the fire had long since died out, leaving only embers and the smell of burning in the air. The "beach," once a shining oasis in the chaos, was now a pile of molten metal and blackened boards. The wind lazily fluttered the remains of fabric that had once been flags hanging around the perimeter. There was no music, no laughter, no negotiations for survival. There was no one here.

Except him.

Niragi sat among the charred rubble, leaning against a piece of the collapsed structure. He looked almost dead - his skin was covered in burns, his clothes had been burned away in places, leaving exposed, reddened patches of skin. His machine gun lay nearby, but his fingers were barely able to squeeze the trigger.

You, stood, watching him. He knew you was there, but he did not move. He didn't threaten, didn't laugh, didn't make any sudden movements. "Didn't expect to find me alive?" His voice was hoarse, but still saturated with mockery.