Morning arrives with the artificial precision that defines Central Arena, simulated sunlight gradually illuminating our quarters as if someone's turning up a dimmer switch. I haven't slept, the humiliation of defeat and Ember's impending departure keeping my mind racing despite the physical exhaustion.

  When I enter the common area, Eli is already there, his gravity field more stable than I've seen since our arrival, forming complex patterns around a series of small objects that orbit his hands with perfect control.

  "You've been practicing," I observe, noting the improvement in his ability despite yesterday's injuries.

  "Guild training," he replies without looking up, maintaining his concentration on the orbiting objects. "The Independent Collective accepted my application last night. Their gravity specialists helped me recalibrate my neural pathways."

  The words hit like a punch to my already damaged ribs. "You too?"

  Eli finally looks up, the orbiting objects settling into a stable pattern around his wrist. "I'm not leaving Team Exodus," he says quickly. "The guild doesn't require exclusive contracts, I can maintain team affiliation while accessing their resources."

  "What kind of resources?" I ask, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

  "Training protocols, equipment access, environmental simulation chambers," he lists, the objects changing formation with subtle movements of his fingers. "They have gravity manipulators from three different species, Gary. People who've been developing these abilities for years, decades even. The things they can teach me..."

  "Sounds like you've made up your mind," I respond, the disappointment clear in my tone.

  "The entire team could join," he counters, letting the orbiting objects settle onto the table. "The Independent Collective is different from the big sponsor groups. It's a guild of independents who shares resources, knowledge, and develop together without the rigid control structure of traditional sponsorship."

  "And where do these resources come from?" I argue. "Everything comes with strings attached."

  Eli sighs, frustration evident in the slight wobble of his gravity field. "Yes, some of the members have contracts with independent sponsors, but not with the big consortium groups! Individual patrons who provide resources in exchange for showing their logo or whatever. It's a middle ground, Gary. Independence with the support needed to actually survive in this place."

  "So you're moving into guild quarters?" I ask, realizing his decision is already final.

  He nods, the gravity field expanding slightly with what might be excitement despite the tension between us. "Today. I'm still on Team Exodus for matches, assuming we get anymore after that disaster yesterday, but I'll be training with the guild, learning from people who actually know what they're doing in Central Arena."

  "This team was supposed to be different," I remind him, anger mixing with disappointment. "We were going to show that independents could succeed without compromising."

  "And we got our asses handed to us in four minutes," he counters sharply. "Look, I want freedom too, but I've got to get stronger first. The guild gives me that chance without completely selling out. It's the best compromise available."

  The argument circles without resolution, both of us maintaining our positions. By midday, Eli has packed his few possessions and moved to the Independent Collective's quarters in another sector of Central Arena. Ember completes her transfer to the Pyrokinetic Guild without another word to me, leaving without a goodbye.

  Team Exodus, once four, is now effectively reduced to two, just Desta and me remaining in quarters designed for a full team.

  Days pass in a strange limbo. No match notifications arrive, as if Central Arena's administrators are waiting to see whether Team Exodus will even continue to exist. My tablet occasionally pings with messages from Eli:

  "Going to the Labyrinth of Shifting Paths tomorrow with guild mentors. Impossible to access this place without some sponsorship."

  And later:

  "Just returned from the Verdant Crucible. It's this massive forest zone. Learned more about gravitational field manipulation in one day than I did in weeks at the facility."

  The messages grow less frequent over time, updates becoming shorter, the excitement in his words replaced by matter-of-fact statements about his progress. The gap between us widens with each passing day, Eli developing under guild guidance while I remain in our increasingly empty quarters, stubbornly independent and increasingly isolated.

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  Recruitment offers continue to flood in, though they begin to shift in nature. The prestigious sponsor groups and established guilds gradually lose interest as my refusals pile up, replaced by smaller organizations, minor guilds, and increasingly desperate-sounding independent sponsors.

  One week after our defeat, Desta approaches me as I'm reviewing combat footage from successful independent assets, searching for strategies that might work without sponsor resources.

  "Message receipt frequency from specific independent sponsor has exceeded statistical probability thresholds," she announces, her eyes briefly flickering with code patterns. "Persistence parameters suggest unusual motivation factors beyond standard recruitment protocols."

