Arthur collapsed to his knees, his body trembling with exhaustion. The arena was eerily quiet now, save for the laboured breathing of the two remaining survivors. His chest rose and fell as he tried to steady himself, every muscle screaming with fatigue. The scoreboard flickered above, its cold, mechanical message clear: "Final Stage: Duel to the death. Only one may claim victory."

The words sent a shock through his system. No. I can't do this. He thought of Brian, of his promise to find him. But at what cost?

Across the bloodstained dirt stood Luna, her face pale but determined. Her dark hair clung to her sweat-soaked skin, and her sword glinted menacingly in the sunlight. She was breathing hard, just like him, her eyes betraying a mix of fear and resignation.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, voice cracking under the weight of their shared fate. "But it has to be one of us."

Arthur's heart twisted. He stared at her, desperation clawing at his chest. He didn't want this. Didn't want to fight her. But the Game had left them no choice. The rules were absolute. Only one could walk out of here.

Luna raised her sword, the weight of her decision evident in her trembling hands. Arthur tightened his grip on the spear he still held, feeling the rough wood dig into his palm. His mind raced. I don't want to do this. I can't kill her. But Brian... I have to survive for Brian.

Luna moved first.

With a sudden burst of speed, she charged at him, sword cutting through the air. Arthur stumbled back, narrowly dodging the strike, his heart pounding in his throat. His feet slipped in the dirt, his body screaming in protest as he tried to keep up with her relentless attack.

Luna's blade flashed again, this time grazing his arm. Arthur yelped, more from shock than pain, as he staggered backward, desperately trying to gain some distance. Think. Think!

He saw it then—a green powerup glowing faintly nearby. His eyes darted between Luna and the pedestal, knowing it was his only chance. If he could reach it, maybe he could stop her without having to kill her.

Luna swung again, and Arthur ducked, just barely avoiding a blow to the head. With a burst of adrenaline, he dashed toward the powerup, his heart thundering in his chest. His fingers brushed against the glowing orb, and in an instant, vines shot up from the ground, wrapping around Luna's legs and yanking her off balance.

She gasped as the tendrils ensnared her, but her eyes remained fixed on Arthur, determined, unyielding.

"I don't want to do this!" Arthur shouted; his voice hoarse. "We don't have to—"

But Luna wasn't listening. Her face twisted with anguish as she slashed at the vines, freeing herself. Her sword flashed in the sunlight, and she lunged at him once more, her desperation pushing her forward.

Arthur dodged, his back slamming against a nearby pedestal. His spear fell from his hands, clattering to the ground as Luna's blade swung again, inches from his face.

No!

In the chaos, Luna stumbled—her foot catching on the uneven ground. Arthur watched in horror as she fell, her body colliding with the weapon rack behind him. There was a sickening crunch, and when he turned, he saw the dozen arrowheads lodged in her chest, piercing her tunic like jagged thorns.

Luna's eyes widened in shock, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her hands fumbled at the arrows, but it was too late. Blood blossomed across her clothes, deep reds blooming like roses on fresh snow.

Arthur's heart shattered.

"No," he whispered, his voice breaking. He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands trembling as he reached for her. "Luna, I didn't mean to—"

Her breath hitched, and she looked up at him, her eyes clouded with pain. "I... I know," she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. Her hand found his, squeezing weakly. "You... have to survive…"

And then she was gone. Her body dissolved into shimmering pixels, vanishing before Arthur's eyes. He was left alone, the weight of her death pressing down on him like a boulder on his chest.

He had won.

But at what cost?

Arthur didn't know how long he knelt there, staring at the spot where Luna had been. His body felt numb, his mind reeling from what he'd done. I didn't want this. I didn't want to kill her. But Luna's last words echoed in his mind. Survive. The mission that had driven him from the start now felt tainted by the blood on his hands.

The scoreboard flickered to life above him, breaking through his daze. The words burned into his vision: "Victor: Arthur." The arena began to shift, the walls crumbling, the sky above darkening with swirling clouds. The familiar voice of the Game echoed through the stadium.

"Congratulations, Arthur. You have claimed your prize."

Arthur's gaze drifted to the center of the field, where a golden chest materialized, floating above the ground. His feet moved on their own as he staggered toward it, his heart heavy with guilt and grief. He didn't want a prize. He wanted Luna to be alive. He wanted his brother to be safe. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

But the Game didn't care about what he wanted.

With trembling hands, Arthur opened the chest. Inside was a small golden token, glinting in the fading light. A message flashed in his vision: "Extra Life Token acquired." Next to it lay a few common items: a Health Restoration pack, and a basic weapon upgrade. He hadn't the slightest clue as to what these items were, nor how to use them.

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Arthur took the token, clutching it in his hand. An extra life—a second chance. But no amount of second chances could erase what he had just done. Not long after, the token dematerialized, and when he tried to grab his other prizes, they too vanished in thin air. A message flashed in bold, holographic letters in front of him. "Items added to inventory. Access them by double-tapping your wristwatch."

Arthur did this, and another neon hologram materialized before him. It was a screen, showing the items held in his possession. 3 of 50; it seemed inventory was a commodity, after all. He made a mental note to be careful with his limited space.

The scoreboard flickered again, and the arena began to dissolve around him, the ancient stones falling away like sand. The familiar cityscape of concrete and steel reappeared in its place, as if the arena had never existed at all.

"The open world has been restored," the Game's voice announced. "Good luck, Arthur."

Arthur walked through the empty streets, his mind numb as the world blurred around him. His brother. He had to find Brian. That was the one thought that kept him moving. He must be out there somewhere. He must be.

