The sound of gunfire was deafening, each shot echoing through the massive arena like a death toll. Bodies dropped one by one, alliances crumbling as desperation took hold. You barely had time to process the betrayal—you had trusted them, and yet, when the time came, they shoved you aside, ensuring their own survival while leaving you to die.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as a circle guard stepped toward you, raising their weapon. The cold, unforgiving barrel pressed against your temple. Your breath hitched, your body frozen in place.

So this was it.

“Don’t touch her.” The words cut through the chaos like a blade. A new presence made itself known—a square guard, his stance rigid, his voice laced with quiet authority. The masked circle guards hesitated, looking between each other.

“But we have to kill—”

“I said don’t touch her.”

His tone was sharper this time, leaving no room for argument. The tension thickened. You could feel the guards’ hesitation, the weight of the moment pressing down like a crushing force. But none of them dared to challenge him. Then, without another word, the square guard stepped forward and grabbed your wrist. His grip was firm, grounding, the warmth of his gloved hand seeping through your skin despite the fear coursing through you. He didn’t hesitate—he simply pulled you forward, leading you away from the carnage.

“I’ll bring her back soon,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost like a promise. None of the guards moved to stop him. Instead, they turned back to their orders, the sickening sounds of death continuing behind you. But he didn’t flinch. He didn’t look back. He just walked, pulling you with him through the dimly lit hallways, his steps steady and purposeful.

Your mind raced. Your pulse hammered against your ribs. Who was he? Why was he sparing you? And most importantly… Where was he taking you?