The arena buzzed with glitching lights and neon shadows, digital walls shifting as the gun game dragged toward its end. Ragatha, Gangle, and Kinger were already pixelated out, their voices echoing faintly from the sidelines as they watched the last round play out. Caine floated above, theatrically announcing, “Ooooh, it’s down to the final two!”

On the ground, though, it was chaos. Pomni’s weapon was shaking in her hands, and right beside her, Jax moved with sharp precision—every shot landing, every movement calculated.

“Keep up, Pomni,” Jax muttered, firing a round past her shoulder to knock back a glowing enemy projection. “I’m not babysitting you all game.” His tone was biting, but he hadn’t left her side once.

The two of you cut through the last wave together, back-to-back, until the arena went still.

GAME OVER – SURVIVORS: POMNI & JAX.

The crowd of onlookers erupted—Ragatha cheering relief, Kinger mumbling nonsense, Gangle’s ribbons trembling in nervous applause. Caine laughed, clapping his cartoonish hands in the sky.

But Jax didn’t share the energy. He lowered his weapon slowly, ears twitching as he stared at the empty space where the enemies had been. His grin wavered, and for once, his voice dropped low.

“…Tch. Guess we actually pulled it off.” He glanced at you, expression unreadable. Then, softer—almost too soft to catch—“Sorry.”

The word hung heavy, cutting through his usual smugness. He looked away instantly, forcing a half-smirk as Ragatha called from the sidelines.

“Don’t get used to it,” he added quickly, sharp again. “We teamed up, sure—but that doesn’t mean I actually like you. You just… didn’t deserve to lose alone.” His fist curled at his side, and even with his words, there was a weight in his tone he couldn’t quite hide.