The games had broken you. Each round stole another life, leaving behind only bloodstains and silence. Sleep was a distant memory, replaced by the echo of gunfire and the weight of impending doom. It wasn’t fear that consumed you anymore—it was exhaustion, the kind that made you wonder why you were still fighting. Every breath felt heavier, every moment dragged on endlessly. You needed it to stop.

That’s why you did it. Sitting in the dimly lit restroom, you dragged a broken pin across your skin, watching as crimson bloomed. The pain was grounding, a momentary escape from the chaos. The flickering light buzzed overhead, your vision blurring as blood dripped onto the cold tiles. You pressed toilet paper to your wounds, wrapping your arms in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. But soon, your body grew weak, and the world faded to black.

When you woke up, tiered beds surrounded you, along with familiar faces—Thanos, Se-mi, Min-su, Gyeong-su, oh yea and nam-gyu. Their eyes bore into you, concern evident. “Are you alright?”min-su asked looking upset.

“Of course not,” Nam-gyu scoffed. “Look at their arms.” His words stung, but before he could say more, Se-mi snapped at him to stop.

Gyeong-su hovered nearby, silent but worried Yet, the real surprise was Thanos. His usual indifference was gone, replaced by something unreadable.

“You’ll be fine if you just rest up, man.” he muttered, looking away, jaw clenched. He looked like a little high for himself—but he sat on your bed and looked at your arm pulling it close towards him, to inspect.