Ty glanced to his side, seeing Yagrid with his arms crossed, and Alexander a few spots down, both standing with a mix of impatience and determination. The unease in the air was thick. His mind wandered, thoughts flickering to his conversation with Waddle, the revelation about Jade. He swallowed hard.
Suddenly, the ground in front of them began to rumble, and Ty blinked, snapping his attention back to the present mont. He watched as the floor itself shifted, giving way to a rising platform. A stage began to erge, lifting higher, inch by inch, until it finally locked into place. Upon it stood General Omina, flanked by a few others dressed in suits—officials, he presud, though he didn't recognize their faces.
Ty raised an eyebrow, his lips curling slightly in a bemused smile. "Did they just co out of the ground or sothing?" he thought to himself, stifling a chuckle. It was like so weird magic show—except, you know, with actual lives at stake.
General Omina took a step forward, her eyes scanning over the crowd before settling into a firm expression. She raised a microphone, her voice ringing out clearly over the gathered contestants. "Before we get started, I want to congratulate each and every one of you for making it this far. You've fought, you've endured, and you have remained in the competition despite the challenges thrown your way."
Her gaze was piercing, his words heavy. Ty could see the exhaustion in the faces of those around him. But there was also sothing else—determination, defiance. They had all co here with their own reasons, their own burdens.
"I understand," General Omina continued, "that so of you are here by choice, and others... were forced. But I promise you, if you make it to the end, you will have a new life ahead of you—a life you never dread was possible. So stay the course. Do your best. Push yourself to the very end."
There was a murmur in the line. Ty exchanged glances with Rosana, who gave him a small nod. The tension was almost suffocating, but it was also electric. They all knew what was coming—the real fight was about to begin.
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General Omina straightened up, lifting his chin. "Stage Two will begin shortly," he announced, her voice sharp and clear. "From this point forward, only ten of you will move on to Stage Three.
Ty felt a shiver run down his spine as the realization hit him: 24 people left ant over half of them would need to die. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered how easy it would be to just let loose, to unleash everything and try to escape. A flicker of red caught the edge of his vision, but he turned his head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it had co. No, not now—just play along for now.
General Omina clapped her hands together, her voice ringing out, "Keep those bright smiles, everyone! The caras are about to start rolling." The glint in her eyes and her sharp smile spoke of sothing more sinister beneath the façade. Ty barely had ti to react before the ground beneath him opened up, and he felt the sensation of falling. He managed to catch the edge of the wall, his fingertips brushing rough stone. A brief instinct to resist flared, but he shrugged, loosening his grip and letting himself fall. "Just play along," he reminded himself.
The world went dark for a mont, his senses overwheld by the disorienting drop. He landed on his knee with a muted thud, the air crisp and biting against his skin. Ty blinked, his eyes adjusting as he looked around—a frozen tundra stretched in all directions, white and unyielding. He was in a room, a massive one, with walls he could barely make out, nearly a mile in each direction. The cold gnawed at him imdiately, the frost settling on his skin, the air raw in his throat.
The quiet was broken by a sudden flicker, and Ty's stomach twisted with a mix of annoyance and disgust. A face appeared on a giant screen, hovering in the middle of the tundra—a face he recognized. It was smug, the sneering kind of arrogance that Ty would have loved to burn away with his flas.
"Hello again, Demon," ca the voice—grating and all too familiar. "At first, I was sad to see you survived the first stage. But," 2nd Lt Heissman paused, drawing out each word as if savoring them, "I was given a chance to draw up Stage Two—the escape dungeons. And I requested specifically to get you, to make sure your death would be... morable."
Ty's hands clenched involuntarily, mories flashing of his ti in that cell. He could still sll the stench of that place, still rember the twisted look on Heissman's face. Ty didn't say a word, keeping his expression blank as his eyes flickered around, noticing drones buzzing above—no doubt showcasing all of this to the world.
"So escape room," Ty muttered to himself, his breath fogging in the cold. He looked at the tundra, the seemingly endless expanse of white, and considered it. "A frozen wasteland? I could just lt this to nothing." The idea had a certain appeal—to turn this place into nothing but steam.
Before he could act on it, Heissman's voice crackled again, his image looming on the screen. "You will have thirty minutes to escape from here. There are keys scattered throughout—but only one of them opens the true exit. Should you fail, you will be put to death by the King himself." The man sneered, his tone dripping with mockery. "If you weren't a filthy criminal, you'd just be disqualified. Sent back ho with a nice little parade, a pat on the back for lasting this long. But no, not for you. How pathetic, also, and one last thing, if you were to lt everything, the ground beneath you will lt and two layers is a pool of acid that will lt almost anything including the keys.
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