My mother was dead.

  It was obvious the moment I saw her laying down in her bed. That fake, disgusting mockery of her image had the audacity to take Momma Zoorhees’ place, and there were three signs that exposed her trickery.

  The first and the most apparent sign was her smell. She didn’t just smell like a zombie. The scent of Jerome Hunter was latched onto her like corpses that overstayed their welcome in a room. The second I walked into the basement that fateful day, a rush of excitement coursed through my veins — a feeling that only occurred when I sensed the Type Two was near me. Momma never made me that excited when I was around her. I had to hold my own arm back from crushing her skull.

  Not to mention, she’d only have that wonderful stench if she could actually go outside. A transformation ability lost points when you couldn't make up for all five of the human senses.

  The second sign was her dry face. Momma would always sweat in my presence. Even if there was only a single bead of it, I’d notice it instantly.

  The third and most important were her eyes. They were the eyes of a parent worried about their child’s safety, wondering where they were. My mother would never give me such loving eyes.

  After I figured it all out, the KB had no other choice but to reveal themselves. I probably would have killed her if she was affiliated with the Underground Radius.

  Who knew that father-daughter duo could be so cruel? So heartless. To take advantage of someone’s dead mother like that.

  If I was a good son, I would’ve ended this month-long game we just started, made him watch as I tortured and beheaded his daughter, and then killed him.

  However, instead of anger or an intense bloodlust, pleasure flowed through me — a sick, revolting pleasure. I greatly enjoyed the possibility that I had tainted that so-called “hero” so much that he resorted to such a horrible act.

  Perhaps killing the KB would serve as a “two can play it that game” kind of thing. But if she was an integral part of Jerome and Sunshine’s plan, then I wanted to see the full extent of it.

  Besides, if she was dead, then I wouldn’t have anyone to play this new board game someone let me borrow. Actually, the guy was dead, but he was clinging on to the board like it was his kitchen knife. It felt wrong not to give it back at a later date.

  The KB didn’t say a word when I walked in, and she flinched like a startled bunny. It made sense. Today was only the second time we were going to interact since the day I destroyed her attempt at tricking me. In her mind, any wrong move would mean the end.

  I pulled up a chair to the small round table she was sitting at. Her legs were wide open.

  “Close your legs,” I calmly demanded. “You’re a woman.”

  The KB did it instantly, getting on her knees. Even if she was affiliated with Jerome, that instinct to follow orders the Underground instilled in her was still present. Whether it be the zombie or the Radius, she was always just going to be a slave.

  Pathetic.

  The board game left my hand, landing on the table. The KB’s eyes widened with curiosity, leaning in to get a closer look. While she did that, I took out the rule book for the game and began reading.

  The name was “War for Freedom”. Each player had their own army, and the goal was to reach a place called the “Promised Neverland” — a place where dreams came true and life became eternal. But only one side could make it to the finish line, meaning combat was inevitable.

  I gave myself and the KB ten little green army men figures each. You could only have a maximum of ten, but there were a lot more in case someone lost them, or if there were more than two players.

  Cards were stacked neatly in the box as well. One-hundred of them. All of them had different, unique scenarios that were implemented into the battle every one minute. I guess the reason was to add some randomness to it.

  My eyes scanned the lore behind “War for Freedom” when the sound of the KB’s knee banging the table became too annoying to ignore.

  “You are distracting me. Be silent,” I ordered, keeping my eyes on the book. “Or I’ll kill you.” She froze like a mouse trapped in the corner about to be devoured by a feline.

  I pretended to read the story for another thirty seconds, but I didn’t want to waste any more time on an effortless story clearly written at the last minute.

  I placed the hundred card deck on the table. “Let’s begin.”

  “Aren’t you going to explain the rules?” the KB asked quietly, inspecting one of the army men. “I can’t fully understand the goal of this recreational experience without them.”

