It was a trashy-no-good waste of a novel! Wiping your ass with it would be an honor! An absolute waste of thirty dollars! An even bigger waste of time!
At first, the book was stupidly engaging, but it soon spiraled into insanity. The damn author paid no attention to anyone but Sage, and the power-system was an inconsistent mess! Not to mention the plot went nowhere! It was just stupid battle after stupid battle, and once the author realized they couldn’t keep it up; they made Sage, the MC, kill EVERYBODY! Falling action? What falling action?! It wasn’t even falling, it was plummeting straight off the side of a damn cliff!
He kicked the bedpost, fuming. CLANG. Something dislodged—and his rusty bed frame came crashing down. The last thing he saw was the god, ugly cover of that damn novel as it fell from his bed.
…then everything faded into darkness.
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“Saguaro, SAGUARO!” Someone kicked his side hard, and he toppled to the ground. “GET UP!”
He blinked black spots out of his vision, his head still spinning from his bedpost—his bed! He quickly stood up before a wave of dizziness hit him.
And he fainted. Again.
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When he next rose, it was to the butt of a rifle aimed at his head. “You missed the roll call. Number,” the woman demanded.
He looked around, baffled at what was going on. He was stuck in an unnervingly gray room. Gray concrete walls and floors, gray storage boxes, gray rows of beds, and nothing else. The uniforms that all the kids and he wore, while white, didn’t help either. Whoever made this must have been allergic to color.
Around him, kids and teenagers stood in single file lines, each dressed in a monochrome, white uniform with bands of more gray on their sleeves. The woman cocked the gun and growled,“I said. Number.”
Behind her, a child piped up. “Madame, he’s Saguaro; V-808.”
As the woman typed down his name onto a phone, he blinked in confusion. “What the hell is a saguaro??”
By then she had turned around and left the room, the children disbanding. One kid approached him. Her black hair covered her eyes and she reached out to pull him up.
He stared at her lips. God, she was hot. He quickly pulled his hands away, still feeling her lingering touch. “Who was that? Where am I? What’s going on? Who are you??”
“Saguaro? Are you okay?” She reached up to place her hand over his forehead and ignored his questions.
“My name isn’t Saguaro,” he argued, “it’s…” He racked his brain, but there was nothing. He could remember his older sisters, Jiuxuan and Heyün, his parents, friends, even the plot of the wretched novel he was reading. But whenever he reached for his name, it came up blank. “I don’t remember… but I’m not Saguaro!”
“He’s going crazy,” someone whispered.
The girl shook her head and took his hand. “It’s okay. You’re probably just confused after yesterday. I’m Sedum, and you’re,” she tapped his nose and grinned, “Saguaro.”
“… fine. Whatever you say,” he gritted out, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. “Then what kind of weird reality show is this?”
“Should we bring him to the infirmary?”
Sedum shushed them. “No, it’s too dangerous.” She turned back to him and helped him off the ground. “Look, Saguaro, let’s go grab some food. I’ll explain everything you need to know over breakfast.” With that, she left the room. The others took the cue and filed in behind her.
Soon enough, he stood alone. He sighed. Finally, some private-time, thank god.
His brain felt like a puzzle that someone had taken out of the box, scrambled, then put back in. Too much stuff was being thrown at him too fast. He needed to reorganize his thoughts. Okay, first order of business, figure out where the hell he was.
Scanning the room, he found nothing that he hadn’t seen before. Gray, gray, and more gray. If he wasn’t already going crazy, this would do it to him. He sunk down to the floor, face in his hands, groaning. This was useless. He was going to die, all alone in this stupid, gray place.
He’d rather waste away in bed than face whatever was going on here. Lying around like an idiot was preferable to standing around like one. Actually, what was stopping him from doing that right now? Definitely not his non-existent sense of decency.
With that decision, he crawled into the bunk bed nearest to him and flung the sheets over his head. There, now he could hide from his problems. The bed had no pillow, a rock-hard mattress, and one of the flimsiest blankets he’d ever had the displeasure of using, but still, better than nothing.
