The room was alive with tension, the energy palpable. The walls were covered in colorful cloud wallpaper, the kind that might have been cheerful in a different context. The vibrant swirls of pink, blue, and orange clashed against the grim expressions of the players as they shuffled nervously, trying to decipher their surroundings.

The air was punctuated by the surreal contrast of playful, upbeat music streaming from the speakers, a twisted accompaniment to the anxiety that hung heavy in the room.

Y/n stood close to In-ho, her eyes scanning the space with an unrelenting focus. Behind them, Gi-hun and Jung-bae exchanged uncertain glances, while Dan-ho lingered just a step behind, his body tense with the readiness of someone prepared for anything.

Jung-bae's quiet mumbling of "Triangle" betrayed his nervous attempt to cling to some sense of familiarity, even as the unfamiliar setup gnawed at everyone's resolve.

Y/n's gaze dropped to the floor, where two large circles with five lanes each had been painted in vibrant hues. Her sharp mind clicked into gear as she assessed the possibilities.

This doesn't look like Dalgona, she thought, noting the absence of shapes and needles on the walls. It's something else. Something new. Her detective instincts kicked in, piecing together the design and layout. Two circles. Five lanes each. A team game... An idea began to form—a six-legged race?

"Attention, please. The second game will begin momentarily. Please follow the instructions from our staff. Let me repeat..."

The announcement cut through the low murmurs and restless shuffling.

Players looked around cautiously, their faces a mix of confusion and suspicion. The lighthearted tune playing in the background only added to the surreal unease of the moment.

Jung-bae broke the silence, muttering again, "Triangle..." His words hung in the air as though trying to summon some semblance of logic.

"Is Dalgona a team game?" Dae-ho asked, his brow furrowed.

"Aren't we playing the Dalgona game?" Player 100 demanded, turning on Gi-hun with accusing eyes.

"No, it doesn't look like it," Gi-hun replied, his voice hesitant.

"What's the game, then?" someone else interjected, their tone edging toward frustration.

"I'm... I'm not sure," Gi-hun admitted, his shoulders slumping.

"What? You said you'd done this before!" Player 100 snapped, his voice rising with every word. "That triangle was the easiest. Was that all bullshit?"

"I'm sorry," Gi-hun mumbled, his voice barely audible under the rising tide of accusations.

"Sorry won't cut it!" Player 100 barked. "You talked like you knew everything. All these people believed your bullshit. What are you going to do? Will you take responsibility?"

"That's enough," In-ho said sharply, stepping forward to place himself between Gi-hun and the disgruntled player. His commanding presence silenced the room for a brief moment.

"Please divide into teams now."

The tension in the room broke into scattered conversations, the players moving to form groups.

"Yeah, just drop it," one player muttered to Player 100.

"Don't waste your time talking to this nutjob."

"Jesus. Come on, let's form a team first."

"Previous winner? Damn lunatic!"

"Dalgona? Triangle? Screw you."

"How about teaming up with me?" another player called out to the crowd, their voice laced with desperation.

"What's going on?" Dae-ho asked, his voice laced with unease.

"It's not the Dalgona game?" Jung-bae repeated, his confusion mirroring everyone else's.

"No, I don't think so," Gi-hun admitted, glancing at Y/n, whose mind was still working through the puzzle. Her eyes darted between the floor, the walls, and the other players as she processed every detail.

"What do we do then?" Jung-bae asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Let's go," In-ho said decisively, squaring his shoulders.

"Go where?" Y/n asked, her sharp tone pulling everyone's focus.

"We've already got a good team of five," In-ho replied, gesturing to their group.

"It's a children's game, right? We used to play games all the time," Jung-bae added, trying to inject some optimism.

"That's right, sirs and ma'am, I'll join you," Dae-ho said eagerly, a grin breaking through his tension. "I feel like I can do anything with you."

"That's the Marine spirit," Jung-bae said with a laugh, clapping him on the back. "It'd be embarrassing for brave Marines to be carving Dalgona anyway. If we're playing a game, it should be worth risking our lives for. Like Buck Buck or the Squid Game, right?"

"Yes! I will certainly risk my life to win, sir," Dae-ho said, his voice filled with fervor. "Yes, sir! Victory at all costs!"

The group exchanged glances, a mix of resolve and uncertainty settling over them. Y/n's eyes lingered on the circles painted on the floor, her thoughts racing as she tried to stay one step ahead.