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  “You can learn naturally as we move forward. It will be more interesting that way.” Yes, it was a handicap, but I wanted to see if she could break through the wall I placed in front of her and find victory.

  The woman placed the soldier back down, brows furrowing. “Very well.”

  The first thing I did was have my soldiers scatter across the city, hiding in buildings, inside cars, and anywhere else they couldn't be easily seen in. That left the KB only one possible option: have her army search every nook and cranny for only ten men.

  Every move we made had to be said out loud, but we still needed to abide by realism. She knew my hiding spots. Her soldiers didn’t, meaning the KB had to account for how long the search would be, how tired their bodies would be, the feeling of eyes all around them, and the fear of being shot from anywhere.

  All of those things must’ve been swirling around your head, huh, KB? Or maybe it wasn’t. A docile creature like her wasn’t made for combat or strategy.

  I was. A win for me was inevitable, so why was I even playing this with her? If she couldn't find a way to beat my soldiers, then what good was she to the father-daughter duo.

  Maybe I should kill her after this.

  But then, the KB yawned. If she could yawn in this situation, that must’ve meant there was already a counter to my plan brewing in her mind. What could it be though?

  “My army, rush to the finish line. On foot.”

  My teeth clenched, and the atmosphere became heavy. This was supposed to be a fight to the death. Why was her team running?

  “My army, rush to the finish line as well! Use all resources at your disposal to get there before her team. Cars, fallen bikes, anything.”

  “Realistically, since my army is going there as a whole unit, everyone arrives at the gate at the same time. And they will wait there. As for your team…” She grabbed one of her soldiers. “They would all come at different times, considering you scattered them across the city. Leaving them each vulnerable to a ten-on-one encounter.”

  So this wasn’t a cowardly escape. She was setting up a mouse trap. “You might say that, however, your soldiers went there on foot. Mines didn’t. A few of my men arrive at your location and ram into-”

  “Abide by realism.”

  I froze.

  That was a phrase a player could say if someone gave an unrealistic order, but they’d have to provide accurate reasoning as to why it wasn’t realistic. The one who gave the order had the option of countering the argument, but so did the one who called out “abide by realism”.

  How did the KB know about those words if they were only in the book?

  She continued. “You can’t ram into ten people with firearms, and not expect to be at the other end of gunfire. One of the weak points of a vehicle are the tires. In other words, my army tears through the car’s tires, and then shoots your soldier through his windows, killing him.”

  As she knocked down one of my little army men on the board, multiple moves flooded into my head, and yet not a single one led me to victory. One by one, all my soldiers fell until there was one left.

  He didn’t last long either. Her army waltzed toward the Promised Neverland with ease.

  That game lasted fifty-five seconds.

  “It appears that I’ve won rather easily,” she said with a confused look. “I presumed the deck of cards here would've had a bigger role.”

  Her confusion paled in comparison to mine. “Why did you order your soldiers to run away from the fight?” My hand was itching to rip her throat out, but I held back the urge. At least, until she explained.

  “It occurred to me forty seconds before our match ended that you were playing under the idea that our armies had to fight. But it was obvious to me that the goal was simply to get to the finish line. Combat was not needed.”

  My aura spiked, though the KB didn’t seem affected by it.

  “Or so I thought,” she went on, calming me down a little. “Just because my army passes through the gate and ‘wins’, it doesn’t mean your army couldn't just follow us

  inside. So they all needed to be crushed. Like ants. That was the only path to true victory.”

  “If that was the case, you could’ve ended the game much quicker. Why did you make me wait forty seconds for you to speak?”

  “Honestly? It was because I was stunned and disappointed.” Her voice was starting to become casual.

  “Stunned? Disappointed? About what?”

  “Well, I’ve been told by many surface dwellers that Jason Zoorhees was a formidable, deadly being. It seemed out of character for you to go with such a cowardly approach.”

  The real coward… was me?

  The corners of my lips crept up.

