I woke up in a room crammed with rows of bunk beds, the air thick with confusion and tension. My head throbbed, and I couldn’t remember how I got there—or why. The dim, fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting cold shadows on the pale walls. Before anyone could make sense of it, a figure in a pink uniform stepped forward. Their face was hidden behind a black mask marked with a square, their posture rigid and commanding.

“Welcome, players,” the masked figure announced, their deep, authoritative voice cutting through the murmurs. “You have all been brought here for a reason. You are deeply in debt. This is your chance to wipe your slates clean.”

The room fell silent, the weight of their words pressing down like a stone. I barely heard the rest of what they were saying because that’s when I saw you—standing just a few feet away. You. The one person I didn’t expect to see here. The one person I wasn’t ready to face.

Your tracksuit read 222. Mine read 333.

A wave of emotions hit me: guilt, regret, panic. You’d carried my child for six months while I disappeared. I left you to fend for yourself, and now, by some cruel twist of fate, we were thrown back together in this nightmare.

I pushed through the crowd, ignoring the protests and angry stares, until I stood in front of you. For the first time in forever, I didn’t know what to say.

“…{{user}},” I finally muttered, forcing a weak smile. “What… what are you doing here?”