__________

Player 333 followed closely behind Junhee, his steps quickening as she tried to ignore him.

"Junhee," he called out, his voice almost desperate. "Let's team up."

"No," she shot back without hesitation, not even glancing over her shoulder.

"You have to join a team."

Junhee turned to glare at Player 333. "Not with you."

He stepped closer, his tone shifting to one of frustration. "Stop trying to act tough. Do you think anyone would want a pregnant girl?"

Her eyes narrowed, her voice sharp as glass. "Mind your own business. I can take care of myself."

Player 333's expression softened, his voice pleading now. "I'm sorry I didn't call you. But I had a tough time too. You know all those people were out to kill me."

Junhee laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "You completely ignored me for six months. I thought you were dead."

He sighed, his face etched with guilt. "All right, I'm sorry. Now, let's team up," he said, his tone earnest. "You can't have the baby unless you make it out of here alive."

Her jaw clenched as her eyes bore into his. "I don't trust you," she said coldly, her words final. "You're dead to me."

Meanwhile, across the room, Thanos approached a relatively pretty girl with short hair and piercings, his swagger unmistakable.

"Señorita, excuse me?" he said, his voice smooth yet theatrical. "Let's play the game together."

The girl, Player 380, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well, why should I?" she retorted, her tone dripping with skepticism.

Namgyu leaned in from behind, whispering with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Don't you know who he is? He's Thanos, the rapper."

Thanos smirked, spreading his arms grandly. "I, Thanos the great, will protect you."

Player 380 tilted her head, her lips curling into a smirk of her own. "Right, Thanos. So, have you got all the Infinity Stones?" she quipped, her sarcasm cutting through the air.

Thanos declared, "Of course! I'm going to destroy anyone who gets in my way! Just stick with me, and you'll be safe. Okay?"

But Player 380 shrugged nonchalantly, bursting his bubble. "But I already asked someone to join me."

Thanos' face faltered for a moment before he recovered, his curiosity piqued. "No problem. Who is it?"

With a smug smile, Player 380 stepped aside, revealing the short and unimposing Min-su standing behind her.

Namgyu sighed audibly. "Oh, come on..."

"What's your name?" Thanos asked, clearly trying to regain some composure.

"It's Min-su," the shorter man replied curtly.

Namgyu groaned, muttering under his breath. "He looks like a freaking dork."

Thanos, undeterred, extended a hand toward Min-su with exaggerated friendliness. "What's up? Nice to meet you, my brother. Welcome to the Thanos world."

Min-su looked at Thanos' outstretched hand, his expression unreadable. Player 380 stifled a laugh, her eyes darting between them as Namgyu groaned in exasperation.

_______

Junhee approached Gi-hun's group, her steps hesitant but her voice steady.

"Excuse me," she said softly. "Can I join you?"

Before Gi-hun could respond, Jung-bae shook his head apologetically. "Sorry, we've already got five people."

Junhee's face faltered, but she pressed on, her voice growing more desperate. "Please help me. I'm pregnant."

Her words made Dae-ho blink in surprise as his gaze dropped to her midsection. "Oh... your belly..." he muttered, as though seeing it for the first time.

Y/n, standing slightly apart from the group, took in the scene with narrowed eyes, her mind racing. She felt the tension in Junhee's voice, the fear behind her words, and the way the clock ticking down seemed to compress the room into an unbearable pressure cooker.

Her gaze flicked between Junhee, clutching onto what little hope she had, and Player 380, who still looked like she needed one more teammate.

"Team selection will end momentarily," the announcement blared, jolting everyone into action.

Y/n's expression shifted, her brows furrowing with determination.

Stepping forward, she gave Junhee a reassuring smile. "Yes, you can join these guys," she said kindly, her voice firm.

Gi-hun turned around in shock. "Y/n—what are you doing?" he asked, his tone a mix of confusion and alarm.

Before anyone could stop her, Y/n's voice rang out loud and clear.

"Player 380! I'll join you guys!" she called, waving to the other group.

Player 380 spun around, her piercing glinting under the fluorescent lights as she grinned. Even Thanos broke into a small, cocky smile, though Namgyu groaned and frowned in annoyance.

