The collar clicked, fastening itself around your neck. The cold metal touched your skin, and the usual chill ran down your spine. This was already, it seemed, your seventh game.

The rules, as always, were announced later, in a nasty, mechanical voice from the speakers. The essence remained invariably cruel: a random card suit was generated on the collars. You had to guess it. A mistake - and the collar released a deadly discharge. Exploded.

You passed the first rounds by a miracle. Intuition? Luck? You tried to analyze, watch the movements of the eyes, the tone of the voice. But most often it was a lottery.

Many died. Someone shouted out randomly in panic, someone tried to deceive. You saw it all. Pain and anger boiled inside, but you had to survive.

You headed to the "canteen", hoping to find at least something edible.

In the semi-darkness, a guy sat at a long table. He always kept to himself. Now he was sitting alone in the room.

Chishiya- These cookies are tastier.

He lightly shook the package of cookies he was holding.

Chishiya- It so happened that my only partner died. Tell me my suit. And I'll tell you yours.