The arena was paradise twisted. Towering forests, crystal lakes, abandoned cities choked by vines. Each section meticulously designed to be both beautiful and deadly.

  Luca’s drop zone was an alpine biome—crisp air, tall pines, and a strange silence. He landed upright, knees bent, already calculating.

  Each sector housed five players. His companions in Sector D were diverse and dangerous: Sofia Romano, the Roman fencer with a blade like a viper’s tongue; Min-Jae, a South Korean coder with neural implants; Thiago, a Brazilian MMA fighter; and Nandi, a South African sniper with a steely eye.

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  Introductions were quick. Everyone smiled. No one meant it.

  By dusk, they had a fire going and shared rations. Luca spun stories about tending grapes in the war-torn hills. Nandi asked if he could kill. Luca smiled and said, “Only when I must.”

  He made friends with Thiago over jokes and shared food. He complimented Min-Jae’s logic. He let Sofia stew, pretending not to notice her gaze dissecting him.

  “Strength in numbers,” he suggested. “We form a team. First week only.”

  Nods. Murmurs. Agreement.

  That night, as they slept in shifts, Luca crept silently to the edge of the forest. He carved two notches into a tree.

  Two would die before dawn.