The guards led Eli, Jinni, Zoya, Anni, and Rose into the big hall where the second game had already been set up. Inside, Kai, Logan, Finn, Ethan, and Sara stood with their partners; relief flashed across faces as people hugged, checked for injuries, and tried to convince themselves they were still whole. Nervous whispers rustled like paper.
A cold, sharp voice cut through the fragile moment.
Masked Man: "Stop this. They're not dead so just shut up and listen to me."
Ice fell across the room. Everyone bristled with anger, but no one dared answer.
The Masked Man's tone shifted, mocking and calm.
"Everyone played their roles very well. We enjoyed that. So now, let's make this fun… double."
He spread his hands as if offering a gift.
"You see, I'm not as heartless as you think. From now on, I won't use the children in these games."
Kai's reply was bitter, thin as a smile.
Kai: "Wow… what a nice person you are."
The Masked Man chuckled.
"Thank you, Kai."
Logan snapped, voice raw.
Logan: "Hah… what a motherfucker…"
The Masked Man ignored the insult and went on, his voice steady and authoritative.
"Now, I'll explain the second game. And yes you're all going to play."
Finn's voice cracked.
Finn: "Please… don't drag our partners into this."
Masked Man: "Don't interrupt me again, or I'll make you regret it. I'll tell you all right now."
He stepped forward, his masked gaze sweeping them.
"So, where were we… ah yes. From now on, you will play as two-man teams against opposing teams. You must try to win… or fall together."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"Simple enough, right? Not a big deal."
Zoya's voice cut through, sharp and certain.
Zoya: "I know there's more to this. Say it."
The Masked Man tilted his head, faint amusement in his posture.
"In this short time you've already understood me well. Good."
Then he made the rule plain, slow and precise.
"Two will compete against two. But here's the true twist: if a team makes a mistake, the punishment will fall on the opposite team not on the makers of the mistake. Your errors will be paid for by those across from you."
The hall went colder. The rule didn't merely punish it turned every small failure into a weapon aimed at someone else.
Silence pressed in, heavy and taut. The calculation of survival had shifted: cooperation, trust, betrayal all rearranged into a new geometry of fear.
He watched them, then spoke the last line with a voice that sank into bone.
"Remember this: your life will depend on the hands of the people beside you."