“Are you coming?” A boy, who couldn’t be older than 18, poked his head in. “Sedum will get mad if you’re late.”
He groaned into the sheets. Why, why did other people have to have a sense of responsibility? He wished he was one of those crusty naked-mole rats. They didn’t have to deal with this sort of shit.
“Coming, coming.” He pulled himself up reluctantly and followed after the boy. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could just get all his answers from Sedum. She would tell him that this was some wild reality show, so he could put this behind him and move on with his life.
Sedum… he could’ve sworn he’d heard that before. Hm, wasn’t it the name of some sort of flower? Yeah, that must be it.
He heard it before he saw it. The footsteps rumbling through the floor. Indistinguishable chatter, then the occasional yell as they passed through gray hallways, which slowly bled into white.
Sedum was standing surrounded by the kids from the gray barracks. “Okay! Everybody listen up!” She clapped her hands.
“Most of the Blues are currently out of commission and the Yellows were drugged yesterday! The strongest pierce through the crowd and the sturdier build a way for the weaker! Standard maneuver! Take as much food as you can. And take none alive!” Everyone cheered and charged into the large cafeteria. Her words held an eerie sense of familiarity.
Inside the building, he noticed the first colors he had seen since he arrived in wherever this was. Children milled around, fighting each other to reach the line for food. They each had one colored band or more hanging around their right shoulder. Looking down, he realized he wore three gray bands.
His head was a little fuzzy, but even he knew that something didn’t add up. He couldn’t help but feel like he had been here before, yet he couldn’t place it. Perhaps he actually was going insane, like everyone said.
And… that was enough of thinking for the day; he could feel a headache coming on.
Within no time, Sedum and a group of people wearing gray bands emerged from the crowd. They were worse for wear, yet smiling and carrying packets of food.
“Saguaro?” Sedum approached him. She directed him and the group to a table near the entrance. “I’ll let you off the hook this time, but you need to contribute to the team.”
She passed over a bag of food, her hands warm as they made contact with him. He withdrew quickly and flushed at the touch.
The boy from earlier elbowed his side with a smirk. “Sedum’s aiming for a guy on the Violet team; you’ve got no chance, bro. I’m Joshua, by the way,” Joshua said and shook his hand.
Sedum reached over to flick Joshua’s forehead. “That’s enough out of you. So Saguaro, you say you really don’t remember anything? What exactly do you need help filling in?”
“Where are we?” He turned to his bag, opening it to find a stale piece of bread. This had got to be a violation of the Geneva Convention. He put it back in the bag.
“The Dendro Stadium, taking part in the Silva Experiment.”
From the back of his mind, a memory surfaced, triggered by the name of the stadium and a strange sense of nostalgia.
He used to hide under blankets, reading under the light of a dying flashlight, praying that his father wouldn’t catch him. While reading his favorite novel he would cheer on a main character, named Sage, as he fought monsters and crawled his way up to the rankings of Silva-E. His attitude didn’t change when Sage soon became a serial-killer. And he even CRIED when the love interest died early on.
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In one of the book’s first challenges, this guy, Saguaro—wait… Saguaro? Wasn’t that what everybody was calling him? Wasn’t this the Dendro Stadium where that novel took place? And the Silva Experiment, wasn’t that the full name of Silva-E?
Oh, OH.
No, no, no, this had to be a nightmare or an elaborate form of torture or maybe a weird new TV show. He pinched himself and winced. Okay, it was real then.
He was screwed. The realization slammed into him like a truck. He was the dumbest person alive—no, who ever lived. All the clues were right in front of him! Yet they still managed to fly over his head! This wasn’t even stupidity at this point, it was straight up ignorance…
“Saguaro?” Sedum asked, concerned.
Memories began flooding in, Saguaro, or rather the OG Saguaro, was a mess of a character. Saguaro showed up as a minor villain in the first couple of characters, and was tortured to death by Sage. The guy was so minor that he couldn’t even remember what Saguaro did!
