Was my decision right?
I kept asking myself this question again and again, whatever happens, now I have to explain it to her properly.
Those soldiers were taking me away, the sound of their heavy boots echoing on the concrete floors, creating a mechanical rhythm that matched the thumping of my heart.
Maybe to the doctor. But they didn't send Shira to the doctor — meaning all the luxury she once had was now gone.
Just by losing one match, her entire status had changed. They didn't even put bandages on her, just sent her to the room like that, with bleeding wounds.
In this place, there was no place for humanity. Only numbers, statistics, and entertainment value.
I was walking between the two soldiers, heading toward the doctor.
Their presence was forming a suffocating bubble around me. I tried to ask them something, but they stayed silent, said nothing. Their faces were expressionless, like they were machines, empty of emotions.
As I was passing by the doctor's room, my eyes fell on a room with a large warning sign on its gate.
"AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY - EXTREME HAZARD"
Something felt strange. A weird humming sound was coming from that room, like electrical current. And that smell — metallic, burnt, mixed with something organic that made me feel nauseous. I didn't go too close, but I felt like something very bad was happening in there. Maybe experiments. Or… I didn't want to think about it.
The Room
I was finally going toward my room, but with every step, an uneasy feeling kept growing in my heart. The corridors had dim lighting, shadows making weird shapes on the walls.
Shira could attack me anytime, so I had to walk carefully. Although the chances were almost impossible — they must have chained her tightly.
But I couldn't underestimate Shira. She was unpredictable, dangerous.
The two soldiers left me outside the room.
Just as I was about to open the gate, the situation matched exactly what I had thought.
Click.
As soon as I opened the gate, in the blink of an eye, she placed a knife against my throat. Her movement was fluid, practiced.
Although I had already thought something like this could happen and I was prepared, her speed was way too high — she moved so fast that I couldn't even react properly.
Breaking chains without any proper tool or weapon… where did she learn all this?
She spoke, "W–who… who are you? And what do you want… say it, just say it, or I—"
Her voice was breaking, it felt like she hadn't spoken much in a long time, or hadn't had a long conversation. The cold metal of the knife pressed against my skin, drawing a thin line. One wrong move and she would cut my jugular vein.
I was a little shocked, then took a deep breath and said, trying to keep my voice steady,
"Listen to me. I don't want to do anything bad to you. This is my plan, that's why I got you shifted here, to this private room."
But my words sounded hollow. Who would believe me? In this hell, no one trusted anyone.
Shira pressed the knife harder against my throat, pushing a little deeper. I could feel my skin about to break.
Her eyes had both anger and fear, but there was more fear. She was reacting like a cornered animal.
"How do I believe you?" she spoke again in anger, but there was desperation in her voice too. And this time her voice didn't break — it seemed like she had thought carefully before speaking.
Shira spoke again, "You tried to kill me in the arena, then brought me here. What guarantee do I have that you won't torture me?" Her voice broke again mid-sentence.
The only sound in the room was our heavy breathing.
Looking at Shira, it seemed she couldn't even stand for much longer, but she also didn't want to kill me — which meant she truly wanted to know the truth from me.
Controlling my emotions, I told her the truth, "If we work together, we can get out of this hell. And destroy this system. If I wanted to harm you, why would I bring you here to this private room?
I knew you could kill me here anytime, just like right now. I don't want to be your enemy."
But even as I said those words, I wasn't sure if I believed them myself. Trust was a luxury we couldn't afford here.
I began telling her the story of the pain in my life, hoping to find some connection, some humanity left in both of us.
"I lost my Elena, the one I loved so much. She died because of me. I should have saved her earlier. I couldn't protect her." Memories flooded back — her face, her last smile, that moment when I couldn't save her.
"I also have a sister, whose whereabouts I still don't know. What must she be doing now? These people destroyed my whole village, killed everyone. And left me here in this hell to die."
Shira's grip on the knife loosened a little, but she was still alert.
I looked into her eyes and said, "I know you've also lost a lot. There's pain in your eyes, I can see it. That emptiness, that hollow look — I recognize it because I see the same thing in the mirror every day."
For a moment, something shifted in her eyes. Recognition maybe. Or just exhaustion.
I couldn't even imagine she would believe me. But she often did things completely different from what I expected.
Slowly, she removed the knife from my neck, but kept it in a ready position, prepared to strike again.
Was this the same Shira who had killed so many men? Who had tried to kill me twice? In that moment, she looked like a broken girl, trying to survive in a world that had shown her no mercy.
She stepped back but still kept the knife in her hand, in a defensive position. Her movements were careful, calculated. Even in this moment of apparent truce, she was ready for betrayal.
She went and sat near the wall, holding her head in both hands. It seemed like she was far too exhausted from all this. Just looking at her, I could tell she was extremely tired.
"I don't trust you much," she said in a faint voice, like speaking after many days, her words rusty from disuse. "Still, you don't seem like a bad person." Saying this, she collapsed.
Her voice had both exhaustion and pain. She stammered a little while talking, like someone who had been silent for a very long time and was now slowly speaking again. Her voice cracked occasionally, betraying the vulnerability she tried to hide.
I picked her up and laid her on the bed. When I checked her pulse, I found she was perfectly fine — just extremely tired from the battle, which is why she had fallen asleep.
She had fully trusted me. I would never break that trust.
The room fell into silence, heavy and oppressive. Outside, I could hear the distant sounds of the facility — machinery humming, footsteps echoing, occasionally a scream that would cut through the night air and then disappear. This place never slept, never rested. It consumed people, chewed them up, and spat them out as entertainment.
In that moment, I understood how difficult this situation was for both of us. We were both prisoners here, both damaged, both trying to survive in our own ways. But once we fought together, maybe we could turn this darkness into light.
Or maybe we would both die trying.
At least we wouldn't die alone.
I slept near the door that night; it was cold there, but I was used to it by now.
In the morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, I saw Shira in front of me with a strange expression on her face — and a knife in her hand?…
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