8:35 am, Bottom Floor of The North Wing.

Lilith didn't know how much longer she could keep doing this.

The hours bled into each other, each of them as meaningless as the last. Lilith herself felt sluggish as well, each passing moment dragging her spirits down even more. Back when their alliance was whole, Lilith felt as if time was going too quickly; it didn't slow down for anything. Her happiness truly was fleeting, and now it was gone entirely.

If Merix was here… well, if Merix was here, they'd have purpose again. Before he died, Lilith would've said that Nash was the glue of their alliance. Now, she was sure that was never the case at all.

It was almost funny how much she learned in retrospect. In the moments where Merix would go quiet and retreat into himself, Lilith had just assumed that he was tired of them or becoming overwhelmed. But really, he was often studying his older allies, which perplexed Lilith, as she never considered herself a good role model. She wasn't always good at understanding people, but for Merix she made sure to try. Even if she was wrong, he managed to be touched by even the simplest actions. That had made Lilith feel good. She'd forgotten what having a friend was like.

Though Lilith tried hard to push Merix out of her mind, he was never gone for long. He was like Annie in that way - no matter how much Lilith wanted to be able to move on, she could never forget him. But she couldn't forget Annie either.

And that's what made everything so hard. Lilith had always prided herself on the way she never left a mission unfinished, but now… Nash had interfered, had taken her moment away from her. If she closed her eyes, she could hear Annie and Merix in her head, each telling her to do conflicting things.

What would Annie want? What she always wanted - whatever was best for Lilith. But she believed that Lilith should do whatever was hard, because there would undoubtedly be something better on the other side. And though she didn't quite know how, Lilith would just have to find a way to get there.

What would Merix want? What he always wanted - whatever was best for Lilith. But he believed that Lilith should find something that would make her happy. It could be so easy to find happiness as long as Lilith knew where to look for it.

Lilith wasn't sure she knew where to look anymore. There was certainly no happiness to be found here.

If there was one good thing that came out of the past day, it was that Nash was in somewhat higher spirits. Granted, that was an extremely low bar considering his attitude ever since Merix passed, but Lilith was still trying to think optimistically.

It wasn't working very well for her.

Though Nash was feeling better, his newfound silence was beginning to grate on Lilith. She'd gotten used to a relatively constant chatter of voices around her, but now she was stuck with nothing but her own thoughts. Before, when she was in Nine, that was just the way she liked it. But now…

God, everything was so different.

The more she thought about it, the more Lilith was sure that she couldn't keep moping around with Nash, never getting anything done. That wasn't fighting. That wasn't living. It was barely even surviving. And though Lilith had always been particularly good at just surviving, Merix had shown her that there was more to life. If only he was here to help her now.

Lilith glanced behind her. Her bag had been mostly packed since last night, just waiting for her to make her move. Lilith kept postponing her departure, waiting to see if anything would change, but it was too late for that now. She had to move on.

As far as she knew, Nash was fully unaware of her ongoing crisis. If she went quietly, she could avoid any kind of confrontation. Maybe that was a coward's move, but Lilith didn't have anything to say to him at the moment. What could she say? She was never particularly good at saying goodbye. But, she realized, he barely managed to be engaged enough to do more than sleep and occasionally eat, so Lilith felt sure that she could escape unnoticed. Maybe, if things went well, she could even come back. He'd never have to know.

But even if Nash didn't know, Merix would. Would he be disappointed? He'd looked so terrified when Lilith had killed the tribute that had almost taken him out in the bloodbath. But wasn't it a good cause then too? It wasn't as if Lilith had attacked the Seven boy indiscriminately. She had a good reason for it - she was protecting her ally, her friend.

Lilith sighed quietly. She had to stop thinking about him. Last time grief clouded her judgment, she'd wound up in a far worse place than before. There had to be a way to get herself back on track.