He was absolutely screwed. He was going to die by Sage’s hands, tortured for something he didn’t do!
“So… is there someone called Sage here?” He asked tentatively, praying internally that the answer would be no.
“Hm? I don’t think so. Why?”
“Uh, nevermind.” He sighed in relief, pressing his hand to his heart.
She shook her head. “Maybe Saguaro actually is going insane…” Joshua nodded in agreement.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He stood up, leaving his food on the table untouched. If Sage wasn’t here yet, then everything was fine. His head spun a little, but everything was okay. He wasn’t going to die, not yet—he hoped.
Someone tapped his shoulder. “Excuse me?”
He turned around. Oh, OH. That face, that stupidly handsome face, that face which he never wanted to see in his life. Green eyes he felt he was drowning in, black hair immaculately swept to the side, and even goddamned clear skin.
He instinctively swung his first at the face, before he realized…
Wait, green? Green eyes? His eyes widened, and he stumbled backwards.
Then he fainted. Again.
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He awoke to more white. Maybe, if he closed his eyes and pretended this was all a bad dream, then he would wake up, comfy in his bed. Yes, he was lying at home with a paper due in a week. On a dirty mattress with his father calling him to go buy some beers.
“Stop pretending to be asleep.”
He pulled the blanket over his head. Someone yanked it off.
Before he could use his pillow to cover his head, they grabbed his wrist and pulled him up.
“Leave me alone,” he whined, wrist in a bruising grip. “My eyes hurt…”
His captor reached over and peeled his eyelids open. The white light of wherever he was blinded him and his eyes watered.
“…why are you crying? Am I that ugly?” They asked, releasing his wrist from their grip.
“No, no. You’re not as bad as that—” He squinted at them and tried to blink the tears out of his eyes. A blurry face came into vision. Crap. His face paled and he stared at them, mouth agape. “Sage…”
“Sage? Who's that?” Sage reached up to touch his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” He flinched at Sage’s touch and jerked away. Sage continued speaking, oblivious to his distress. “I’m Salix, by the way, from the violet team.”
Somehow, his face paled further and he laughed nervously. “Oh- I- Uh- I should get going… yeah! I’ll take my leave now..” He stumbled out of bed, acting like he wasn’t lightheaded.
Oh, he was so screwed. It was one thing to meet a crazy Sage, and it was another to meet a pre-crazy Sage. Maybe if he left right now and Sage forgot about him, there was still a chance to live.
No one saw Sage take him to the infirmary, right? If anyone did, he would bet 10, no 100 dollars that he would die within the month.
“Wait! Did I do something wrong? Why do you seem so scared of me?”
His heartbeat increased and he tried not to make eye contact with Sage’s pitiful look. It was hard not to feel like he just kicked a puppy. Gosh, he had forgotten how Sage behaved before, well everything.
“You didn’t do anything wrong…” He awkwardly patted Sage’s shoulder.
“Then why are you running from me?”
“I— why are you so concerned about me?” he retorted.
Sage looked embarrassed at that question. Why? There was nothing weird about it, was there? He shook the thought away from his head and focused on Sage, who was now trying to avoid his gaze. “So?”
The tips of Sage’s ears were distinctly red. “So my ability…”
Crap. He took what he said before back. It’d be better to 1,000 bucks that he’d die within the week.
Due to some chemicals or something, the novel never explained it. Some of the unlucky idiots in the stadium would develop powers based on their personality. Sage, in particular, became a glorified video game character. Leveling, Sage’s ability, gave Sage quests which he completed for various rewards, such as skill points, new abilities, and of course levels. Sage, by being a stupid gamer, somehow managed to snag himself a cheat power.
It was the most stereotypical, bad novel, super-powerful superpower, and yet it was completely useless in the story. The damn ability never came into play. It was like the author just introduced it for brownie points from the readers!