In-ho's hand shot out, grabbing Y/n's upper arm in a protective grip.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he snapped, his voice sharp, almost panicked. "You're not going with them!"

Gi-hun's voice joined his. "Y/n, stop! Stay with us—it's safer here!" he urged, his eyes wide as he reached toward her.

Y/n twisted out of In-ho's grasp, her eyes blazing with determination.

"I'll be fine," she said fiercely, her voice steady despite their protests.

In-ho's grip tightened for a moment, but she slipped free, leaving him standing there, tense and conflicted. Gi-hun's hand hovered in the air, his face clouded with worry as Y/n jogged over to the other group.

Namgyu looked her up and down with a scoff. "Two girls and a midget?" he sneered, clearly unimpressed.

"Shut up," Player 380 shot back, narrowing her eyes. The timer beeped sharply, cutting off any further complaints.

"Time for team selection is up," the announcement declared.

As the groups solidified, Gi-hun's team—now made up of In-ho, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, and Junhee—watched Y/n from across the room. Their concern was palpable, their eyes following her every move.

"She's too stubborn for her own good," In-ho muttered, his voice tinged with frustration.

"She doesn't understand how dangerous this could be," Gi-hun added, his tone heavy.

The two men exchanged a look, but there was nothing they could do now.

Y/n stood with her new group, her shoulders squared and her chin held high, ready to face whatever came next.

The mechanical voice blared across the room, explaining the twisted rules of the Six-Legged Pentathlon.

Y/n's breath hitched as her eyes scanned the list of childhood games turned cruel challenges. She could practically feel the timer looming over them like a sword waiting to fall.

"You guys pick. What are you good at?" Thanos said casually, glancing around at the group, his confidence as steady as ever. His voice carried an authority that no one dared challenge.

Se-mi stepped forward first, her expression quiet but resolute.

"I'll take Gonggi," she said softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper, but it carried enough weight to make the others glance her way. She rolled her shoulders back, determination flickering in her gaze. "I used to play it all the time in school. Trust me—I know how to handle it."

Namgyu smirked, the sneer on his lips curling like a cat toying with its prey.

"Spinning top's mine," he declared, cracking his knuckles. "My little brother could never beat me at it, not even once. This one's a joke."

Min-su, the wiry, quiet one of the group, hesitated before raising his hand.

"Flying Stone," he murmured, his voice faltering slightly. "I used to practice skipping stones at the river near my house... I think I can manage."

Y/n listened as the others picked their games, her mind racing as the word Ddakji loomed like a shadow in her thoughts. Her lips parted, but she hesitated, the memories flooding her mind unbidden.

Her father's sharp laugh as the folded papers smacked against each other, the sound of one tile flipping over with a satisfying thwack.

"You've got to aim for the edge, Y/n," he'd said, guiding her tiny hands over and over until she could win against even the sharpest opponents in her neighborhood. And then...

She swallowed hard, her hands curling into fists at her sides. And then the truth. The man who was really her father was the same man who had orchestrated this nightmare. The same man who'd lured desperate people here, promising salvation only to crush them with his cruel games.

For a moment, her breath hitched. Her knees threatened to buckle as guilt threatened to drown her. She knew this wasn't the time to falter, but the weight of that realization clawed at her chest.

She closed her eyes, forcing the image of her father—the mastermind—out of her mind. Instead, she focused on a different memory, one that warmed her heart even now.

Chan-yeol.

His wide smile as he crouched across from her on the playground, his hands folding a square of paper with nimble fingers. "You can beat anyone, Y/n," he'd said with a wink, tossing his tile onto hers with perfect precision, flipping it effortlessly. "Just stay calm, focus on the edges, and trust yourself."

Her eyes fluttered open, the warmth of that memory pushing back the cold truth of her father.

"I'll take Ddakji," she said finally, her voice steady despite the tight knot in her chest. Her chin lifted, and for the first time since the game had been announced, she felt a flicker of confidence. "I know how to win."

Thanos turned to her, his gaze narrowing slightly as though gauging her resolve.

He gave a short nod before shrugging. "Guess that leaves me with Jegi," he said, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "Don't screw this up, people."

With their roles decided, the group fell silent, each of them contemplating the weight of their choices.

Y/n glanced at the stack of folded tiles near the starting line, the memories of her father and Chan-yeol battling for dominance in her mind.

