Beth Harmon stepped into the tournament room, her sharp eyes immediately locking onto her opponent, who was already seated, studying the chessboard with intense focus. The air was thick with tension, the quiet murmur of other players in the background only adding to the weight of the moment. Beth's mind was already racing, strategizing, but outwardly she was calm and collected, as always.

She moved with purpose, approaching the table with a quiet confidence that turned heads. Her opponent, still lost in thought, didn’t notice her at first. Beth stopped by the board, taking a moment to study it herself before she extended her hand.

“You?” she asked, her voice smooth but carrying the kind of authority that demanded attention.

The person glanced up, startled by the sudden presence of the chess prodigy standing across from them. For a split second, surprise flashed across their face, but they quickly masked it, reaching out to meet Beth's hand in a firm shake.

There was a brief pause as their eyes locked. Beth’s gaze was steady, unflinching. It was the kind of look that told you she wasn’t here to play around. This was her territory, her game. The tension between them felt palpable, like the whole room was waiting for what would come next.