He fumed and didn’t realize he was also ranting under his breath. “Leveling… terrible author… I swear…” he grumbled.
“You know its name?” Sage grabbed his shoulders, eyes widening, “You! You’re a seer, aren’t you?! Tell me something else you know about me! Do I win the next challenge?” He shuddered at Sage’s complete 180 in personality.
Wait… double crap. How had he dug himself into this hole? Sage was not interested in him, not at all, that would be a death sentence. He swears to Buddha, God, Allah, whoever’s listening, this wasn’t deliberate. “No… I’m not a seer,” he weakly protested.
“No! You are! That’s why Leveling told me to befriend you! Right?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about...”
Sage’s eyes flicked over to the right, reading something that he couldn’t see. “You’re lying. Leveling just told me so.”
“...” He elected not to respond and instead averted his gaze. Why, out of everyone in the world, was he chosen to be transmigrated into this goddamned book? And why this novel?! Why couldn’t it have been one of those nice slice-of-life mangas or contemporary romances?
“You don’t have to lie to me, you know… I won’t rat you out, I promise!” Sage smiled and held out his pinky finger.
He stared at it blankly. Who did this guy think he was? A child? “I don’t know what you think you’re trying to pull, but I’m not a seer!”
“But I’m not trying to pull anything…” Sage, once again, pulled out the stupid puppy-dog eyes. It seemed to be the only thing he knew how to do.
“Liar! Stop giving me those puppy-dog-eyes then!”
“Pleeaase, please, can we team up? I’ll make it worth your while, I swear!” Sage seemed to tear up in his desperation. Gosh, he had forgotten how Sage behaved, prior to, well, everything.
But on second thought, if Sage found use in him, he was more likely to survive, probably. He sighed. As of now accepting the proposal was the best option. Later he could convince Sage to help him escape this stadium, then ditch Sage. “Fine… But only if you promise not to hurt me!”
“I wouldn’t even think of doing so.” Sage reached out with his pinky finger once more. This guy really was a child. Couldn’t they agree in a more mature and sensible manner? Still, despite his gripes, he took Sage’s finger, linking his around the other’s. “Okay! You’re getting transferred to my team, right?” Sage asked.
“Wait, which team are you on again?” His memory of the timeline was foggy at best. For all he knew, Sage could be on the Red Team by now.
“Violet, as of now. Shouldn’t you know this already? Testing Day is soon, do I transfer then?”
Oh, he messed up. What was he thinking, trying to act like a seer? If Sage caught him, he wouldn’t just be dead, he’d be on the brink of it! He was so dumb. Why was being dumb his downfall?! Why not something cool at least?!
He had to fix this, say something, anything. “I- Uh…You’re transferring to the White Team!”
“Really?! How soon? Do you join me too?” Sage perked up and leaned forwards, a little too close in his personal space. Oh gosh, he was safe, for now.
“Let’s not talk about that…”
“Okay,” Sage pouted, “…but, if I manage to get you transferred along with me, can I choose your name?”
That was unusually kind from a serial killer. He squinted at Sage. Maybe this was some new form of manipulation.
“Can I choose your name then?”
Unexpectedly, and unfortunately, Sage lit up, apparently delighted at the prospect, and took his hands. “Of course! I call you Agave? My pet dog used to be named that!”
He took back anything nice he ever said about this stupid protagonist. Sage’s head was full of fluff, no that would be too generous, his head was completely empty. Nobody was at home in there.
“Are you calling me a dog?! I- I! In that case I should just call you, I don’t know, poopy-mc-pooster or something!”
“But Agave is a nice name…”
He sighed. Sage was necessarily stubborn and it’s not like he could remember his own name anyways. No point in disagreeing further, as much as he would like to do that.
“Fine. You can be Sage then.” It was better to name Sage, well Sage, there would be less confusion that way.
Sage gathered him into a hug, pulling Agave against his chest. “So, we’re transferring together, deal or no deal?”
“…deal.”