Five's boots crunched against the charred marks around the fortress' radius. It had been a long time ago, but the burn splotches still haven't faded. Even the grass growing over what once had been a barren field barely did anything.

She craned her neck to the sky, squinting against the morning sun. Fourteen's hole through the conservatory's wall was uncovered, but the silencer and her rifle's nozzle were nowhere to be found. The past few days have been quiet, with no counter alarms screaming at them to start jumping around with their abilities ablaze. Her hair had resumed its normal growth, reaching past her hips. She had yet to think of something to fashion out of it, so she let it grow. Might come in handy later on.

The trenches around the fortress crept closer with every step. Five clenched her jaw at the mounds of upturned earth drying against the sun's bright rays. The Central region was the most open ground. Compared to the Northern quadrant where Section H's headquarters stood, no trees surrounded the fortress within a kilometer radius. The first line of tall vegetation was somewhere near the borders. No wonder the other sections picked their front lawn as a space for combat. Fighting was easier when there weren't branches in the way.

Her thumb played with the hilt of a dagger tucked into her belt. The sweatpants offered little to no room for style, but she could manage. She could make clothes for herself, but what for? She had plenty of those jacket-trousers combo, and the boots were comfortable to run in and kick with. With her foot arch, they were a treasure.

She strained her ears, listening for the smallest sound to betray her primal fears. Maybe someone trailed her from where she departed. Perhaps the heavens watched over her with invisible eyes. Or maybe that was just Seven forgetting to switch his ability off again.

The thought of her comrade sent a dull twang in her gut. Before the Game took the turn that it did, she was ready to celebrate with the rest of Section M. Their victory under Thirteen's guidance was well-deserved, and despite all odds, they made it. Then, the truth came crashing in. Someone did watch them from somewhere, and they concluded it was time for a second Game. The voice still haunted Five's dreams some nights. Whenever she woke up, she was reminded that she was stuck in this place, and the only way out was to murder her friends.

A frown turned up at the healthy rays of sunlight beating down on her. It was a stark contrast to how the sky looked when she talked with Thirteen right after he killed Karrel. He stared at the pink and orange clouds with almost a child-like wonder and softness. For a second, Five forgot the boy had killed two people, point-blank, without batting an eye. She forgot how he had risked their lives time and again, going on with nothing but faith in their abilities and his beloved calculations, whatever that meant.

Five couldn't hold it against him, though. Even through his peculiar and otherwise questionable methods, he did what he promised he would. Section M had the largest number of people who survived, and now, it was a problem. Not only did Five have more people to beat, she had people who would go after her the moment they heard the voice's announcement. With no way of knowing where the rest of Section M went, she could only rely on her senses. On her instincts.

And instincts told her to visit the fortress today. While they listened to that voice tearing across the entire city, she happened to have a glimpse of Thirteen's expression. It wasn't of confusion or surprise. Rather, it was of deep contemplation, as if he already knew something about it. His shock, visible through the slight parting of his lips and his eyebrows creasing, was more towards the direction of the Game and not what the voice was and why it existed.

Somehow, he knew the Game was being monitored, and he knew it for a long time. Which brought to life another important question Five had been too afraid to ask since she saw Thirteen for what he was. What else had he found in that dingy room of his, and how much—how deep—did he get? And somewhere in the back of her head, she dared ask the only question that should matter—was there another way out of this place, one that didn't involve hurting more people?

She trudged across the open Central region for that sole purpose. If anyone attacked her here, she'd have enough techniques against any abilities who remained to at least reach a stalemate. She could buy herself enough time to talk and convince them of joining her in her side quest. Should they still want to end her, she had more than one way of eliminating them. Sure, with Eight, it'd be harder to get close, but if she could get the others to go with her...

The world whirled when she shook her head. Her hair slapped against the sides of her head, which she then tucked behind her ears. She liked it when they were shaved close to her scalp. Planning for an alliance with the others shouldn't take over the goal at hand. How could she convince them if she had nothing to show for it? Thirteen might have left something on the screens, the bureau, and the pockets of space around the building. The fortress was a huge building after all. It had plenty of secrets, and with Thirteen around, there was bound to be more.

Like the secret sewer passageway she unearthed upon Seven's prodding. The boy was oddly sweating when he informed Five about it weeks ago. Apparently, Thirteen never sealed the arched tunnels where they found the spies. He had been using it to get under everyone's noses, including Section M, to pursue his personal goals. When she asked even how many times Thirteen used it, the boy shrugged.

"No idea," he said. "But when I caught him using it, he disappeared and came back late into the night, long after the counter."

Wherever he went, Five shouldn't care about it. He had his plans, she had hers. But come on. This was Thirteen. Even whispered in hushed conversations, nobody in Section M could deny Thirteen was some kind of genius who never got the credit for it. He acted and thought as if everyone were in the same brain waves as him, resulting in him getting frustrated and withdrawn and everyone else thinking he was an arrogant asshole who liked to flaunt his ass around. Through their brief time together, she observed he strayed from attention as best as he could, and not only did he follow through with his promises and ideals, he tried to stick to them no matter what.

Five wasn't going to hold his austere demeanor or his scathing sentiments against him. That was just who Thirteen was, even though not everyone would understand or would be able to accept it.

Hence her trip towards the nearest hatch hidden under a clump of displaced bushes which have dried long ago. She fished a driver from her belt—a remnant of the tool-crafting days from the first Game—and took out the screws. One by one. When the last of them popped free, she slid the metal hatch aside and slipped through the human-sized hole on the ground.

Her feet dangled straight into open air, the sounds of water dripping and rushing getting louder. The hollow corridors of the sewers helped. With a grunt, she shimmied down the hole and hung on one hand as she surveyed the height of the fall. A ladder rested a few meters away, no doubt for Thirteen to use whenever he got out and went back in. It certainly made it harder for someone invading from the outside.

