"Wake up! Do you hear me? Wake up! Valya!" A voice on the brink of madness cut through the darkness. - Please wake up."

The girl gradually woke up. Her head was terribly heavy, like a pile of rocks on her whiskey. It was hard to breathe and soon it became clear why. The oxygen mask was too tight. And the two masks were too much. And the oxygen must have been running out by now.

She tried to move and loosen the mask, but her hands wouldn't listen. It wasn't felt at all, it must have gotten very silent.

"Viv, have you come to your senses?" The guy exclaimed with hope.

"What did you... what have you done?" Her voice was terribly hoarse, the words were hard to come by. "Alex... why did you...?"

She tried to free herself, but she couldn't even move her hands. The guy pulled the girl even harder.

"Easy, easy," Alex exhaled. "You were so close, but this time we blew it dry.. It was the least I could do for you. It's going to be okay now. You woke up... you're alive... I thought..."

His eyes were closing in. The mask may have completely hidden the guy's face from the gaze, but the girl didn't miss the weird shine in his eyes. Valya always saw the fervor, boiling life, a huge sea of energy in Alex's eyes, and now she was increasingly enveloped in the cold of awareness - all this slips away. As if she had thrown away a chewed up unpleasant dream, she cleared her mind and gathered her strength. Let the timer stubbornly approached the zeroes, she refused to accept them, she still had time, everything should be different. But the status indicated that everything had been decided and it was time to give up.

"Take the mask..." she tried to say it in a formidable tone, the words crossed her throat, the oxygen was running out.

All she met was a heavy and distant breath.

"Alexander!"

Several times she gave his name and yet she heard the answer.

"Why? So you'd freak out and smash a cylinder in the back of my head again? You're a little over the top, you know. You're overreacting. That's all it is, it's time to get it right. I had to turn around. And yet it hurt" he breathed heavily and intermittently, but still tried to keep a positive tone.

Sasha was near, she could feel his hot breath. Soon he stumbled. He restrained the coughing attack with all his might and still swallowed the pain in order not to give himself away. But Valya understood everything, she herself went through it as soon as she lost consciousness.

"Lex," the girl beggedly pronounced.

In the shimmering and fickle twilight she found Alex's hand and squeezed it. Having gathered her strength, she rose and soon their shoulders touched. Alex hugged her, while helping her sit next to him. Valya tried to loosen the nodules of the oxygen mask, but in vain.

"I know it's embarrassing, but it was your fault."

Valya had a hoarse voice:

"You're still... you can still..."

Alex ignored her. Valya leaned against his chest so he couldn't see the tears.

"You were breathing a lot of that shit. Don't waste your strength."

She heard how fast his heart was beating. Usually his heartbeat is calm and measured. Valya for a year so accustomed to this knock that she humbly fell asleep only on Sasha's chest, only so she did not suffer nightmares at night.

"And how did you even lift the tank? It's so heavy, I could barely get it to you. What about the fumes? Or did a spider bite you?"

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"You... can... save... yourself," she put all her soul and love into those words.

"Take care of your voice and oxygen, this time it's even smaller," trying to stay calm, he said.

But his heart was giving it away. He kissed her on the forehead, a signature kiss, as he liked to call it, smiling like a Cheshir. Tears were already pouring out of her eyes.

"Keep an eye on the dog when you get back. If I find out he ate my Roger, you'll be real sorry. Otherwise, I won't have anyone to go back to."

Laughing, Alex stroked her on the head. Valya pushed him. This is no time for stupid jokes. His mask lighted up red."

"You're still..."

The guy interrupted her:

"Not anymore... What's done is done. You've been unconscious for a long time... ...and that's since I found you. Maybe more time has passed. If it wasn't for this thing, I'd be wandering around trying to find you in a concrete labyrinth," he's got it harder pressed against him. "It's a pity the battery's going down... Although... ...it's even better. I paid my debt back, and it'll all be over soon. At least, for me. You won't have any extra cargo anymore."

Valya cried without hiding.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It was my fault... It's my fault..."

"No, you're my sun... And I'm just blind, trying to watch you with my own eyes when you should have been given space, although in..."

I'm stuck in it again. Holding on to his throat, he moved away from the wet concrete wall. His breathing was getting harder and harder. He didn't have the strength to contain the new attack anymore. Sasha grabbed air convulsively, but it only got worse. The action of the toxin was manifesting itself more and more. The sounds of wheezing, the inability to swallow clean air - was cooling the soul. He didn't have to come back. It was only her fault.

"Take the mask. Alex!"

Somehow he regained even breath.

"You know, I wrote to you all the time ...but I never said it out loud. I love you."

She made an effort to get up. The cold, slippery concrete wall threatened to tear the skin off her shoulder. She didn't care that the hose that held her life could tear. Step by step, she walked slowly. There was an oxygen tank dragging behind her, making a deaf rattle.

She wanted to hug him, kiss him, get rid of the pain that tormented him. He only wanted to save her and did everything to do so, despite her protests.

There, she found him, slowly went down and leaned against him.

"I love you... more life," the mask muffled the words, but even so, they were heard. "If you are not there, I will die. You are everything to me."

He held her in his arms as much as he could.

"Says the selfish woman who threw me into an adventure that would make my grandmother's ears curl up like her homemade pasta. You weren't really thinking about my feelings," it was harder to talk.

"We can still save ourselves ...together," she didn't want to give up.

"Forget it, that guy in the black mask made it clear... There's no other choice. You have to survive... You have to!" 

"Promise me you won't leave me!" she wanted something that was already impossible.

The lump stood in Alex's throat:

"Of course, always. I'll come back for Roger." He whispered to her.

"Viv... promise me you'll be happy."

She didn't want to answer, the tears said everything instead of words.

Time was running out for both of them. Toxic air and lack of oxygen made more and more sense. After a while, as the timer showed only six zeros, they both fell into oblivion, leaning against each other in a place long abandoned by healthy people.

***

The caretaker was dissatisfied with the result. Things could have turned out quite differently. But he didn't want it to spread. He can't have favourites, impartiality is the main thing of his rules and he wasn't going to break it like any other all these years. Office planktons would call it a perfect example of business ethics, but everything was much more prosaic. If White finds out what the Caretaker is saying, his torn body will most likely be found somewhere in a new dump in an unknown city. Well, let them gnaw at each other to discuss what they've lost.

The whistling sound notified him of the new envelope, making him get away from the monitors and status screens. The caretaker hated the sound, it foreshadowed a lot of trouble. And what contained all the envelopes always amazed him and made his hands unwittingly shiver. He saw a lot of colorful envelopes and every new color scared him, just like this one - purple. The contents of this envelope were no less shocking.

He kept reminding himself that he was as much a hostage as the players. With this Caretaker poured more and more poison on himself, and one day it will consist only of him without a trace.

He carefully sealed the envelope back and almost solemnly handed it to the green mask. The game consumes everyone, and this monster can no longer be defeated. The caretaker could well predict the outcome of the next game, which will only increase by one and not in favor of the players.

He again drew attention to the monitor, where the entire screen was turned the image of a pair lying against the wall. Before his eyes were already the headlines of tomorrow's newspapers. He could see the dumbfounded reporters and journalists. Like vultures, they would write and write, torturing the victim for at least a week until the grey people were tired of seeing the same thing.

He's just a caretaker, his concern is to watch and stop the violation of the rules. It's just a job and another lie.