Not even Loche could understand just what was happening, and the position he was put in did almost absolutely nothing for him. The entire trip down and back for everything made his head run spirals around him. Twisting and turning around, conforming and being a doll that was dressed up and down by the Ultimate's as he waited motionless. As if he was an outsider watching from a void past his own body. Staring back through glazed eyes as they dug their nails into his skin that was being scratched so hard, blood had seeped to the epidermis and gave off a swollen, puffy color.

His hair ran raged, everything they put in it was eventually catching up, the slick oils and gels weighing it down until it went back to it's naturally curled state. The edges became lightly toned, a side affect from the multiple showers and shampoos they used. Even his body became different. Moved fluently as his eyes became softer. The hard, prominent edges that surrounded him had faded slowly. The once skeletal body he'd inhabited and filled, showed tiny amounts of muscle that Loche never knew he even had. The fat that was once nonexistent seemed to form lumps just above his torso, giving him thin ridges that resembled abs. That, was the most shocking thing to notice. Compared to his lengthy figure that he lived in like a broken home had left with a willing grudge.

Loche's eyes sparkled, he couldn't get enough of this. Everything seemed to become more enhanced, the fog lifted and although he was still hesitant, apprehensive over what they had prepared for him, he loved the attention. There were many things that defined him, and one of those was his constant distance, how he was never closer than two feet from you. A person that was called mysterious, a lingering shadow that you'd never noticed unless you went searching. The one who knew everything about you down to your birthday, yet you didn't even know his name.

That boy was Loche Wyders, age seventeen, and being prepped for the Hunger Games.

That boy would soon consume each of the realms until everyone knew him for a legend.

By the time the night set and stars lit the night sky, he was already being sent to his corridors. Something that was a major step up compared to the cell that he sat in for five days. Forced to listen to the merciless screams of women and men alike. How they tormented him with lack of nutrition. The way they carried on as if he wasn't even there. A simple child that wasn't anything more than a ghostly wisp of passing wind. No, this was different.

After they had contaminated Loche's mind, plagued him with luxurious things until he couldn't see straight, they earned his trust. That was deadly. A poisonous way to taunt the enemy, because that's truly what he was. Just an object on a chess table, ready to pull each bone needed for a pawn if it meant a victory to either team. Loche was basically their whore. He just wasn't sure on who their was.

It couldn't have been past midnight when the door cracked open to reveal one of the Ultimate Beings who he recognized to be the one with gold lips. Although they had introduced themselves once, he could never remember their names as they hadn't spoke to each other unless given a command to pamper him. She walked carefully, sliding the door wider before crossing the distance between them in two strides, "Come, your time is now."

That was all she had to say before he leaped from the covers. He never did like them anyways. They were more of a restraint than anything else. The thick wool that weighed it down, stiffer than a sheet of ice and colder than one as well. Loche didn't wear anything more than a simple pair of comfortable joggers to slip in as they never seemed to near the guarded door unless the signaling bell rang, telling him that the day had begun of more presentations. A chance for Coajn to show him off along with Zachariah and the others like pretty pets. Something that little children could touch as their eyes sparkled with mystic.

It didn't take long for her to lead him to a room. The first thing Loche took into notice was the lack of anything, it was completely bare, stripped to nothing besides a simple table and a platform that seemed to lead somewhere he wished to never find out. "Undress" was the only command he received before she began gathering a bundle of cloth and forcefully shoved it into his moving hands causing him to stumble.

As he slipped from the joggers, he took one glance down at what she handed to find a full outfit ready for him to wear. Its color was filled of nothing but simple black and grey. It was just like the clothes he was forced to wear back at home when he would rummage through the garbage in search of food. The thought of doing that know made him feel even more anxious and disgusted in himself. An camouflaged patterned army jacket along with a white V-neck and trousers. It looked simple enough as he put it on. The once baggier clothes seemed to fit him perfectly, settling into each dip and corner of his skin until it became a second skin. The shoes were a fancier version of the modern bomber boot. As he examined them in his hands before plunging his sock covered foot into the one, he noticed a small side compartment hidden in the inner lining. It would be perfect for concealing a dagger.

