In the guest bedroom of their new home, a groggy Brit had just awakened from her nap.

The silence of the house surrounded her as she checked to see if either Ross or Ged had returned. When she turned on the kitchen sink, her delight was evident as she found that the water was working. Disregarding their absence, she proceeded to the guest bathroom to turn on the shower.

However, as she entered the bathroom, the front door swung wide open, allowing a droopy figure to enter and drop a bag onto the counter.

"Ged?" Brit called out.

The man didn't answer; instead, he slithered past the kitchen and into the living room, collapsing onto the couch.

Feeling nervous, Brit moved away from the shower and into the main guest bedroom. Peering through the open door she noticed the door was still wide open with no one nearby. Slowly, she crept out of the room.

"Hello?" she said wearily.

"I'm here, Brit," a weak voice rang out.

Turning around, she saw a man sitting on a nearby couch. Ripped, dirty bandages were wrapped around his hands and neck. His face was swollen, one eye closed and the other a bloody red hue, making him almost unrecognizable. Brit stared in shock.

"Ross?" An ice-cold chill ran down her spine; tears welled up as she looked at the pitiful sight before her.

"Do me a favor. Grab me a bowl of water and a knife, then shut that door," Ross spoke, his voice firm.

Brit moved quickly, wiping away tears as she closed the front door, then grabbed a knife and a bowl, filling it with water in the kitchen.

"Follow me to the bathroom," Ross struggled to rise, his left arm hanging loosely, dried blood covering his face and shirt. Limping, he led in front of Brit, retrieving a shirt from his bedroom drawer before slowly making his way to the bathroom.

With a solemn expression, Ross stared at his swollen reflection in the mirror. He took the shirt, dipped it into the bowl of water, and carefully cleaned his face.

"I know we've never been too close," Ross said as he continued cleaning his face. "I understand that neither you nor that boy considers me much of a father figure. Maybe today is the day I start being one," he spoke grabbing the knife in his hands and holding it up to his face.

Brit felt a strong sense of dread, awkwardly answering, "That's not true I've always thought of you like a father."

The knife stopped. A strained chuckle came from Ross, "Cut the crap," he said, "I don't need your positive sentiments. I'll just leave you with some advice. You aren't cut out for this world. Only the strong have any agency here. Being weak, kind, or content in life — that is true death.

"You either suffer or die suffering."

Ross cut into his face, draining the buildup of bodily fluid from his swelling.

Horrified, Brit backed away from the bloody scene, distancing herself from the emotional Ross.

Ross dabbed his face with the shirt until it was soaking bright red.

"Get me another shirt," Ross commanded.

Brit walked to the still-open drawer grabbing another shirt from a stack before returning and handing over it to Ross.

"What happened to you Ross, why did we end up at this place?" Brit spoke still shaken with tears coming out of her eyes.

"That damn tractor," Ross exclaimed, slamming the knife onto the bathroom counter.

"I should have seen the writing on the wall. Those government bastards look for any reason to fuck you over," he trailed off before continuing harshly, "Why does it matter how we got here? Do you think the government is going to take us on another farming contract?"

Just outside, in front of the rows of houses, Ged had already said his goodbyes to Brandon and was now eagerly anticipating his return home. He felt both tired and hungry; the long, exciting day, coupled with his lack of sleep, had left him utterly exhausted.

The street was still eerily quiet as Ged reached for his key to unlock the door. To his surprise, the door was already unlocked. Weary, he stepped inside.

On the kitchen counter before him lay a soaked bag, its contents a mishmash of glass, bread, and chunks of yellow root. Ged looked at the contents with curiosity.

Brit came rushing out from the master bedroom.

"Ged, thank god you're back. You have to help Ross," Brit spoke frantically, tears still lingering. "He's in such bad shape; I don't know what to do."

Shocked and confused, Ged responded, "Where is he?"

Brit pointed to the master bedroom. Ged walked in slowly, entering the bedroom before turning to look into the bathroom, where a grisly sight awaited.

Ross, his face cut up and mangled, still stood, looking soberly at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"What, boy? You've come to pity me as well?" Ross spoke viciously, not even sparing a glance at Ged.

Ged froze at the horrifying sight, only able to manage a simple, "Ross, are you okay?"

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"I'm fantastic," Ross replied sarcastically.

"What happened to you?" Ged asked, his concern audible. "Your face..." Ged's words trailed off.

"Ged, you realize you are hopeless," Ross bitterly responded, his tone sharp with disappointment. "You spend your days daydreaming, lazily completing the bare minimum, disregarding responsibility.

"You live in a bubble, ignorant to your own weakness."

He continued, his words cutting through the air, "What you don't realize is that the strong control the world. When the day comes that you are trampled underfoot, don't expect salvation."

Feeling suffocated by Ross' horrifying appearance and harsh abuse, Ged let out an emotional, "I'm not weak."

"Ross, how come you ended up like this? We need to take you to a hospital." Ged continued to worry.

Ross chuckled, "A rookie fighter, who hasn't even seen a day in the ring? Thinks he can afford a trip to the hospital."

He looked at Ged, his tone sharp, "You are weak."

"Can you even feed yourself? Screw a hospital visit. Look at the table; that's what one day's work as a bronze fighter can afford."

"Can you even survive until the end of this week? Don't worry about me so much, boy, worry about yourself. My days may be numbered, but yours are too." Ross lamented.

With those words Ged stormed out of the bedroom, his face etched with anger and frustration. Brit remained sitting on the couch, tears still wiping tears off of her face.

"What are we going to do?" Brit looked up at Ged with hopeless eyes.

Ged opened the bag of groceries again, this time with a more serious expression. He began to sort through the messy contents, picking out edible pieces.