Clenching her jaw, her fingers slipped past the hatch's edge. The earth's pull wrapped around her ankles, sending her downward. For a moment, she was weightless. She leaned forward, aiming for the flat expanse of the sewer's musky floor. Her shoulder twisted, and her knees bent. She sped to the ground, her feet propped to take her fall. Then, she sighed and released whatever tension was in her muscles. She swung her arms a little, changing her axis. Her thighs hit the ground, and she tucked herself into a roll, slowing her down.

That was clean.

She staggered up, massaging the sore spot in her thigh. It'd bruise, but it'd heal. A bone fracture was harder to lug around, especially in her present climate. Still, she was inside, and from here, she knew the way in. At least, that was what she told herself.

After getting lost a couple of times, she found the corridor where Thirteen shot the spies. The splashes of red against the algae-infested stone walls were enough proof. Water from interconnected pipes dripped from loose gaskets and weathered polymer, forming murky puddles on the floor. Dust littered the ceiling, the air, and even the water rushing past her in the opposite direction.

Every brush of her footsteps echoed in the darkness. She reached out and felt the walls. Only the shafts of sunlight streaming through the hatches scattered aboveground saved her from falling over the chance gaps between walkways as the canals branched off to other places. Soon, the only set of stone stairs leading to the fortress' interior popped into view. When she pushed the emergency door inside, the familiar smell of disinfectant and bath soap assaulted her nose. Even days of no maintenance, the scent still lingered in the air, carrying the traces of who once breathed and lived in these halls.

Heart heavy with unbridled nostalgia, Five shut the door behind her and continued to where she was supposed to be. Thirteen's command center. She didn't dare stop by the great hall. Too many memories lingered inside, and more than half of the people they started with couldn't see it the second time. With her teeth grinding against each other, she chose the path which would take her directly into the command center.

The laminated plastic door swung open, the hinges screaming against the forceful motion. Lifeless screens and the obvious absence of Thirteen greeted her as she sauntered in. Dust hung in a hazy veil, poking her sinus and eyes. A cough itched at the base of her throat, and she waved her hands in front of her face to ward it off.

She beelined to the screens, pushing Thirteen's abandoned office chair away. As she had seen him do a hundred times, she tapped the longest key on the board with raised tiles. Contrary to what she was used to, none of the screens lit up. Were they turned off? Her teeth dug on her lips. She had to start it up. But...how?

She rounded the bureau and came across the mess of wires and metal prods Thirteen had bugged her to make. God, that seemed so long ago. When she didn't find any clue, she went back to the front and rummaged around the bureau's drawers.

The first three drawers betrayed nothing, as if Thirteen foresaw her coming and kept all of his secrets from falling into what he deemed as the wrong hands. Something clattered in the lowest drawer when she pulled it out. One of her knives glinted against the faint light from the door. She picked it up and slotted it into her belt. Maybe it'd be useful later. Or maybe she could get Thirteen to explain why the sharp edge was littered with flecks of dried blood. What was that about?

Not one drawer contained any secret on how to navigate the screens or even get them to light up. Perhaps, the symbols on the board could provide a clue. Five squinted at them. Apart from the squiggles she recognized as the basic alphabet, she spotted a circle from the upper left row. Something that looked like a bulb but upside down. A fountain? A halo?

Halo. Light. Of course.

She jammed her finger into the button. Electronic whirring chugged from the screens' guts. Excitement gurgled in her gut as she watched one screen light up, one after another. When all the screens finished blinking to life, she braced the bureau's rim with her palms. Okay, now what? She had never watched Thirteen work with it for longer than a minute. Did he run his fingers across the screens to navigate?

How could she find all the files Thirteen hid?

She tested her theory on the lowest screen in the middle. With Thirteen's height and affinity to stay in one place for long periods of time, he wouldn't pick something the farthest from him to work in. She wheeled the chair back to its place and sat on it. Eye-level with her was her chosen screen. Perfect. Thirteen had been in a stance similar to this whenever she entered.

Then, she laid her fingers over the alphabet board. She pressed a key, something that looked like an F for files. A square field popped up in the middle of the screen. So, that would bring up the files? Wasn't that too convenient? She reached out and swiped her finger across the glass surface. The entire window shifted. Whoa. An interface that could be touched? Cool. How come Thirteen hid this from them? They could have had hours of fun with this.

She snooped around, clicking things with a single tap of her fingers, watching with awe at how more square fields popped up with each one. Then, she noticed how most of them brought nothing. Not a line of code or a string of data, no matter how gibberish. It was empty, as if it was scrubbed clean from the inside. As if it had never been in use all along. But she swore with her life Thirteen tinkered with this far too much for it to be this bare.

Did he...did he wipe this somehow? With what?

Oh. The portable screen. With Thirteen's knowledge and skills, he could totally hack into the network he developed himself and erase everything in it, bringing it back to the way it was. How foolish was she? Thirteen was the stingiest soul she had ever met when it came to information. He would be careful enough to not leave any trace. This was just one of his methods.

She aimed to turn the screens off again when her fingers clicked the one next to it. The symbol was three words spelling esc. What did that mean? The screens answered for her, when they flashed red, followed by a loud alarm like the counter's blare. On the screen, the words System Breach Confirmed blinked over and over.

Then, a timer replaced the stark warning. It started with twenty seconds. Nineteen. Eighteen. Seventeen.

Sixteen.

Five wasted no time. She turned and ran. This time, it was truly for her life. She barely shut the door behind her when a loud explosion blossomed from the command center. Then, fire, smoke, and dust rushed past the white plastic, plunging her world into a shower of sparks and raucous sirens.