a warm-up for any of us," Hera just sighed as she replaced the sunglasses she was wearing with a bigger one, "And if you fought, then we would have probably been disqualified for someone."

"Wha—Excuse me? My control is fucking awesome!"

"That's not what I meant," Hera scoffed, "I am not saying this to sound arrogant or confident, but the supers from Earth are… too strong for most of the other species. I realized this when I went on a little space escapade with your psychopath brother."

"...So I was worried for nothing?" Tempo let out a sigh of relief, "So, is it only the themarians and the Evaniels we need to worry about?"

"I don't think so," Bernard shook his head as he started looking around, "The themarians and evaniels are there."

He then pointed at two locations, each on the other side of the flat planet, "But I sense different surges of energy on all the 20 Spawn Points, the number of races belonging to the Higher Races should not exceed 10… so no, Tempo…"

And before Bernard could finish his words, his and the other's visions suddenly shifted—what was once an empty field that surrounded them, now a lavish and vast hall that exuded a weird… vibrance. Weird in a way that only parts of the hall were lit up, with the parts having a completely different aesthetic from the other lit-up areas. A different floor, a different table, and even different plates.

…We need to worry about everyone that wins this round."

"Well, well—Look who the broken leg dragged in, the Humans."

And one of the areas that happened to be lit up… were shining on the Evaniels. And the other, a group of people covered completely in robes.