She fiddled with her crossbow in her lap, counting out the bolts she had left. Lilith prided herself on having good aim, so in theory she only needed one to make the shot, but it couldn't hurt to have a few extras in case she wound up in a tight spot. There were still around eight left, but it was unlikely she'd get more, so she had to make them count.

Lilith stole a glance at Nash, then looked away just as quickly. If she was back in Nine, someone would've encouraged her to take him out as well. It would be a mercy, or so they'd claim, but Lilith didn't believe that anymore. She still held onto the bit of hope that Nash would be able to find himself again, even though it was seeming less likely with every day that passed.

It was time for Lilith to stop waiting around. If she didn't leave now, she didn't know if she'd ever be able to.

Lilith shoved her bolts into her backpack and stood up, trying to move as quietly as she could. She glanced around the area, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything, and let out a silent sigh.

This was it.

She remembered which direction Thay had gone in, so she already had a good idea of where to look. He probably preferred lurking in the hallways, as he'd never been fond of open spaces. Lilith had spent enough time studying his movements to know that, when he was by himself, he could more than easily slip through the cracks. Unfortunately for him, Lilith was determined to hunt him down.

"Are you leaving?"

Lilith froze. Maybe he'd been more aware than she thought.

"I have to," she muttered, shifting her weight between her feet. "It's top eight, Nash. We can't just-"

"If you leave, there's not a we anymore."

She tried not to flinch. Lilith had known something like that had to be coming. Nash practically begged her not to kill Thay yesterday; of course he'd resent her wanting to get back into the Games, to fight and kill once more. They both had blood on their hands, but they each had a different story behind it.

Not so different, really. Both kills were for Merix, after all.

"So, what? If I leave, you don't want me to come back?" Lilith challenged.

She heard rustling, as if Nash was getting up. "You're the one that said this is top eight. Not much room for alliances anymore. We were always stronger together, but if you want that to change… I'm not following you for a petty revenge mission."

"It's not petty," she spat, finally turning around. "At least it means I haven't given up like you have."

Nash blinked up at her before setting his jaw and looking away. "I haven't given up," he muttered. "It's just…"

He trailed off, as if unable to finish his sentence. Once upon a time, Lilith may have been able to fill in the blanks. Now she didn't think she'd be able to. They'd both changed, and that's why Lilith feared there was no going back.

"Fine," she bit out. "Then I guess this is it."

There was a long pause. Lilith found herself hurt by Nash's silence all over again. She didn't want this to be the end, not really, but leaving was the only thing she could think of. Lilith Beherit was not made for giving up.

(Was she giving up on Nash? Lilith didn't think so. He'd given up on himself long before she made the decision to leave. Sometimes, she'd learned long ago, you had to put yourself first.)

"It was nice being your friend," Nash said softly, and Lilith wanted to block his words out. "Merix-"

"Don't try to use him against me. That's not fair."

Nash paused again before muttering, "Just go, Lilith. You've already made your decision. There's no use trying to argue."

Lilith wanted to be frustrated with him for giving up so easily, but she knew it was coming. Maybe she'd left a little more loudly than she'd intended, a little slower, just to see if he'd decide to fight for once.

The old Nash would fight, Lilith thought bitterly. This isn't what Merix would want either.

Maybe there really was nothing left to say. They were at an impasse, each wanting different things from each other, but neither willing to give up their own ideals. Lilith had to move on and put it all behind her.

"Goodbye then, Nash," Lilith said, looking away so she didn't have to see his face. "I hope you figure yourself out."

"Bye, Lilith. I hope you get exactly what you're looking for."

And though her chest ached and Lilith wished that she could turn back around and that everything could be the same again, she knew her hopes were nothing but a foolish dream. She had to move on, unless she wanted to get stuck in the past like Nash.

"Sorry, Merix," she whispered to herself as she left. "We couldn't be strong without you."

Time Unknown, The Basement.

Every inch of Phaedra's body ached.

