As the last rays of twilight faded into the white fog, night fell. The darkness that came along enshrouded the land like an air-tight jar. All the competitions had ended, and the athletic facilities were disappearing one after another. Pillars were retracting back into the ground, and running tracks were fading away.
After all the athletic facilities had returned to the ground, there were only the lifeless bodies of those who had fallen in the game left scattered haphazardly about the land. The wind blew, carrying the sand and covering the corpses, which made it even harder to distinguish the bodies from the ground in the dark. However, one could still vaguely see the bodies slowly melting into the air until nothing remained.
All the survivors had returned to the resting zone. The Olympics once again became a barren land. The wind was blowing over the boundless plain, sounding distant and lonely.