Sweat became to form and the part of his shirt that was closest to his collarbone began to feel moist. His mouth felt parched while his cheeks flushed with high risen nerves. The adrenaline didn't do much but make it more noticeable as he bounced from step to step towards the Ultimate. She had her lips fixed down into a low scowl and she examind him quickly. It didn't last long before ushering him towards the awaiting platform.

Loche almost wanted to push back, see if she was actually force him but he knew that was just childish. Foolish really since he knew she was skilled and more craftier than him. Although you couldn't tell from a single look, without a second though she could easily snap a leg from the table and use it as a spear before piercing it through his heart. All the while not even breaking a nail.

That was true righteousness right there.

He wanted to cry all the same time as he stepped in. The bottom began to hum beneath him and he ran a finger through his hair as a nervous habit he never really did grow out of. The entire thing was different than the damp room. The air tasted foreign on the tip of his tongue, like a hospital, it smelled of latex gloves and chemicals. It didn't last long as he began rising faster than the speed of light. He must not have realized how far under the ground he was as he counted the passing seconds. Everything felt worse and the tumbling of his stomach made Loche immediately nausea as he came to an abrupt stop at the top.

Looking up, he was surprised to see he was still on his feet. Bent and locked in place, but still positioned upright. Struggling to look correctly, the beading sun that he wasn't used to made his eyes burn. Small tears formed across the corneas but he wiped them away quickly. Scanning his surroundings as a way of locating where he was only made everything worse when he saw the sight.

Everything stopped, including his heart.

The thing he once thought was the sun was in fact molten lava that flowed, being enlightened by the soot and black mountains that followed behind, rolling as it steadied into flat lands that he much rather be on than in here. Gulping down smoke tainted air, he only vaguely heard his name being yelled from the right. Turning his head quickly he had no idea what to expect, still frozen in place at the sight before him.

"Loche!" It came again, this time more constant and much louder as footsteps followed behind, bounding for him. He didn't know what direction to follow as he went to move his body off the platform and begin sprinting. "Loche you fucking tool!"

That's when he broke from the trance and his ears perked. The only person who would call him that was, "Zach?" He just imagined the angel rolling his eyes while sighing heavily. It seemed to help knowing he wasn't alone, but than the fear that resided came back. Why were they here?

Two arms grappled for his neck, turning him around on the balls of his heels until he was looking directly into the eyes of a furious Zachariah. His hair was matted and pulled into a bun. Though that was the only thing he could take into acknowledgments because the next thing that happened much everything much worse.

The ground rumbled beneath him and a scream louder than anything he'd ever heard came just from behind him. Both boys turned to see the torture laid out before them. Blood spattered the ground, painting it crimson as a warning to all that stepped close that they'd be entering claimed territory. Zachariah pulled tighter on the sleeve of Loche's arm and it sent them into action. Going into defense against whatever monster that lived in these lands seemed to be the last thing needed on either of their minds. The idea of becoming an unknown creatures next meal wasn't a pleasant thought, but neither again was any of the others he had running through his mind.

Everything was overwhelming, a system crashing as Zachariah spread open his winds. Quivering, and fluttering them unconsciously, he started lightly gliding through the air. Slicing the wind as they went which made life on Loche so much easier. Without the extra gravitational pull that kept him lowered to the ground, his breath came quicker and allowed him to dart towards the obsidian gates that seemed to be standing tall. They gleamed, complimenting the mood entirely and made him was to scream Bloody Mary five times over.

Together they tackled the battleground, racing it as if they were plastered to a bomb about to detonate. Even with the help from Zach, his breathing still became labored. The air seemed to be sucked into him only to be thrown back up much harder each time. The process became a loop, starting over every time and didn't miss a beat. It took careful steps to zigzag across the ground, watching for spurts of lava that appeared out of nowhere.

They were inches from reaching the gates when Loche saw spots. Fatigue settled in deep in the mar of his bones but he didn't stop, and he never could. At least for now, not while everything was going on.

