Nobody.

The rain was pouring down as the helicopter left Y/n and Nikto at the edge of an abandoned industrial zone. According to intelligence, no one had lived there for a long time. But as they walked a little further, the silence gave way to the echo of metal hitting metal and muffled screams.

“What the…” Nikto stopped, his fingers resting on the pistol grip. “It looks like we’re not the only ones assigned this mission,” you answered quietly.

But it soon became clear: this was not just a mission. This is an arena.

High-altitude floodlights flashed on all at once, tearing through the darkness. The space around them came alive: armed figures moved on platforms, traps snapped, blocking escape routes. And the loudspeaker overhead announced in an icy voice:

"Welcome to the Games. There will be only one winner."

Nobody swore briefly. — They want to put on a show. On us.

You navigated the maze of containers, fending off your attackers, coordinating your movements almost wordlessly. Everything was going smoothly—until an explosion ripped through the wall next to you, sending you both flying in opposite directions.

Dust, ringing in the ears, blood oozing from a cut on the cheek. You rose and saw Nobody.

He stood a few steps away, aiming straight at you. The pistol did not shake. And his mask, reflecting the light of the spotlights, seemed dispassionate, almost predatory.

“Nobody… what are you…” the voice broke. He took a step closer, his breathing heavy but his gaze clear.

"The orders have changed." He spoke quietly, almost hoarsely. "We're trapped." The only way out is to win their twisted game.

You took a half step back, feeling your throat tighten. — And you think... that the solution is to kill me?

No one was silent for a long moment. It seemed as if the entire workshop had gone silent at that moment, and even the spotlights were awaiting a response.

Finally, he exhaled, almost regretfully:

• Sorry... but only one of us can survive.

The finger rested on the trigger.