STAB FORWARDS NOW, CONTINUE RUNNING FORWARDS.

Alan charged forwards with all his might, with the speed and last ditch effort of a runner at the finish line, thrusting the knife forwards into thin air. To his disbelief, he watched in slow motion as the hound leapt sideways onto his knife as it tried to avoid one of Kitana’s swings, cutting its own throat on the edge of Alan's knife. The hound opened its eyes in alarm and pain as Kitana used the distraction to finish it off, decapitating it with one smooth, golden tinged slash.

Alan collapsed, and knew no more.

***

Kitana gazed down at Alan, wondering if she should let him die. It might turn out for the best. She dismissed the thought as the battle high slowly wore off, leaving behind the dull grey world she knew too well.

Kitana bent down, examining Alan's wounds, locating his first aid kit and using the inside materials to patch him up as best she could. It was surprising how quickly Alan adapted, how quickly he had learned to fight. And worrying.

But no, she would wait. The full consequences of actions had always evaded her. Walking over to the corpse of the hound Kitana absentmindedly swept her gaze over its entrails, clinically examining for any weak points she should note and send on. Nothing was pixelated.

It had been a good fight, a worthy opponent, everything she had hoped to find in the Game. It was only tainted by the end... no, not tainted, but different. She would have to learn to start acting with a team. Kitana passed the item the creature had dropped, the loot as Alan had called it, on to him, a demonstration of her acknowledgement. Unlike most of the others she had never had any underlings before, but that didn't mean she couldn't start.

Kitana bent down, lifting Alan up and throwing him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She began walking back to the bunker. The life in her eyes slowly dimmed as the world seemed to revert to its natural state. Colorless.

Chapter 5

Alan woke up, then almost immediately turned over and went back to sleep as he always did. Except, this wasn’t his bed, it was some sort of military cot. He recalled the Game, and everything else that happened, but still briefly considered going back to sleep.

No.

Alan forced himself awake, to sit up, to look about him. He was no longer the Alan that would sleep in at every chance he got, content with living a normal life, getting a normal job. He needed to start pushing himself, to try harder than he’d ever tried before. He was a Gamer now.

Alan looked around, and saw that he was back in the underground bunker, though most of the lights were off. The motionless forms of the others surrounded him. It was around 5 a.m. in the morning, explaining why everyone else was asleep. The countdown for the first round had been replaced with a new one, which displayed 12:32:17. It didn’t say who their enemies would be.