After her fight, she'd fortunately managed to get the arrow out of her arm without any further casualties. After making it farther down the hall, she'd stumbled across a package tucked neatly behind a rock. There wasn't a note of any kind, but when she opened it, there were plenty of medical supplies to treat her injuries. It even contained a paste that numbed the skin of her shoulder as she got the arrow out.

She took it as a sign that she was supposed to rest, and that's exactly what Phaedra did. First aid had never been her forte, but she remembered enough of the basics. At least there had been extra gauze for her to bite down on to muffle her screams as she cleaned her wound.

The numbness had begun to wear off as she stitched up her shoulder, but Phaedra forged on without stopping. The sooner she was able to start the healing process, the sooner she'd be able to fight again. After all, she figured that's what all of this was for. A good fight.

But as she woke up the morning after her fight, Phaedra realized she must have been wrong about something. There was something more to this part of the Arena, something she hadn't noticed before.

Phaedra was wet.

As she blearily looked around, Phaedra realized that there was water all around her. It was about ankle deep when she stood up, but she couldn't determine the source. Farther up the hallway the ground was still dry, so Phaedra took this as a sign that she was supposed to keep going. There would be no rest for her.

When she stopped for the night, Phaedra chose to rest in an alcove like the one Rhoda had been perched in. There had been no sign of water in any direction, but she wasn't sure of how fast the water was rising, so it was best to play it safe.

That turned out to be a good thing. The next morning, when Phaedra got herself down from where she'd been sleeping, she landed in knee-deep water.

The water taunted her, telling her to move faster. Phaedra didn't know how to tell it that she didn't know what she was moving towards. Her destiny? Justus? She had no control over her situation, so what did she know?

Her body was heavy as she walked, weighed down by the water. If she wasn't so weary from the days before, something like this wouldn't have fazed her a bit. Unfortunately, she was far more exhausted than she'd like to be. Sleep was hard to come by without news of Justus.

At least there hadn't been any cannons so far today. Yesterday's cannons had been stressful enough; she'd stayed up late in her alcove watching for the faces to flash across the wall, hoping that Justus wasn't one of them. She couldn't say she was entirely surprised to see Makani's face appear, but Phaedra felt sorry nonetheless. She never knew the girl's story, but some people just weren't built for the Games. All she could do was hope that it was quick.

Still, that at most left her with two former allies among the top eight: Justus and Alila. Admittedly, she didn't figure that Alila fully counted given how the bloodbath went down, but if she was still on Justus's side, then Phaedra would make her peace with it. Either way, she'd come to the - probably too hopeful - conclusion that both of them were still alive. Phaedra had a hard time believing that Merix and his alliance outlasted both of them, so she was trying to look on the bright side of things. She felt more capable of continuing on if she had hope that Justus was on the other side.

Still, it was lonely in these halls. Phaedra got the sense that she was wandering the perimeter of the Arena, slowly working her way towards a larger goal. Her only companions were the sound of water and her own thoughts.

It reminded Phaedra of when she was a child, always alone, always forced to be more than she ever wanted to be. And it turned out that no matter where she went, her familiar gilded cage would return.

There was no Justus to save her, not this time. And god, how she missed him.

He'd always been there for her when it counted. He was there when she didn't have a date for the dance and every time she needed a sparring partner and when she just needed someone to be there for her. Justus could fill any role she needed him to without her even needing to ask.

Even after the Fortuna Equestris… Phaedra squeezed her eyes shut, still able to hear the thuds. She hated thinking back on it, but he'd tried to help her back then too. If only she'd accepted immediately.

Her fight against Petra was the hardest thing she'd ever done. Phaedra had been in many fights before, and certainly some close ones, but never one where she had to take a life. She believed that everyone had a destiny of some kind, and she'd ripped Petra's away from her. Maybe Petra was supposed to be the chosen volunteer. Maybe Petra was supposed to go on to live a fulfilling life, one full of light and love. Maybe Petra was supposed to live, and Phaedra had ruined that for her.

If that was Phaedra's destiny, maybe she didn't want it.