  She hands me her tablet, displaying a series of increasingly urgent messages from someone identifying themselves as Zix'ilit, an independent sponsor seeking contract arrangement with remaining Team Exodus members.

  The first message is formal, professional: "Independent Sponsor Zix'ilit extends contractual opportunity to Team Exodus assets. Performance metrics indicate significant potential despite initial setback. Terms available upon request."

  But as the days passed, the tone changed dramatically:

  "Zix'ilit reaching out again regarding potential sponsorship arrangement. Flexible terms available, minimal developmental oversight requirements. Please respond at earliest convenience."

  Then growing increasingly casual:

  "Hello? Is this communication channel functional? Zix'ilit here, still VERY interested in sponsoring Team Exodus. Would appreciate acknowledgment of message receipt."

  The latest message abandons all pretense of formality:

  "PLEASE RESPOND! Zix'ilit desperate for assets to sponsor. New to independent sponsorship program, need assets to establish credibility in Central Arena hierarchy. Can't offer extensive resources initially but MAXIMUM FREEDOM in contract terms! Will meet ANY reasonable conditions! Message indicator shows you've viewed these communications sixteen times without response which seems statistically improbable without technological malfunction so PLEASE JUST ANSWER."

  I can't help but laugh at the increasingly frantic tone. "This guy sounds desperate."

  "Analysis indicates newly established sponsor status with minimal current asset portfolio," Desta observes. "Resource allocation capabilities likely limited compared to established sponsors. However, contractual flexibility potential significantly higher due to reduced leverage position."

  "In other words, he can't offer much but he'll let us do whatever we want because he needs us more than we need him," I translate, studying the profile image attached to the messages.

  Zix'ilit appears to be a small, vaguely reptilian alien with large, expressive eyes and colorful frills that shift between yellow and blue in the animated profile. Something about the creature seems almost comically earnest, like an eager puppy rather than an imposing sponsor.

  "Persistence indicates genuine interest despite our defeat against Team Brute Force," Desta notes. "Most established recruitment efforts have ceased following continued refusal responses."

  She's right. The flood of offers has slowed to a trickle, most sponsors and guilds concluding that Team Exodus is either disbanding or too stubborn to be worth the effort. This Zix'ilit character is one of the few still actively pursuing us.

  "With Ember's departure to Pyrokinetic Guild and Eli's affiliation with Independent Collective, Team Exodus requires additional resources to maintain competitive viability," Desta continues, her typically neutral tone carrying an undertone of urgency. "Available options have decreased by approximately 87% since initial arrival at Central Arena."

  I stare at the message thread, weighing our increasingly limited options. Independence seemed so clear-cut at the facility, but Central Arena operates by different rules. Equipment, information, training protocols, all the things that allowed Team Brute Force to dismantle us so efficiently, remain beyond our reach without some form of sponsorship or guild affiliation.

  "What would a contract with an independent sponsor even look like?" I ask, more thinking aloud than expecting an answer.

  "Typical independent sponsorship contracts include equipment allocation, training resource access, and information sharing in exchange for representing sponsor designation during combat engagements," Desta explains. "Contract terms demonstrate significant variation based on sponsor resources and asset leverage position."

  "And this Zix'ilit character is clearly new to the game, which means he'd be willing to offer better terms just to get started," I muse, reading through the increasingly desperate messages again.

  The choice isn't ideal, but our options are dwindling by the day. Team Exodus can't compete in Central Arena without resources, and those resources aren't available to true independents. An inexperienced sponsor desperate for assets might represent the best compromise, minimal control with at least some access to the tools we need.

  "Respond to Zix'ilit," I decide finally. "Tell him Team Exodus is willing to discuss contract terms, but our priority remains independence and freedom. We're not becoming anyone's puppets, even if they have the fanciest strings in Central Arena."

  Desta's eyes flicker with code patterns as she composes the response. "Message transmitted. Response received immediately. Zix'ilit requests meeting at neutral exchange hub to discuss potential arrangement."

  I nod, wondering if I'm making the right choice or simply the only one left available. Team Exodus came to Central Arena to prove independents could win their freedom without compromise. Now, facing the harsh reality of this place, even I have to admit that some adaptation is necessary.

  A small, desperate independent sponsor might be our last chance to maintain some version of what Team Exodus was meant to be, a path to freedom on our own terms, not those dictated by the system that captured us.