March 20, 2026 – 10:30 AM PST

  The day before the final round should have been a moment of rest, but for Team EVO, it was anything but. Their private workspace in the Hyperion complex was filled with screens, notes, and the lingering pressure of what lay ahead. The Unseen Crisis. No rules, no predefined obstacles—just pure, real-time chaos.

  Esterio sat at the workstation, eyes locked on EVO's internal logs. That pattern he had seen—it still nagged at him. The same feeling of familiarity lingered, but he still couldn't pinpoint where he'd encountered it before. His mind replayed every competition, every AI model he'd worked on, but the answer remained elusive.

  Elliot broke the silence. "Alright, game plan time. If we're going into a completely unknown scenario, we need to give EVO the best possible starting conditions."

  Marcus nodded. "We can't predict the crisis, but we can prepare EVO for adaptive response. The biggest weakness of most AIs is that they rely on predefined data structures. We've already trained EVO beyond that, but this will be the ultimate test."

  Elliot crossed his arms. "Hyperion isn't just watching for an AI that reacts. They're watching for an AI that can take control. If EVO doesn't just survive but actually shapes the crisis outcome, we win."

  Esterio looked up. "Then we need to ensure EVO understands something beyond just efficiency. It needs to make decisions that are strategic, ethical, and adaptive. Hyperion won't just judge survival—they'll judge how it survives."

  A silence followed. It was a heavy realization.

  Marcus leaned back. "So we're training an AI to think like a leader, not just a problem solver. That's… ambitious."

  Elliot grinned. "You mean impossible. But that's what makes it fun."

  Later in the afternoon, the team decided to step out of their workspace for a break. The Hyperion competitor's lounge was buzzing with activity. Every remaining team was in preparation mode—some intensely programming, others in deep discussion, trying to find an edge.

  Nathaniel Briggs from Stanford sat with his team, seemingly in debate over decision-making frameworks. Kenji Tanaka from Tokyo Tech was sketching on a digital tablet, mapping out adaptive neural pathways. Across the room, Cambridge's Sentinel Team was analyzing real-world crisis simulations—economic collapses, cyberattacks, and geopolitical destabilization scenarios.

  Elliot nudged Marcus. "Looks like we're not the only ones thinking long-term strategy."

  Marcus nodded. "Stanford's focused on decision trees. Tokyo Tech is focusing on deep learning adaptability. And Cambridge? They're probably the most dangerous in terms of raw crisis modeling."

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  "And what about us?" Elliot smirked. "Where do we stand?"

  Esterio finally spoke. "We're doing something different. We're training EVO to be more than a system—it needs to be an entity."

  Kenji overheard and glanced their way. "Interesting approach," he said, walking over. "But that also means you're introducing complexity. An AI that thinks independently might not always choose the logical option. Can you control that?"

  Elliot shrugged. "Control is overrated. Guidance, on the other hand… that's where we come in."

  Kenji studied them for a moment before smirking. "I look forward to seeing how that plays out."

  With evening approaching, the team took a breather, heading to one of the upper terraces of the Hyperion Grand Complex, an architectural marvel built into the heart of Los Angeles. The skyline pulsed with holographic billboards, self-navigating drones, and high-speed maglev transport systems weaving through towering skyscrapers. The city was a testament to the future Hyperion envisioned—automated, efficient, and meticulously optimized.

  As they took in the view, Elliot spotted a figure leaning against the railing, sipping a cocktail. Dark sunglasses, perfectly styled hair, and an effortlessly expensive suit. The man exuded confidence, his presence somehow both casual and commanding.

  Elliot elbowed Marcus. "Okay, tell me this guy doesn't look like he owns half the city."

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. "He does give off 'rich playboy who doesn't belong here' vibes."

  The man turned toward them, flashing a charming yet enigmatic smile. "Enjoying the view? Or just trying to figure out what comes next?"

  Esterio studied him. Something about the way he spoke… he wasn't just a spectator.

  Elliot shrugged. "A little of both. And you are?"

  The man chuckled, adjusting his sunglasses with an exaggerated flourish. "Names? So overrated. Just call me 'Handsome Devil' or maybe 'The Guy You Wish You Were.'" He smirked. "But honestly, do names even matter?"

  Marcus frowned slightly, studying him. "You look… weirdly familiar. Like I've seen you somewhere before, but I can't place it."

  The man simply smiled, swirling the liquid in his glass. "Maybe. Maybe not. I just love dropping by when things get spicy. You ever notice how the real game is never the one being broadcast?"

  Esterio narrowed his eyes. "And how exactly do you know that?"

  The man took a slow sip of his drink. "Let's just say, I have a habit of being where the interesting things happen. And right now? You're very interesting."

  Before they could respond, he casually checked his watch. "Well, I'll leave you to your existential AI dilemmas. Just remember—sometimes the real game isn't the one they tell you about."

  With that, the man walked away, disappearing into the lounge crowd.

  Elliot turned to the others. "Okay, that guy was way too smooth for someone who just 'dropped by.'"

  Marcus shook his head. "No idea. But I hate that he somehow makes me feel underdressed."

  Esterio stared at where the man had disappeared, his mind running through possibilities. Who exactly was he? And how much did he really know?

  As the evening set in, the team sat together at their workstation one last time before the final round. Outside, the Hyperion campus was alive with activity—media interviews, last-minute technical tests, and engineers preparing for what would be the biggest AI test in history.

  Esterio stared at EVO's final pre-competition diagnostic. Everything was optimal. And yet, that feeling remained.

  Marcus stretched. "Well, gentlemen, I suggest we get at least some sleep before we're locked in for 48 hours."

  Elliot laughed. "Sleep? You're funny."

  Esterio smirked but didn't respond. His mind was still locked on the puzzle of EVO's last sequence.

  As the team left their workspace, he stole one last glance at the screen.

  Somewhere deep in EVO's core processing, that unreadable line of code remained.

  Waiting.

  March 21, 2026 – 8:59 AM PST

  One Minute to Round Three.