The very act of killing had felt so wrong to her, and imagining it happen twenty-three more agonizing times had sent Phaedra into a downward spiral. Even if the blood wasn't directly on her hands, the eventual Victor would be standing atop a pile of bodies to receive their crown. Was that supposed to be Phaedra? Was that the so-called destiny she'd worked her entire life to achieve?

Leaving the Fortuna Equestris arena was a blur. Phaedra couldn't recount most of what happened or who congratulated her or how she'd gotten up into the stands. She was supposed to wait and see who would join her for the Crowning later in the evening, but Phaedra couldn't register anything at all.

All she could think about was her destiny and how she had to be truly cursed if this was the life intended for her.

Something tried to grab her, and in her panic, she'd lashed out and shoved them away as hard as she could. In the instant between when her body moved and her mind caught up to her, she realized it was Justus trying to comfort her again. But it was too late. She caught him off guard, and before she knew it, he was tumbling over the edge, unprepared for her attack.

She was sorry before she pushed him, sorry before he fell. Phaedra winced at every thud she heard as he tumbled halfway down the bleachers.

The "I'm sorry" that escaped her was the smallest one of her life, but Phaedra had never meant the words more. She suddenly felt hyper-aware of an entire stadium full of eyes on her, watching as the prophesied child of gold lost control of herself.

She turned on her heel and ran.

Phaedra was good at running. She thought that sometimes, if she ran fast enough, she'd be able to outpace her own destiny. As long as it never caught up, she'd never have to worry about it.

She didn't see Justus again until the Crowning. The makeup they'd put on him to hide the bruises didn't help her immense guilt, nor did it help her nerves. Her hands were trembling, but Phaedra had to stay strong as she was presented to the entire District asDistrict Two's designated volunteer. She tried desperately to avoid looking in Justus's direction, ashamed of what she'd done. But when his steady hand brushed against her shaking one and she latched on like it was a lifeline.

In a way, he was her lifeline. No destiny would be able to override the simple fact that Justus was the one that kept her going.

Though Phaedra couldn't remember the party they'd both been subjected to after the Crowning, she clearly remembered her conversation with Justus afterwards. They'd danced around each other for most of the party, entertaining friends and strangers alike, offering quiet smiles meant only for each other. It was dark when they were able to meet up again, Phaedra spewing tearful apologies like she never had before.

But Justus had merely smiled and brushed the tears off her face. "I've already forgiven you."

"When?"

"Before I even fell."

That day had been full of emotions, but Phaedra was glad that she got to end it with him. They made a lot of promises that night, but Phaedra had made a quiet one to just herself. She swore that she'd never hurt Justus, not again. Wherever he was, wherever they were, they would always be together.

Phaedra looked down at the ring on her finger. Infinite in life and unbound by death. Even if that was the only promise they ever got to make to each other, Phaedra would never regret the time they had together.

No. That couldn't be the end. She'd continue on, continue her search for Justus. No matter where she ended up, she'd find him waiting for her, and that's all she needed.

3:58 pm, Second Floor of The North Wing.

No matter how hard Alila tried to convince herself it was all a dream, she couldn't seem to wake up.

She wasn't much for dreaming in the first place. Alila found that reality was often kinder than fantasy, as you could be sure that its coldness was a constant. There was no worrying about getting her hopes up and she'd never have to worry about everything being taken from her as soon as she awakened.

Even a nightmare would be kinder than this.

Justus had been tiptoeing around her ever since the faces flashed across the wall the night before. Alila herself had felt as if she'd been hit, her emotions manifesting in a stinging pain where Kano had hit her nose a week ago. God, had it really been that long?

She felt aimless, without purpose. Every day these Games managed to throw something new at her, and she didn't know how to respond anymore, or even what to do. None of her training had prepared her for this. There were only eight of them left, but Alila wasn't sure how she was supposed to push herself onwards.

What kind of victory would this be, anyway? For any of them? Surely whoever left this Arena alive would do so with a profound emptiness - or maybe Alila was just projecting.

