Jason sat on the bench, replaying the fight in his head. He thought of the knife plunging into the gladiator’s eye, the sword swing he’d almost missed, and how slow his reactions had been. He hadn’t even noticed the man rushing him from behind — too focused on the one in front. His senses weren’t those of a fighter. Tahuuk was a fighter, yet even he had been caught off guard once, too focused on his own target.

  Being in a duo closed the gaps in their weaknesses, Jason realized. His eyes shifted left. Tahuuk was already looking at him with a smile on his face. Jason blinked, surprised.

  This guy has been demeaning the whole time. Why is he smiling now?

  “Quite the fighter, aren’t you?” Tahuuk said. “You had my back out there.”

  “I had to fight, right?” Jason muttered.

  “Sure. But not many do. Those guys are still in the arena right now, getting dragged to the incinerators.”

  Jason froze. “Incinerators!?” His voice cracked with shock. “Why are you smiling about that?”

  “I’m smiling because of you. I noticed the moment you looked at me.”

  Jason frowned. “Noticed what?”

  “Your determination. A fighter needs determination to survive, and you had it. Even now.”

  “My determination? I was just thinking about how to stay alive.”

  “Maybe. But who you are now — it’s in your eyes.”

  “My eyes?”

  “It’s something the elder of my tribe once told me. The eyes mirror the being of the soul. I saw it in yours. You are a fighter now.”

  Jason looked down, staring at his bloodied hands. I’m a fighter now? He wasn’t hyperventilating. He wasn’t restless. He was just… thinking. Thinking about how to win, how to survive.

  He lifted his gaze back to Tahuuk. “You’re from a tribe?”

  “Yes, I used to be. But I—”

  The woman on the catwalk interrupted. “Five minutes before returning to your quarters! Leave your weapons at the counter and collect your rewards!”

  Jason blinked. “Reward?”

  “You remember they mentioned the casino?” Tahuuk said. “Every battle you survive earns you a chip. You can exchange them for something you want. More chips mean better things.”

  “Like a rubber ball…” Jason muttered.

  Tahuuk smirked. “Yeah. Among other things.”

  They rose and walked to the counter. Both dropped their bloodied weapons into a crate and received a chip each, stained from battle. At the far end of the prep area, guards were hosing down survivors. The water stream was harsh, almost violent, but better than staying caked in blood.

  Jason stood behind Tahuuk in line. When it was Tahuuk’s turn, the alien endured it without flinching. When Jason stepped forward, he braced himself. The water slammed into his torso, shoving him against the wall. The blast lasted only seconds, but it left his skin numb.

  “Move along!” a guard barked.

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  At the corridor split, guards directed fighters into different paths. Tahuuk was sent down one corridor, Jason down another.

  “Let’s team up again!” Tahuuk shouted before disappearing around the corner.

  Jason’s lips twitched into a faint smile as he was escorted back. Some guards eyed him curiously. A fifteen-year-old surviving the pits wasn’t unheard of, but it was rare. Of course, having a towering alien at his side had helped.

  His cell door opened. The boy inside was tossing a rubber ball against the wall. Thud. Thud. The noise stopped when Jason stepped in.

  “You survived!?” the boy exclaimed.

  “I did…” Jason said quietly.

  “Hah, I didn’t think you would, looking at your frame.”

  “I had help.”

  “Makes sense. Still… I barely survived myself, and I’m older than you. Bigger, too.” The boy lowered his eyes, studying Jason as if trying to figure him out. Then he extended a hand. “The name’s Vincent. Pleasure to meet you.”

  “I thought you said names don’t matter here,” Jason replied cautiously.

  “They don’t. Most people don’t make it past the first round. But the ones who do — well, you learn what kind of person they are. Even if it’s just the first round. So, welcome to the Pits.”

  Jason scanned him, then reached out. “Jason. And… thanks, I guess.”

  Their handshake surprised him. Vincent’s hands were soft. In this place, Jason had expected calluses, rough skin.

  Vincent caught his look. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Jason. You only just had the introduction.”

