Jack stepped out of the training room, his breathing steady but his eyes distant. He wiped a smear of dried blood off his arm and adjusted the straps on his suit. The hallway was silent. Cold. Just like the air inside his head.
Behind him, the reinforced door hissed shut with a dull thud.
But the camera doesn't follow Jack just yet.
It lingers—on the training room.
The lights flicker once. A faint hum fills the air. Then—
Spores drift through the room like dust caught in sunlight, slow and soft, but wrong. A low, pulsing sound echoes from deep within the vines now snaking across the walls and floor. Where the dummies once stood are now twisted husks, overgrown with fungal blooms—thick, veiny mushrooms pushing through plastic and synthetic muscle. One dummy's face is partially melted, its mouth pried open by mushroom caps growing from its throat.
In the center of the room, a crater-like patch of rot spreads outward—blackened and wet, steaming slightly. Bits of flesh-like growth twitch subtly with leftover motion, like they're waiting for something to step too close.
The room breathes.
---
Meanwhile...
Jack walks down the hall, barefoot now. His gloves hang from his pocket, and his hands twitch every few steps, faint spores still drifting from the pores in his palms before fading out. He passes a camera mounted on the wall. It follows him silently.
He doesn't look at it.
He just keeps walking—back to his room. Back to whatever version of peace he can still pretend to have.
Jack sits at a table, flipping through his notebook absently. The door opens, and Nova walks in slowly. Her steps are heavy. She doesn't say anything at first, just sets her combat suit on the bed and starts unstrapping her boots. Jack watches her for a second, then speaks.
Jack:
"They said you finished your last match in under a minute."
(Nova freezes, not turning around.)
Nova:
"...Yeah. I did."
Jack: (gentle, curious)
"You okay?"
Nova: (quietly)
"Define 'okay.'"
(She sits on the floor, her back against the bedframe. She doesn't look at him.)
Jack:
"You didn't come back right after. Heard you stayed in the prep room longer than usual."
Nova: (shrugs)
"Didn't feel like moving."
Jack:
"Was it bad?"
Nova: (after a pause)
"It was quiet. I made it quiet fast. Too fast."
(She looks down at her hands. Jack waits.)
Nova:
"I pulled the first guy straight into the ceiling. Snapped his spine before he hit the ground. The second one tried to run. I made his own body weight crush him to the floor. He couldn't even breathe to beg."
(Jack's expression tenses, but he stays quiet.)
Nova:
"And the last one… she had gravity powers too. Not strong, but controlled. She tried to float herself to escape me. I reversed her field. Slammed her down. Over and over. Until she didn't get up."
Jack: (quietly)
"You were fighting alone. They probably matched you that way on purpose."
Nova: (nods slowly)
"I know. I think they wanted to see what I'd do alone. No teammates. No eyes I cared about watching."
(She finally looks at Jack.)
Nova:
"I didn't hold back. Not once."
Jack:
"That doesn't make you a monster."
Nova: (bitter)
"Then what does?"
Jack:
"Letting it change you. Stop caring. Stop feeling. You're not there yet. If you were, you wouldn't be talking to me about it."
(Nova leans back, closing her eyes.)
Nova:
"My chest still feels heavy. Like I'm carrying pieces of them in me."
Jack:
"You're carrying the weight of surviving. That doesn't make you weak. That makes you human."
(A long silence. Then Jack adds, softly.)
Jack:
"If they make you go alone again… tell me after. I'll listen. I don't care how dark it gets."
Nova: (after a moment, voice barely audible)
"Thanks, Jack."
Jack leaves the room letting nova sleep as jack closed his door he lays on his bed thinking of what his going to do tomorrow then he slowly drifts off to sleep thinking if he will leave to see the next day
The room was still dark when the automated lights clicked on with a soft hum, gradually brightening to a dull morning glow. Jack's eyes fluttered open.
His body ached in familiar places, but he welcomed the soreness—it reminded him he was still alive.
He sat up in bed, the stiff sheet falling from his chest. The walls around him were plain: smooth, pale gray with one narrow window that didn't open. Just a fake view of a distant sky. A desk in the corner. A single shelf with a worn notebook and a few torn sketches. The kind of dorm that tried to look normal. But nothing about this place really was.
Jack swung his legs off the bed, exhaled through his nose, then raised his arms in a long stretch. His muscles tensed and popped, shoulders rolling, back cracking.
Then came the knuckles—pop pop pop—and the final twist of his neck, left then right, releasing that lingering pressure from yesterday's fight.
He stood.
He walked to his door and opened it with a tap. The hallway was quiet, only the distant hum of vents filling the silence.
As Jack stepped out, he paused. One door across the hall was open—Nova's.
He turned his head slightly and saw her.
She was still in her arena suit, curled up on her bed, arms loosely wrapped around a pillow. One leg hung off the side. Her boots were off but tossed near the door. The suit was wrinkled and faintly stained, like she hadn't even tried to change.
Her chest rose and fell in steady rhythm. Peaceful, in a way that looked borrowed—like it might be stolen back at any second.
Jack didn't say anything.
He just lingered a moment, made sure she was breathing steady, then turned away and headed down the hall.
The cafeteria wasn't anything special. Metallic floor, vending-style terminals lining the wall, rows of tables that never quite felt clean. Sterile and cold, even in the morning hours.
Jack walked up to the food machine, scanned his wristband, and the screen blinked:
[POINTS AVAILABLE: 12]
[PREMIUM BREAKFAST: -6 Points] x2
Click. Hiss. Clunk.
Two trays slid out from the panel below—fresh eggs, sausage, toast with real butter, orange slices, and juice bottles. Actual food. Earned with blood.
Jack carried both trays carefully, not rushing, navigating the silent corridors back toward their dorm.
The dorm's common room was simple but clean—a couch, a small round dining table, a few empty shelves, a mounted screen that rarely played anything useful. The walls were dull white. The lighting was soft but not decorative.
It looked like it could've been any college student's apartment—if you ignored the cameras in the corners and the reinforced locks on every door.
Jack placed both trays down on the table, one across from the other. He sat down, leaning back in the chair, one arm resting on the tabletop, eyes on the hallway.
He waited.
Soft footsteps.
Jack sat up slightly as Nova stepped out of her room, blinking blearily.
She hadn't changed. Her suit clung to her like it was part of her skin now. Her hair was messy, her face pale, but her eyes focused the second she saw him.
And then—the food.
She paused.
Nova: (blinking)
"Is that...?"
Jack: (nods toward her seat)
"Yeah. Premium stuff. Got it this morning."
Nova: (softly)
"You used your points?"
Jack:
"I had enough. Figured you needed something that doesn't taste like punishment."
(She walks over slowly, eyes flicking between him and the tray before sitting down across from him.)
Nova:
"You didn't have to do this."
Jack: (shrugs)
"I know."
(He doesn't push. He just lets her eat. The silence between them is calm—something rare in their lives.)
She picks up the fork.
Nova:
"Thanks, Jack."
Jack: (quiet)
"Anytime."