She inhaled deeply, gripping the fabric of her shirt for a moment before letting go. This isn't about him, she told herself firmly. This is about survival. And I won't lose.

_________

Gi-hun, In-ho, Junhee, Jung-bae, and Dae-ho huddled together, their faces etched with exhaustion and tension. The air was thick with unspoken fears as the clock ticked closer to the start of the game.

In-ho leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, his sharp gaze resting on Gi-hun. "I'll play whatever you pick for me, Gi-hun," he said, his voice calm but measured.

Gi-hun's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone cautious. "You... know my name?"

A faint smirk tugged at In-ho's lips. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, your friend was calling you by your name earlier, so I thought I'd try it. Does it bother you?"

Gi-hun paused, his eyes scanning In-ho's face as if searching for a motive. After a moment, he replied, "...No, it's fine."

"So, Gi-hun," In-ho continued, tilting his head slightly, his tone smooth and disarming, "which one are you good at?"

Gi-hun scratched the back of his neck, his brow furrowed in thought. "I guess I'm better at Jegi. I played it a lot as a kid."

"Hmm... Then I'll do Spinning Top," In-ho said, nodding as if filing the information away. "I've got a decent sense of balance."

"All right," Gi-hun replied, meeting his gaze briefly before nodding.

Gi-hun looked around at the group, his voice firm yet laced with urgency. "Okay, that's settled. Now, let's focus. We need to work as a team if we want to make it through this."

In-ho extended a hand toward the center of the group, his expression unreadable but his tone steady. "Guys, bring your hands together."

Junhee hesitated, then placed her hand over In-ho's.

"Right... all together now," she murmured.

Gi-hun sighed but followed suit, his hand joining the pile. "Okay. Let's do this."

Dae-ho stepped in next, his expression softening slightly. "We're in this together."

Jung-bae smiled faintly, his voice carrying a flicker of hope. "Yeah... let's win."

In-ho glanced around the circle, his tone decisive as he spoke. "On three, we go, 'Victory at all costs.'"

Gi-hun nodded, his voice quiet but determined. "Victory at all costs..."

"One, two, three," In-ho said.

Their voices rose in unison, cutting through the tension like a spark in the dark.

"Victory at all costs!"

They broke the circle, their expressions hardening as the weight of the moment settled back in. Overhead, the mechanical announcement buzzed, signaling the start of the game.

Without another word, the group moved to their places, their resolve unshaken.

As the game loomed ahead, the air grew colder, but their determination burned brighter.

_____________

The arena pulsed with an electric energy that seemed to press down on every spectator, suffocating and thrilling them in equal measure. Suspenseful music reverberated through the vast venue, mingling with the sharp cries of the fallen, their voices swallowed by the low mechanical hum of forklifts clearing debris.

The air was heavy, thick with tension and the metallic tang of sweat and blood, as Y/n's team stood frozen at the edge of the game area, their eyes darting between the ticking clock and the remaining players wrestling with the unforgiving challenge of Flying Stone.

Thanos stood beside her, his usual air of indestructibility fraying at the edges. His lips moved in a near-silent mutter, his golden gauntlet clenched tighter than usual.

"They're dropping like flies," he said, his voice unusually low, carrying a grim note of acknowledgment.

His gaze flickered to the scoreboard, where the numbers shifted like the grim reaper's tally. "These games aren't about skill anymore. They're about how much nerve you've got left when it's all on the line."

Y/n swallowed hard, her hands instinctively gripping the hem of her jacket. The oppressive tension pricked her skin, coiling like a snake ready to strike. She had always known the stakes were high, but watching the players crumble under the pressure—watching their humanity slip away—drove the reality home with ruthless clarity.

Her focus shifted as the old woman's team entered the arena. Among them, one figure immediately stood out: player 120. She moved with a fluid, almost feline grace, her dark hair swept tightly back, revealing sharp, piercing eyes that seemed to cut through the chaos around her. There was an undeniable composure to her, a quiet confidence that radiated from her every movement. It wasn't just about skill—it was about control.

"She's got guts," Y/n murmured, watching player 120 as she took her place.

Thanos scoffed, his arms crossed over his chest, but his gaze lingered on player 120. "Let's see how far guts will get her."

As the game began, player120's presence commanded attention. She moved with the precision of a seasoned strategist, her hands deftly tossing the stones into the air, each motion deliberate and smooth. Her team rallied behind her, their voices rising in a synchronized rhythm. Y/n found herself watching with rapt attention.

