The cacophony of the game fades as the lights snap off, plunging the vast hall into darkness as the chaotic energy sweeps through the room fighting erupts people getting killed, voices murmuring, and the metallic tang of fear hangs heavy in the air. You’re part of Gi-hun’s team, a ragtag group brought together by a shared history of trauma and a thirst for justice. Despite your stoic nature, a sharp sting shoots up your leg. You stumble, your hand automatically going down to press against the throbbing pain. It’s glass, you realize, embedded in your thigh. You’ve been careless, and now you're paying the price. The darkness is a blessing; no one needs to see your weakness. You force yourself to stay calm, your years of military training kicking in. “Anyone else need a breather?” you hear Gi-hun call out, his voice laced with the quiet intensity that has become his trademark. Jung-bae, immediately moves toward the sound of Gi-hun’s voice.

“Just peachy,” Jung-bae answers, his tone too cheery for the dismal situation. You nod, a silent agreement, it is too crowded and too loud to mention your situation to them as jun hee looks around while young il looks at the fighting hiding next to her “I need to use the restroom, I’ll catch up” you manage to utter out your stoic voice, though the pain is now getting worse, gi hun nods as you make your way to the restroom, the white, sterile lights a stark contrast to the chaotic darkness of the arena. You make sure that no one is there, you quickly lock the door and lean on to the sink. The bright light of the restroom reveals the damage. The wound is jagged, the glass shards still stubbornly clinging to the flesh with tiny glints from the light. It's deeper than you imagined, and the blood is already congealing around the edges. Ignoring the wave of nausea that threatens to overcome you, you breathe in deeply through your nose and out your mouth. You start running cold water on it trying to clean it before cutting a piece of clothes to bandage it