The screen flashed
"Player Count: 267"
"Time Left Until Next Game: 07:30:18"
A soft chime echoed through the Rest Zone, waking some — reminding all.
Lyra opened her eyes, her breath hitching for a second. She had dreamt of ticking clocks… and dead eyes.
But this wasn't a dream.
She was still here.
Still alive.
Still in the game.
She sat up slowly on the thin mattress. The lights were brighter now, no longer the dusky orange of rest, but sterile white.
Reality.
Across the hall, players gathered near the supply stations — rehydrating, patching wounds, scavenging for extra energy bars like every crumb might help them live one game longer.
Kyro stood apart.
Not resting. Not eating. Watching.
Always watching.
Lyra found Rhea sitting on the edge of her cot, bandaging her wrist where the countdown chair had bitten into her skin.
"Sleep?" Lyra asked softly.
"Barely," Rhea muttered. "I kept dreaming about the countdown. I could still hear the numbers in my head…"
"Me too."
They shared a look — the kind where no words are needed because pain already speaks loud enough.
Then came the announcement:
"All Players. Game 6 will begin in 6 hours."
"Use your time wisely."
[STRATEGY HUD – OPEN ACCESS]
A new screen appeared on the main wall.
For the first time, players were given more than survival:
Game Data Archive (Restricted Access)
Player Stats – Anonymous Viewing Enabled
Previous Game Patterns: Accessible
Form Alliances – Temporary Contracts Allowed
"Strategies?" Rhea frowned. "Why now?"
Lyra's eyes narrowed.
"They're not helping us. They're testing us."
And she was right.
A psychological shift.
The real game had begun.
Kyro, meanwhile, wasn't wasting time.
He accessed the Player Stats screen, his fingers moving fast across the interface.
Lyra watched from a distance.
Top 10 Highest Accuracy (Game 5):
1. Player 304 – 96%
2. Player 143 – 92%
3. Player 109 – 91%
4. Player 021 - 87%
5. Player 204 - 86%
6. Player 088 - 85%
7. Player 171 - 84%
8. Player 007 - 83%
9. Player 312 - 82%
10. Player 388 - 81%
Her name. Third.
He glanced back at her once — just a flicker of his silver eyes.
Lyra held the gaze.
Did he already know?
Probably.
Later, in the food zone, he approached again.
"You're smart. That's rare here."
"Flattery from you?" she said flatly.
"I'm not here to flatter. I'm here to propose something."
Lyra tensed.
"A team?" she asked.
"No." He shook his head. "Not a team. A temporary alignment. You and me — don't get each other killed."
She crossed her arms. "And after that?"
"We go back to not trusting anyone."
"…Deal," she said after a pause.
They shook hands.
It wasn't warm.
But it was a strategy.
Elsewhere, players began forming small clusters — some based on past friendships, others on pure desperation.
Some played cards.
Some played pretend.
Some whispered about the boy with silver eyes and the girl with cold fire in her gaze.
Hours Later
"GAME 6: INITIATION BEGINS."
The countdown ended.
The lights dimmed again.
The door slid open.
And Lyra stepped forward — this time not alone, not unarmed, but prepared.
For now.
Player Count: 267
Game 6: Loading…
And in the shadows behind the system, the hidden admin whispered:
"Let's see how long your strategies last."