**Volume 2: Upper World**

  **Chapter 59: Eight Minutes**

  January 3rd, 4:18 p.m. – Central Arena (Post-Match Break)

  The dome lights dimmed for the cleanup — a short, mechanical hush falling over the stands. Eight minutes. That’s all they got between matches. Eight minutes to mop blood, drag bodies, reset the stone, and pretend the last person who died wasn’t someone’s friend.

  Hiro walked out of Arena 5 alone.

  Her gun-sword hung heavy at her hip, still glowing faint green from the last heal she’d forced on herself. Her jacket was torn open at the front — Rita’s final fire bomb had burned through fabric and skin, leaving angry red patches across her chest and arms. She didn’t cry. Didn’t scream. Just walked slow — boots dragging — until she reached the low wall separating the pit from the stands. She sat. Legs dangling. Hands in her lap. Staring at the stone like it might give her Rita back.

  Sky saw her from the tunnel mouth.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  He jogged over — white shoes quiet on the stone — reached her side, and offered his hand without a word.

  Hiro looked up — eyes red, cheeks streaked — and took it.

  He helped her up — gentle — arm around her shoulders like she might fall if he let go. They walked back to the dorm tunnel together — her head leaning on his shoulder, his steps matching hers so she didn’t have to hurry.

  The hallway was empty — everyone else still in the stands or waiting for their own turn. Sky pushed their dorm door open. Inside: quiet. Frosty was sitting on the edge of her bunk, re-wrapping the bandage on her side. Max leaned against the wall, shadows curled tight around his ankles like they were scared too. Cam sat on the floor, wolves napping in smoky wisps. Mira’s crows perched on the back of the couch. Aoi in the corner — knees hugged. Kira by the window — katana resting against her shoulder.

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  They all looked up when Sky and Hiro walked in.

  No one spoke.

  Just quiet nods.

  Hiro sat on the nearest bunk — slow — gun-sword clattering beside her. Sky sat next to her — close enough their shoulders touched.

  The screen on the wall flickered — Josh’s voice cutting through the silence.

  “Eight-minute break ends in three minutes. Next matches begin at 4:30 sharp.”

  Max pushed off the wall.

  “Looked at the order again. Cam vs me is still up. Hiro vs Rita already done. Ray vs Jay. Jessica vs Jamie. Jacob vs Jackson. Then you vs Josh. Then Mara vs Jane at the end.”

  Cam didn’t look up.

  Sky stared at the floor.

  Mara walked in then — Reaper slung across his back, Mist Sword sheathed, coat torn but body whole. Void eye glowed steady. He didn’t say anything at first. Just sat next to Sky on the bunk — close — wings tucked tight against his back.

  Sky glanced at them.

  “Where’d you get those?”

  Mara flexed one wing once — black feathers catching the light.

  “Three minutes ago. While everyone was fighting and crying… I snuck out. Found a random guy named Tray — some rogue scavenger with rift scraps. He had spare wings from a dead devil. Gave me pizza too. Then Troy — 15, mixed, 6'1" — joined us. Kid’s quiet. But he knows things.”

  Sky nodded slow.

  Mara looked at Troy — the new kid standing by the door, hood up, hands in pockets.

  Troy stepped forward — voice low.

  “After the match with you and Jane… they’re gonna blow this place up.”

  The room froze.

  Sky’s head snapped up.

  “What?”

  Troy pulled out his phone — screen cracked, but still working. He tapped once — video started.

  Grainy footage — two officials in black uniforms talking in a side corridor. One held a small device — blinking red. The other spoke low.

  “When Mara vs Jane ends… detonate. Clean sweep. No survivors. No loose ends.”

  Troy ended the video quick.

  Sky stared at the blank screen.

  “They probably won’t kill everyone,” he said — voice flat. “They’ll be in here too, right?”

  Cam looked at him — eyes hard.

  “They probably don’t care. They want us dead. Think about it — it’s only been a few months. Now all of a sudden we’re this close to killing them in tournaments. They’re scared.”

  Sky remembered Het’s body — sliced in half, blood spraying in that perfect arc. Remembered Abel exploding into 500 chunks. Remembered Frosty bleeding out in the snow after confessing. His hands clenched — knuckles white.

  He didn’t say anything at first.

  Just looked down.

  Then — quiet — “You’re right, Cam.”

  He turned to Mara.

  “You’ll win for us, right? Kill Jane?”

  Mara looked at him — void eye glowing steady — but his jaw tightened. He held tears back — barely.

  “Yeah, buddy. For you… I will.”

  He looked down — wiped his eyes quick with his sleeve — then looked up again.

  “We’ll be fine, guys.”

  The room stayed quiet.

  The intercom crackled.

  “Five minutes until first match resumes. Ram vs Jones already complete. Next: Jessica vs Jamie.”

  Sky stood.

  Looked at the group — his eight — and the new faces.

  “We survive tomorrow,” he said. “Then we end this.”

  No one answered.

  They just nodded.

  And waited.

  The chapter ended.

  To be continued…