Ged stared intently at a thumb-sized piece of bread; bits of glass shone off it under the ceiling light. Every second he looked at the inedible piece of bread he seemed to mature a year in age.

"I don't think we should eat that." Brit finally broke the silence.

Ged put down the piece of bread back into the bag. "Don't worry, Brit, I'll go to the arena and fight for some money, then I'll go to the stores and buy some more food."

"The arena's closed; it closed at 5," Ross answered from the master bedroom, dashing Ged's hopes more.

"Fine, then I'll stand near the people by the shops and beg for food," Ged said, determined to help resolve their situation.

Ross let out a sinister laugh. "The same people who caused my torment are the ones you want to beg food from? I would love to see you try."

Feeling disheartened and frightened by Ross' words, Ged became desperate to come up with a solution. In a moment of brilliance, he remembered that he now had the mayor's contact information. He swiftly pulled out his fighter card to contact Ralph.

"I'll-I'll call for help then," Ged forcefully declared, his stress starting to become evident.

After a few rings with no answer, Brit spoke up, saying, "Ged, that's enough."

The fighter card rang one final time before falling silent.

"You tried your best. It's getting late; once the sun's out again, we can go out and look for food." She continued.

Ged and Brit stood apart, both feeling lost. From the master bedroom, the sound of a shower broke their silence, prompting the weary youths into action.

They took turns cleansing themselves before attempting to sleep, settling for water to curb their hunger. Although sleep didn't come easy, it eventually embraced them nonetheless.

The crack of dawn arrived, and Ged was already wide awake. Ged got up, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and left the house to meet Brandon at the clearing behind their house for their planned workout.

When Ged arrived no one was present, he gazed upon on the distant landscape lost in thought and fantasy. After a few brief minutes, a familiar black-haired boy approached Ged from the distance.

"Hey, broccoli head," Brandon called out, his voice vibrant. "You ready for your first workout?"

Ged frowned at Brandon's new nickname for him. "Brandon, I do still want to work out. However, would you mind waiting for a bit? I need to go to the arena and earn some money to buy food. I haven't eaten anything since yesterday morning," Ged replied, his hunger biting.

"The arena? No, that will take too long," Brandon said, shaking his head in disagreement. "If you're desperate to eat something, you could always have some rivermud root."

"Rivermud root?" Ged brightened up a little, continuing, "is it easy to find?"

"Yeah, there's plenty of them down by the riverbank. It sounds like you've never had one before. It's unpleasant to taste and will lower your squat max, but in turn it replenishes stamina. I'll show you what it looks like," Brandon said, leading Ged in the direction of the muddy river.

Brandon pulled an small green shoot topped with a white drooping flower from the ground, revealing its dark brown curly roots. Breaking off the roots, he handed them over to Ged.

"I worry about you, broccoli head. If you eat too much of this stuff, you'll be dead before our first workout." Brandon spoke as Ged uprooted several more rivermud plants from the riverbank.

Holding three roots in his hand he replied, "I need these to feed my sister and Ross."

He held the roots up towards Brandon asking, "should I cook these?"

"You can, but you're better off just eating it raw. That stuff is disgusting no matter what," Brandon said, frowning, his arms crossed over his chest.

Ged rubbed off some excess dirt from one end of the root before breaking off a piece and sticking it in his mouth. The taste was far from pleasant; a bitter, dry sensation filled Ged's mouth, followed by a sour milky aftertaste. He struggled to keep it down.

"Gaghck. That's awful," Ged attempted to spit, but no saliva came out.

"Oh yeah, it's pretty terrible. But trust me, anything you eat after this will seem amazing," Brandon said.

Ged frowned at Brandon's harmless joke. He then managed to convince Brandon to make a stop at his house to wash off and eat the remaining roots.

Ged made it back home quickly washing the roots in the sink, getting out the kitchen knife and a plate to serve his root dish. Just as Ged plated the first chopped root, a sleepy Brit arrived from within the guest bedroom.

"Good morning, sis." Brit stared dazingly at the newcomer in the home, "this is Brandon," Ged introduced. Brandon gave a small wave before Ged continued, "He helped me find us some food to eat. Its taste is not great, but it will give you energy." Ged spoke, reaching out the plate towards Brit.

"Brandon, thank you," Brit said, accepting the plate solemnly and examining the brown root.

Brandon replied coyly, "Thank me? Nah, you really should try that stuff first. It's truly terrible."

Brit hesitated for a moment before taking a small nibble. Her eyes widened before she spat out the chewed remnants onto the plate. "Ged, water," she exclaimed.

Ged filled up a glass of water and handed it to Brit. "I'm sorry, sis, but we have to make do with this. However. I promise after I go to the arena today I'll get us something better to eat."

Brit looked intently at her plate of root, responding, "It's fine, I can get used to it. Thank you, Ged."

Ged smiled wryly finishing preparing another plate heading over to the closed door of the master bedroom. He knocked softly, but there was no answer.

Ged slowly twisted the knob and entered. The room's smell was nauseating, with all the curtains drawn. Curled up on the mattress a small silhouette of a body could be seen.

"Ross? I found us some food," Ged said determined.

A small grunt could be heard from within the blankets. Ged took it as a pass for entry and set the plate of root on the bedside table.

Pausing for a moment, Ged then moved back out of the room, sparing the depressed Ross a second glance, before closing the door.

Ged finally cut up a root for himself, recoiling with each bite. He swallowed half the plate, washing it down with water in a hopeless attempt to make the taste more palatable.

After saying their goodbyes to Brit, Ged and Brandon then left the house, heading on their way to where the outdoor gym was situated.

After the boys left.

Brit was now seated on the couch. She pulled out her Fighter Card, and after a moment, a flash of light appeared. In response, she held the card to her ear and gave a gentle smile.

In the safety of the silent home she listened to a pleasant voice speaking to her through the card.