Kitsune's breaths came in sharp gasps, the acrid smell of smoke stinging his nostrils as he navigated the tunnel. The distant rumbles of Chavo's explosions had become a terrifyingly constant companion. His heart hammered against his ribs, each beat a reminder that time was running out.
"Mika!" Kitsune's voice pierced through the chaos, his figure emerging from the haze like a ghostly apparition. "Left detour—trap ahead!"
Reacting on instinct, Mika veered right, a blast roaring behind her with such ferocity it seemed to shake the very foundation of the prison.
Mika stumbled, the heat searing the back of her neck, and whirled around. Five guards stood at the junction, a bittersweet smile gracing their lips as they held a detonator.
"Go!" Kitsune said as he set Ikenie rolling into the five guards with a kick. "Make it count!"
"What—" Ikenie died as the walls shuddered, debris raining down around them.
"I'll come back," he mouthed, and then the world erupted in flames.
Mika lurched forward, propelled by an unseen force. Ikenie's silhouette was etched into her memory, a final image before the corridor collapsed.
"Ikenie!" Her scream echoed, raw and hoarse, a futile cry swallowed by the inferno.
"Keep moving!" Kitsune's voice snapped her out of her shock. They were outside the tunnel and were now in the prison yard; the night air felt cold and sharp.
"How could you?" Mika rounded on Kitsune, her fists clenched. "How could you do that? He didn't deserve—"
"Deserve?" Kitsune's eyes were ice. "This isn't about what we deserve. It's about survival."
"Survival?" Mika's voice cracked, anger and grief battling within her. "He saved us, Ikenie! And all you can say is—"
"Enough!" Kitsune cut him off, his gaze unwavering. "Comradery won't keep you alive. Remember this is our last life in the game."
Mika's shoulders slumped, the weight of loss anchoring him to the spot. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "And what's the cost? Our life?"
"Our life in the game is a luxury," Kitsune stated flatly, turning away. "One we can't afford right now."
"Afford..." Mika's thoughts spiraled, the word echoing hollowly.
"Remember Ikenie's sacrifice," Kitsune said without looking back. "Don't let it be in vain."
Sacrifice. The term felt alien, a concept belonging to stories of heroism and valor, not to their grim reality.
"Vain," Mika whispered, the word a venomous promise. "It won't be in vain."
The rubble shifted beneath Kitsune's feet as he faced Ikenie, the ruinous aftermath of their escape attempt surrounding them. The air was thick with dust and the sharp tang of explosives, mingling with the digital illusion of smoke.
"Talk to me, Kitsune," Mika demanded, her voice hoarse from the acrid air. "Why did you do it? Why Ikenie?"
Kitsune's lips twisted into a smirk that didn't reach his cold eyes. "You're still clinging to that camaraderie farce? It was never about us, Mika. It was about the game, escaping."
Mika's mind reeled, trying to piece together the fragments of betrayal. He had thought they were allies, bound by a common goal, but she'd been nothing more than a pawn in Kitsune's calculated game. "Allies... You said we needed teamwork."
"Needed, past tense," Kitsune corrected smoothly, the words slicing through the chaos like a well-honed blade. "You served your purpose, and now you're just another obstacle."
"Obstacle?" Mika spat the word out, venomous. Her fists curled at her sides, nails digging into his palms. The revelation sent a jolt of white-hot anger coursing through her. Ikenie hadn't been an ally to Kitsune; he'd been expendable.
"Exactly. And like any good strategist, I remove obstacles." Kitsune's expression was impassive, his posture relaxed even amidst the destruction.
"Remove..." Mika echoed, a bitter taste in her mouth. For a moment, she saw a flicker of something in Kitsune's eyes—a predatory stare that made her blood run cold.
"Goodbye, Mika." Kitsune lunged forward, his foot connecting with Mika's chest in a powerful kick that sent her stumbling backward.
Mika's arms flailed for balance, but it was futile. She crashed into the jagged remnants of the prison wall, the impact sending shards of stone flying. Pain exploded across her back, and she struggled to catch his breath, her vision blurring.
"Remember this lesson," Kitsune called out, his voice fading as he retreated. "Trust is a weakness."
Gritting his teeth, Mika pushed against the crumbling masonry, but another explosion rocked the foundation. The structure groaned, and with a deafening roar, the ceiling began to cave in. Desperation rose within her as she realized his predicament—trapped, with death barreling down upon her.
"Trust…" Mika coughed, the dust clogging her throat. There had to be a way out, a final card to play. But the darkness was creeping in, the weight of the collapsing prison threatening to crush her.
"Is this how it ends?" she wondered grimly, the notion laced with defiance.