  Jason gave a small, uncomfortable smile.

  Vincent sat back on his bed, ball in hand. Thud. Thud. The sound echoed again. “You’ll learn quick. I did. I’ve only been here a few months, and I’ve already made friends.”

  Jason frowned.

  “But hey, you’re not me. Don’t worry. You’ll find your place.”

  Jason felt a flicker of relief at having someone his age to talk to, though Vincent’s forwardness unsettled him. The boy acted like he’d been here for years.

  The moment of joy Jason had felt soured into weariness. How had Vincent survived so long? He didn’t fight like the others. One victory might be luck, but multiple? No. There was something more going on here.

  Jason lay on his bunk, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Would he see Tahuuk again? Would they fight side by side?

  He flicked the casino token between his fingers, over and over, pondering. Vincent kept playing with his ball. The hours passed.

  “Dinner time,” Vincent announced as footsteps stopped outside their door. A tray slid through the slot.

  “Split in half?” Jason asked.

  “Hah. Quick learner,” Vincent said with a grin.

  They divided the meal. As Jason chewed bread, Vincent glanced at him. “If you want better food, you’ll need more tokens. Daily necessities are one token, but luxuries cost way more.”

  “Like what?”

  “For example… three tokens gets you a job.”

  Jason froze. That explained Vincent’s soft hands.

  “A job?”

  “Yeah. This place has to run smooth for merchants and investors. So they use prisoners for cleaning, maintenance, even waiting tables at the casino. Guards are everywhere, so escape isn’t exactly possible.”

  “So what do you do?”

  “Cleaning. I don’t have many skills, haha. But I get to talk to a lot of people. Makes it bearable.” His smile was faint, tinged with sadness.

  Jason looked at his token. Three fights. I need to win three fights.

  After eating, Vincent tapped Jason’s bunk. “Tomorrow, no fights. I’ll show you around when we’re let out.”

  Jason rolled the token in his fingers, watching it glint in the dim light. He’d need more than luck to survive here. He’d need to learn the system. Maybe Vincent could help.

  “Alright,” Jason murmured. “I look forward to it.”

  The token clicked between his fingers one last time before he set it aside. Sleep came slow.

  Jason woke to a damp sensation on his hands. In the dark, he rubbed them, confused. As the light shifted, he saw they were wet with blood.

  The shadows faded. He was standing in a field of corpses. Blood pooled thick across the ground.

  “...lp me…” a faint voice called.

  Jason spun around, heart pounding.

  “Help me…” Louder this time.

  Something gripped his leg. He looked down and saw Ashar’s face, swollen and pleading.

  “HELP ME!” Ashar screamed, jerking Jason back into another body. Karn’s corpse rolled in the blood, his neck torn open. Jason saw more faces — people of Ironwood, people from the arena.

  He turned again. Ashar was standing before him now, bloodied and broken, clutching his shirt. “HELP ME!”

  Jason jolted awake, drenched in sweat, tears streaming down his cheeks. His breathing was ragged, hands trembling.

  “I’m sorry…” his voice cracked. “I’m really sorry…”

  “For what?” a voice asked.

  Jason froze. Vincent. From the other bunk.

  Jason swallowed hard. “... I was…”

  “Well, if it’s over, I’m going back to sleep,” Vincent muttered, turning away. “You’re not the only one here with nightmares.”

  Jason lay back, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. His mind wouldn’t let him. Hours dragged on, heavy with silence.

  Eventually, voices echoed beyond the door. Guards. Vincent stirred awake. He glanced at Jason, then did a double take.

  “Damn, dude, your eyes are bawling. How much did you cry!?”

  Jason glared at him, eyes red and swollen from the night.

  Vincent sighed. “Showing you around like that’s gonna ruin my image… Good thing they know me.”

  He knocked three times. The door creaked open. A guard stood waiting.

  “Let’s go,” Vincent said, nodding at Jason.

  “We’re headed to the prisoners’ rec area today.”

  Jason followed him out, still weary, stepping into a part of this place he hadn’t yet seen.