Blinking back tears, Alila turned the shell over in her hand. She wondered if she'd ever get to know what happened to Makani. Surely she could've prevented it if she was there.

God, why hadn't she been there?

Well, Alila knew why. She hadn't been allowed to leave the damn Cornucopia. If she had, then she could've gone after Makani faster, or she could've helped more during patrolling and avoided the early fracture, or- or-

It was all so frustrating. Alila could pinpoint the exact moment her entire Games had fallen apart, and yet in every way she tried to fix them in her mind, she could never bring herself to make a different choice. How could she? If she had stood to the side and let Thay be killed, she'd never be able to bring herself to go home to Thee at all. How would she be able to look him in the eye and say she could've chosen to save his brother but didn't?

(Because no matter how much Alila told herself she loved the Games, her one chance at greatness and victory, more than anything, she loved her brother more.)

Alila's grip on the shell tightened, and for a moment she almost felt as if she was holding Makani's hand again. They were dancing, and if she listened closely, she could recall the tune that Makani hummed. She tried to recreate it, but she couldn't get past the first few notes without feeling choked up, so she let Makani's voice in her memory continue her song. Alila had never heard it before, and she wondered if she'd ever hear it again.

In time, perhaps even the memory of their song would fade. Alila wished she could hold onto it just a little longer.

"C'mon," Justus said softly, nudging her shoe like he'd been trying to get her attention for a few minutes now. "We need to keep moving."

Bitterly, Alila swallowed down her retort. What was the point if Makani wasn't here anymore? But she'd offered to help Justus find Phaedra, and Alila wasn't ready to give up just yet, so she quietly shuffled to her feet. She felt a strange sense of duty about the matter, which felt odd considering she'd been, at best, reluctantly allied with Justus. At the very least, this was better than sitting around all day groveling in her own self pity.

"Where to?" Alila muttered, shoving things in her backpack haphazardly.

"Downstairs?" Justus offered, trying to keep any possible conversation brief.

She offered a nod at that, trailing a few steps behind him as he began heading down the hall towards the nearest staircase. Perhaps they'd been looking in all the wrong places for Makani anyway. Alila wondered if they stood a chance at finding her at all.

Was she scared? Did it hurt? Was it all over quickly? Alila wanted to know more than anything, and yet a part of her preferred to stay in the dark. She felt strangely indecisive, but she supposed that's what happened when she let her emotions take over for too long. Alila hadn't planned on making any friends in the Games, instead hoping to stay on her own within the pack, but that had gone out the window as soon as they all started pairing up during training. Alila had rather enjoyed herself, and it was almost like having another sister.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Justus's voice pierced through her thoughts, and Alila flinched at the intrusion. She instantly felt the need to defend herself somehow - she didn't want- no, didn't need his pity.

"No," she snapped, far more sharply than necessary. "Not with you."

His shoulders hunched slightly, but he gave her a nod. "Just an offer. I know that-"

"You don't know anything," she said, cutting him off. "Phaedra is still fine, so worry about her instead."

His mouth twisted into a frown, his brows furrowing. "I was just trying to help."

"You could've helped days ago - this all could've been avoided if you hadn't grounded me like I'm some fucking child!" Alila said, her voice slowly raising.

"Would you rather we have killed you?" Justus asked, his frustration growing to match hers.

"Obviously fucking not, but you could've trusted that I had a good reason for it!"

"You wanted us to trust you after you let our biggest outer District competitor just run away? You're lucky that getting stuck by the Cornucopia for a few days was all that happened!"

"And look where that got us," Alila hissed, advancing towards him. "All of our other allies are dead before top eight except for Phaedra, and you don't even know where the hell she is. Did you ever consider that maybe I could've actually helped? Or that maybe, just maybe, if I was allowed to leave the Cornucopia, we wouldn't have sustained all those losses?"

