Just when it seemed like the situation might escalate, a collective rustle came from the back of the gym. Six figures stood, their movements synchronized with a precision that spoke loads about their identity. Navy SEALs. The insignia on their uniforms was unmistakable, as were the expressions of steely resolve on their faces.

They navigated the crowded rows with ease, parting the sea of seated spectators until they reached Solomon’s side. The lead SEAL, a man with a commanding presence and eyes that seemed to weigh the worth of one’s soul, addressed the guards in a voice that brooked no argument. “I think there’s been a mistake here. This man has earned his place.”