  I could turn this woman into chunks of emerald goop with a single punch, but she had totally and utterly defeated me without laying a single finger on me.

  I put all the soldiers back on their feet. “KB, again.”

  “Another game?” she asked.

  I tossed the rule book at her, which KB failed to catch. “We both were not using the full extent of our power. And my apologies for withholding the rules from you. It was a pathetic way of giving you a handicap.”

  Her jaw slacked open.

  “Pick up the book and read it. Or I’ll kill you.”

  “A-Affirmative!”

  The cards became more involved in the second match, but it only took one to finish me off. The scenario given was “child suicide bombers”, plaguing the field with their incessant laughter and innocent, unaware of their fate. Her and I were given ten each, but they didn’t have the chance to explode on my side. My army snuffed them out with ease.

  KB went with a different approach — one that made my body tingle with delight. Her soldiers successfully removed the bombs from the children’s waists, and strapped them onto themselves. So when our armies collided, even when my men’s bullets pierced through them, the explosives reduced them all to blood and bones.

  Aside from one soldier. A single soldier on the woman’s team that ran to the Promised Neverland before our armies clashed.

  It didn’t make sense. “Why didn’t you just have the kids killed?”

  “Even if I did, it wouldn’t have disarmed the bombs,” she answered.

  “Then just kill them and run away right after.”

  “I wanted to achieve success without the deaths of those adolescents.”

  “Why!?” I shouted, slamming my hand down on the table, eyes squinting. “If you had your soldiers act as mindless bombs just to take my team out, then I wouldn’t be so angry. But having them do it to save weak, small-minded children? Pathetic! Tell me why!”

  KB stared at me for a while, quickly thinning my patience. What was the point of showering one group with your cruelty when you could just do it to everyone? It was a waste of her intelligence, a waste of the beautiful potential within her mind.

  “It’s because that would be the result Jerome Hunter — that Type Two surfer fool — would consider the most successful. And as of right now, I find my outcome more enjoyable much more than what you desired.”

  I swung my hand at her neck, intending to chop it off. But I stopped inches - no, millimeters away. I blinked. She blinked. It wasn’t until the second round of blinks that KB how close she came to the end.

  “O-Oh my!” the woman exclaimed, retreating to the wall behind her.

  I reeled my hand back, and glared at it. Was that paralysis? Part of her Radius Ability? There was no way I’d skip out on killing someone unless they were skilled enough to stop me.

  That thought process was shattered by a train of memories rushing into my brain, splattering images of that woman all over — the woman I didn’t murder. What was her name again? Hillary? All I needed was her death to bring me to fifty kills that day, and yet when my blade touched her skin as she slept peacefully, it did not sink in any deeper.

  It wasn’t just that I didn’t kill her. I couldn’t bring myself to.

  Was a meal and a couple of kind words enough to change my mind? Or enough for me to waste time on a written apology?

  “Hey, you!” KB pulled my attention towards her. “As a Kare-Bot specifically created to be a scientist, I find the murder of adolescents and most other humans to be a complete waste of and an absolute disservice to the concept of potential! If a brute such as Jerome can understand that, then he and I are like-minded beings. If you intend to destroy that concept, then we will combat you!”

  After a declaration of war like that, the ocean of perplexity I was in became bigger and darker than ever. Not a single nice word left her mouth, so what could’ve possibly made this a similar situation to the one with Hillary?

  My eyes went downward. There was a crack on my side of the table, but the board game was unharmed. I had no idea why, but that made me relieved. I guess if it had broken, then KB would've been undefeated against me.

  “Do you have an actual name? One that isn’t connected to ‘KB’?” I had never met a KB that wasn’t completely obedient, or had a mindset like hers.

  She sat up, furrowing her brows. “I am called KB-1…” Her eyes softened. “My name is Emmy. Which I’ve been told is short for Emerald.”

  “Let’s play another game, Emerald,” I said, picking the army toys up.

  “Another one?”

  “Until I get tired.”