His footsteps echoed in the stillness; the city eerily quiet in the aftermath of the Game. He barely registered his surroundings as he moved, driven only by the desperate hope of finding his brother. The apartment—the place they had last been together before everything collapsed—seemed like the only place left that might still feel familiar. The only place he could imagine finding Brian.

But as Arthur turned down an alley, something changed. The air felt thick, oppressive, and he sensed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Before he could react, a man stepped into his path, his face gaunt and his eyes wild with desperation. He held a knife, the blade glinting in the faint light of the streetlamps.

"Give me your loot," the man snarled, his voice hoarse with hunger and fear. His grip on the knife tightened as he stepped closer, blocking Arthur's way. "I know you've got something."

Arthur's heart raced. He raised his hands defensively, trying to defuse the situation. "I don't want any trouble," he said, backing away slowly. His mind screamed for a way out, but the man's eyes were full of greed.

"You're just another player," the man spat, advancing toward him. "Give me everything, or I'll gut you."

Arthur's pulse quickened. It was safer to die by the blade and respawn, rather than give up the Extra Life token and be at the mercy of this assailant. No matter what, he had to try and escape. I have to get out of here, Arthur thought.

The man lunged.

Arthur spun on his heels, darting down the street as fast as he could. He wasn't enhanced by the Speed Boost anymore, his legs heavy with exhaustion, but fear fuelled his flight. He sprinted past darkened buildings, his eyes scanning for a place to lose his attacker.

The mall. It was just ahead, its shadow looming in the distance. Arthur knew the layout well enough—if he could get inside, maybe he could find a way to hide or defend himself.

He bolted through the mall entrance, the man's footsteps close behind. The interior was dark, abandoned, the storefronts empty and eerie. Arthur's breath came in ragged gasps as he ran up the escalator, his eyes locking onto the faint glow of a powerup at the top.

"Arm Blade activated."

Arthur's right arm transformed, the flesh morphing into a gleaming blade. He whirled around just as the man reached the top of the escalator; his knife raised.

The man froze for a split second, his eyes widening in shock at Arthur's new weapon. But it was too late to stop.

The momentum of the man's lunge carried him forward, and Arthur watched in horror as the man impaled himself on the blade. Blood splattered across the cold mall floor, the man's eyes wide with pain and surprise.

The man's body slumped forward, the knife slipping from his hand as blood pooled beneath him. Arthur stood frozen, his breath ragged, heart thundering in his chest. He stared down at the body impaled on his arm blade, unable to process what had just happened.

"I didn't mean to…" Arthur whispered, his voice trembling, but there was no one to hear him. His arm, still transformed into cold, unfeeling steel, dripped with the man's blood. It was self-defense. He attacked me. I didn't mean for this to happen.

The world felt far away, distant, as if he were watching this nightmare unfold from the outside. He could feel his body shaking, his legs weak beneath him, but he forced himself to move. As the timer ran out, Arthur watched as his arm returned to normal. The blade disappeared, but the blood remained—a stark reminder of what had just happened.

Arthur backed away from the body, his stomach churning with guilt and revulsion. First Luna… and now this. He didn't want to fight, didn't want to kill, but in this twisted world, survival came at a cost. A cost that was growing steeper with each passing moment. He couldn't help but retch. The smell of blood, the puddle of red at his feet—it was vile.

He had no choice but to leave. The city was silent once more, the echoes of his footsteps the only sound as he stumbled out of the mall, the heavy weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. His mind screamed for rest, for some kind of relief from the endless chaos, but there was no time. He had to find Brian.

The journey back to the apartment felt like an eternity, each step heavier than the last. Arthur's body ached, his legs like lead as he dragged himself through the empty streets. The city felt wrong—too quiet, too still, as if the Game had erased everything that once made it alive.

When Arthur finally reached his building, the familiar sight did little to comfort him. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he climbed the stairs, the creaking steps echoing his fatigue. Brian must be here. He has to be.

His hands shook as he fumbled with the keys, the cold metal slipping through his fingers. He pushed open the door, stepping into the dimly lit apartment. Everything was exactly as it had been that morning—the couch cushions still indented, the faint smell of last night's dinner lingering in the air.

But the silence was overwhelming. There was no sign of Brian.

"Brian?" Arthur called, his voice bouncing off the walls, swallowed by the emptiness. He stepped into the kitchen, the bedroom, every corner of the apartment—but it was all the same. Empty. Cold.

His breath caught in his throat as the realization sank in. He's not here.

Arthur collapsed onto the couch, his body shaking with exhaustion and emotion. His mind raced, torn between guilt, fear, and a gnawing sense of despair. Luna was gone. The man at the mall was dead. And now, Brian—his brother, his only anchor in this world—was missing.

Tears welled up in his eyes, his chest heaving as he buried his face in his hands. Everything felt hopeless. He had survived today, won a golden token, and killed to protect himself, but none of it mattered if Brian was gone.

He sobbed into his hands, his body trembling with the weight of everything he had lost. His brother was out there somewhere, lost in this twisted, broken world, and Arthur had no idea where to start looking. All he could do was cling to the hope that Brian was still alive—that somehow, somewhere, they would be reunited.

But that hope felt fragile, like it could shatter at any moment.

The apartment remained silent as Arthur curled up on the couch, exhaustion finally pulling him into a restless sleep. His dreams were haunted by the faces of the dead—Luna's pained expression as she died in his arms, the wild-eyed man's look of shock as he fell on Arthur's blade. Even in sleep, there was no escape from the harsh reality of the Game.

But as Arthur tossed and turned. Tomorrow, he would have to keep fighting. Would life always have to be this way? Each day like this one?

It didn't matter. Arthur had to keep moving forward. For Brian. For survival. For the hope of finding a way out of this nightmare.

As the night wore on, the city outside remained eerily quiet, waiting for the dawn of a new day in the Game.