When the prisoners stepped into the chamber, each carrying their own lantern, Edge knew that he was screwed. Both men radiated vitality and vigor. The aura of potency that binding a core bestowed.

The bigger man was deeply tanned and built like a bull. He was clearly a full power build, every inch of his body covered in dense, corded muscle. He looked strong enough to punch right through Edge, which Edge realized, he probably could.

He had a buzzcut and wore some kind of elastic armor that allowed for mobility in the joints. Like all prisoners on the planet, his left arm was covered in ink. The markings indicated that the big man was a D-class criminal, the lowest designation that a cored convict could have.

The other man was tall and lean, as pale as his companion was dark. His wiry strength and agile movements suggested a heavy investment in speed and control. He was clad in leather and as graceful as a dancer, with tattoos revealing that he was D-class too.

Edge had the impression that the tall man was even more dangerous than the big man. Fast enough that Edge had no chance of darting past or outrunning him.

Either man could kill him with both hands tied behind their backs, even if they didn’t use a single skill. They likely had several. Edge was certain that at their stages, they’d be packing something better than his rank-one slash.

There were accounts of uncored warriors defeating cored opponents, and he knew that it was possible in theory. With sufficient preparation, firepower, or numbers, trained uncored could handle enemies that were still at stage-one or two. None of which applied here.

Edge was all alone, had been caught by surprise, and was armed with a knife that barely qualified as a weapon. His only hope was to distract them long enough for the reliquary to unseal.

They hadn’t spotted him yet, so he ducked back below the masonry. He knew that if he made a single mistake past this point, he was dead. That he would most likely die even if he didn’t.

But Edge wasn’t going down without a fight. Not with his prize so close at hand.

He had to do something to buy more time. They were right that he had no chance of holding his own in a brawl. Not against two regular men, let alone a pair of cored jailbirds.

His best bet was to make them hesitate. Keep them talking and pray that whatever was locked inside the reliquary was powerful enough to give him a fighting chance.

“Don’t come any closer! The entire floor is covered with traps.” Edge’s first attempt bought him seven seconds.

“Bullshit,” the tall man said. “That’s a transparent bluff. You don’t have the stats or the skills to detect even a basic trap, let alone something that would stop us. It’s the only reason that we followed your slow ass for this long to begin with. Just give up. You can’t talk your way out of this one, tourist.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Please don’t do this. I won’t last another day out there if I can’t earn a few credits. I’ll die if I give it to you.” Four and a half minutes to go.

“Die tomorrow or die right now,” the big man replied. “Seems like an easy choice. Stop stalling and hand everything over, or I’ll make this slow instead of fast.”

Reluctantly, Edge stepped away from the reliquary, raising his hands as he revealed himself. He kept his posture meek, and his tone defeated. Like the treasure was already inside his pack and he was preparing to surrender his claim.

He sighed dramatically. “I give up. You can take everything. All I ask is that you let me leave with my life.”

“Not so fast.” The tall man smirked. “How about we play a game instead? Two rounds, winner takes all. You’ll face each of us in the contest of our choice. If you win, you get the chest and your freedom. If we win, we take the box… and your life. Now that I’ve thought about it, I want it after all.”

“Of course.” The big man broke into a predatory grin. “If you prefer, we can murder you now instead.” Edge could sense that he had to make this fun for them. That they would end his life the moment they grew bored.

It was common for convicts to have sadistic tendencies. That was the kind of thing that got a person sentenced here in the first place. Most prisoners had several kills to their name as well, especially after arriving on Ord. As dangerous as this world was for tourists, the survival rate for its permanent residents was even worse.

The combined result was that many of the killers here enjoyed playing with their victims. A bad habit that Edge was counting on to buy precious seconds while he waited for the reliquary to unseal. Since there are two of them, maybe I can find a way to play one off the other.

“Ok. I’m in.” Edge took off his pack and set it on the floor beside his knife, looking down at the bag longingly before turning to face the men. “What’s life without a little excitement? Who's up first and what are the rules?”

He put everything that he had into acting scared but trying not to show it. Which he supposed wasn’t acting after all, since it was exactly how he already felt. Four minutes.

“It’s my turn to go first.” The strong man turned to the fast man. “You killed the last two before I got a round.”

“Fine. But make it quick. I doubt that our new friend will last long enough to make this exciting anyway. His heart will stop long before the real screams begin.”

It was around this time that Edge caught the scent of rotting meat riding the breeze. An electric tension buzzing in the air. He felt a premonition of bloodthirst rising from the ruins. A menace more primal than the jailbirds’ cruelty.

He didn’t like it. But then again, he didn’t like anything about this situation. All that he could do was deal with the problem in front of him and worry about the next when it came.

The big man opened the front of his armor, exposing his muscular chest to the lamplight. “Bring that little knife with you, or this won’t be any fun.” Edge didn’t trust a word he was saying. But every second that he could delay their wrath was one second less until the reliquary unsealed.

He figured that his best chance to drag this out was to go with the flow, since the convicts were clearly enjoying his dilemma. He bent down to pick up the blade, then slowly crossed the room.

Edge walked up to the big man, twirling the knife in time with the pounding of his heart. He looked the jailbird straight in the eye and grinned. “If you want to play, I’m game.”