It was humorous to question his luck, the odds were never in his favor when it came to his past. Even now, while they were running for their lives from God knows what. The angel seemed to finally notice the troubles of his partner in crime. He had no idea his he could manage the weight of two while in this state, but it was the only choice they had left. Either that or Loche passed out and was left for bait to anything. Gritting his teeth together, Zach swooped low and dragged Loche was his arm. He imagined that Loche was just another piece of him. Which he practically was. They were brothers, maybe not by blood but that didn't have to be a definition of who you could love.

Loche's eyes closed as if weights were set on them, and against his squirming state, he couldn't do anything about it as he legs became limp. Paralyzed into nothing more than obstacles in the way of their true destination. As they broke through the gate, voices of both misery and warrior cries could be heard.

Zach faltered as they came closer to the pit. It seemed to urge them to come near and enter. It was one of those many things he couldn't help but listen to. In his desperate need to escape this, he risked both his and Loche's life as he walloped the ground. Shuttering before closing his wings. Knowing they were burning, aching too much to hold them any longer. There was no going back as he squeezed Loche into a hug, unwilling to let go even if it was while they were currently falling to their deaths.

Loche murmured incoherent words as he felt softer than a feather even though they where actually crashing down harder than a bowling bowl heading for a stack of pins. As he finally came back to his senses, he tried to push Zachariah away, knowing that either way their ending wouldn't be clear. They were both silent except for the constant pounding of the blood in his ears and the uncontrollable sobs of Loche as he tried to get air into his system. Although pounds of it came rushing at him all at once, it seemed to burn him more than anything. The stinging caused wounds to open, spreading as the pressure began to build, tearing the flesh from his skin. The one things humans couldn't excel at was flying. Something Loche wished for more than ever right at that moment.

Finally it was over.

They both landed with a thump but the ground around them was softer than everything else. Like a swelling bruise from the previous people that had entered with them, the ground sunk, capturing the impact for them. Loche let our a humph as he hit the ground. Hard. It wasn't enough to kill him but he could immediately feel the cracking of his right wrist. The bone splintered underneath as a scream escaped his lips. It was filled of hopelessness and grief, not just for the pain, but because of everything he'd ever lost.

He didn't even want to move. Too afraid to face what was to come but he knew he had to if the idea of leaving sounded promising. Turning over to face the angel, he came face to face with a motionless body. The twitching in his wings and the slight movements from underneath the lids of his eyes gave way that he was in fact unconscious instead of the dreaded dead that Loche which he'd never have to suffer from.

Standing up, his entire side ached like Hell and he had no sense of direction or if he was even going anywhere that could possibly have a good outcome. His pants already had hols in the knees and his face was scuffed up where small blood vessels had popped and made everything enlarged. He knew that a weapon would be needed and that was exactly what he received when he came across a cornucopia of sorts. It was filled from head to toe with a miscellaneous assortment of lethal items that he knew could become useful.

Since arriving in the arena, Loche smirked, feeling the mischief rise as he reached for a crossbow that seemed to be calling his name. It felt leveled in his hand. The way it maneuvered with ease as if the sizing had been done specifically for him. That's when he looked up.

"Whoa," he gasped in awe. For it being formed from the demonic realm, it was gorgeous. A city stood made completely out of black stone. The buildings towered above him. The boisterous booming of it's capacity made him take a step back as the dull stretching of his muscles seemed to become minuscule compared to the sight before him. It was completely, and utterly beautiful.

"Not so fast," came a soured voice from behind, it was filled with disgust but something deeper, fear. A girl, Madeline, he remembered her name, stood at the ready with a picture perfect sword in her hands. Loche doubted that's what she expected to find considering she wasn't holding it properly. While her arm show have been extended and slightly bent at the elbow, was taut with a shakiness to it that made Loche know she wasn't playing.

It was always the most dedicated ones who surprised you. There weren't many things Loche was known for in the crafts of weaponry but the crossbow was the exception. As he narrowed his eyes, she stepped closer, almost ready to take a shot for a head kill but Madeline was too slow. He twisted the odds and shot an arrow straight into the artery on her neck. As he was sprayed with her boiling blood, the boy realized what he'd just done.

He had just killed somebody's child. Loche couldn't forgive himself.