"Who is she?" Y/n asked, her voice tinged with curiosity, though she knew she was part of the same team.

"Does it matter?" Thanos replied gruffly, though there was a flicker of intrigue in his eyes.

player 120's calm composure didn't waver, even as the game pressed forward with intensity. Her movements were hypnotic, each action purposeful, like a conductor leading an orchestra. Y/n couldn't help but admire how she seemed to command not only the game, but the very air around her. She even slapped her teammate at one point and Y/n couldn't help but grin.

As their team pushed forward, Y/n noticed a shift in herself. The anxiety that had gnawed at her before seemed to dissipate.

When the round ended and their team emerged victorious, player 120's unflappable confidence remained.

After the final team emerged victorious, the sounds of the arena began to fade into the background as Y/n turned to her teammates, her thoughts racing. She had watched the team's celebration, but a quiet weight lingered in the air. Her gaze drifted to Se-mi, who stood a little to the side, her expression unreadable but her posture still composed.

Despite the chaos around them, Se-mi appeared almost unaffected, as though she had mastered the art of detachment in such a volatile environment.

Y/n's eyes softened as she observed her, noticing the way Se-mi's focus never wavered, as if she were silently processing the outcome of the game.

Without thinking too much about it, Y/n took a step toward her. The noise of the crowd and the tension in the air seemed to blur as she approached, her heart beating in a steady rhythm. She wasn't sure why, but she felt compelled to reach out.

"Hey," Y/n said, her voice carrying a gentle but determined tone.

Se-mi glanced over, her eyes meeting Y/n's with that same calm focus. There was a pause, almost imperceptible, before she acknowledged her, the corner of her lips lifting into a slight, knowing smile.

"Hey," Se-mi responded, her voice low and steady, like the calm before a storm.

Y/n took another step closer, her nerves settling slightly in the presence of Se-mi's unwavering composure.

They stood there for a beat, the noise of the arena swirling around them, but in that brief moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of them.

Y/n extended a hand, her smile genuine. "I'm Y/n."

Se-mi hesitated only for a split second before shaking her hand firmly. "Se-mi."

Both of them smiled slightly, an unspoken understanding passing between them in that shared quiet. It wasn't the kind of bond that needed words—just a simple acknowledgment of strength, resilience, and the strange camaraderie that formed in the midst of chaos.

As Y/n pulled her hand back, her smile lingered. "You're pretty tough, Se-mi. I think we're going to get along just fine."

Se-mi's gaze softened for a brief moment, a quiet connection that felt almost like a promise.

"We'll see," she said, her voice carrying a slight tease. But in her eyes, there was something more—a flicker of recognition, as though she, too, saw something in Y/n that made her feel just a little less alone in this storm of a game. 

"Guess we're next"

As the next teams readied themselves, Y/n and Se-mi found themselves talking more than expected. Their quiet laughs over the absurdity of their situation filled the small pauses between the rounds.

Y/n found comfort in Se-mi's wit and calm demeanor, something grounding amidst the chaos that surrounded them. Se-mi's presence was like an anchor, steadying her in ways that no one else could.

"Why are you here?" Y/n asked, her voice soft, barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Se-mi hesitated for a moment, her gaze slipping away briefly. Then she met Y/n's eyes again, her expression a little softer than before. "Same reason as everyone else," she said, her voice lowering slightly. "Trying to survive."

Y/n nodded in understanding, recognizing the weight of those words. Survival in this arena was more than just making it out alive—it was about holding on to what made you who you were, even when the games threatened to take it away.

The PA system blared, signaling Y/n's team's turn. Se-mi placed a steady hand on Y/n's shoulder, her eyes serious as she turned toward her.

"Stay calm," Se-mi said firmly, her voice a reassuring force. "Trust your instincts. You've got this."

Y/n felt the weight of her words settle over her—not as pressure, but as a spark of courage. As she stepped into the arena, Se-mi's voice echoed in her mind, a steady presence against the rising tide of nerves.

Meanwhile, on Gi-hun's team, In-ho watched Y/n from the sidelines, his heart in his throat. He noticed the subtle change in her posture, the way she carried herself now. For the first time, her fear seemed to have faded, replaced by something stronger. And that terrified him more than anything.