"It's still only a possibility," Justus argued back, frowning down at her. "Even if you'd helped in the early days, there's no telling what could've changed and what could've stayed the same. It's all theoretical. I know you're upset about Makani, but-"

"Don't say her name," Alila cried, voice cracking. "If you had just-"

"You can't keep dwelling on what ifs," Justus said, voice softening. "It won't change anything."

"But I should've been there! I could've done something, I just…"

Alila trailed off, angrily swiping at her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively and to the side. She just… what? Even she didn't know. Part of her hated to admit that Justus was right, that things could've stayed largely the same even if the early days had played out differently. She figured Shai and Kano were too entwined to ever go down another path, and maybe the rest of them would've found a way to get separated anyway. Perhaps that whole destiny nonsense was onto something.

"Trust has to be earned," Justus said lightly. "Maybe things would've been different if we understood why."

Alila shifted uncomfortably. "It's… not important."

"It was important enough for you to throw yourself headfirst into danger."

"It's more complicated than that."

"Complicated how? The way the rest of us saw it: you saved one of our biggest threats and then refused to explain yourself. Actually, you still refuse to share why you did it."

"Because I can't let Thay die!"

Justus watched her for a long moment, raising an eyebrow at her outburst. "Why not?" he asked curiously.

Alila fidgeted, trying to figure out what to share. She hadn't even managed to tell Makani the whole truth. And while she still didn't trust Justus, not really, she felt compelled to share anyway.

She sank down to the floor, leaning back against the wall with a sigh. Justus blinked down at her expectantly before sitting a couple feet away from her. He shifted almost nervously, fiddling with the ring on his finger.

Alila brought Makani's shell out of her pocket again, turning it over in her hands as she spoke. "It's my brother, Thee. Most of my siblings are adopted, but some of them are from other Districts. Two, Eight, Six, Twelve, and… and Nine. That's where Thee's from."

Justus seemed to connect the dots on his own. His eyes widened in understanding, though he didn't comment just yet. Alila quietly continued on.

"His full name is Timothee. He's never talked about his past much, but it wasn't hard to figure a few things out when the volunteer from Nine looked exactly like him." She let out a bitter laugh. "Figures I'd go into the Arena with the identical twin of my brother. I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't thinking back in the bloodbath. I talked to him - to Thay - before the Games and we agreed to stay out of each other's way, but when I saw Kano going after him, I just… my body moved faster than my mind. It happened before I even knew what I was doing, and then…" She gestured vaguely, rubbing her thumb over the shell. "It was all over."

"You're lucky Phaedra wasn't in the mood for fighting after the bloodbath," Justus said slowly, nodding to himself. "She understood that sentiment more than you know."

Alila only vaguely remembered the bloodbath outside of her own disastrous actions, so she just nodded along. "Sorry for yelling at you even though I was the one that fucked up."

"It's been a stressful day," he said softly. "But now everything makes more sense."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'd do the same for any of my sisters."

"I'm not sure I could've gone home knowing that I could've stopped his death," Alila whispered. "I don't think Thee would've forgiven me."

"You should give him more credit," Justus said, giving her a hint of a smile. "After all, he loves you too, doesn't he?"

"I'm not sure it would be the same if I let his brother die."

"Familial love is unconditional, isn't it? Besides, I don't think anyone can truly fault you for what happens in the Games."

"That feels too easy."

"Maybe you're making it too hard."

Alila almost laughed at that, finally cracking a smile. "Maybe I am. This whole Hunger Games thing doesn't seem to be as simple as training made it seem."

Justus seemed to frown at that comment, glancing down at his hands. "Fair point. Everything seems so different now."

"Nine days," Alila whispered. "I wonder how many are left."

"Depends on how much the gamemakers want to distract us," Justus muttered, almost to himself.

"Distract?"

"Like with the tracker jacker noises," he said by way of explanation. "And the mirrors."

"Can I ask what you saw in the mirror?"

Justus looked up again, staring aimlessly at the blank wall across from them. "An old rival of sorts at Mirador. Made my life a living hell for some time."

"No wonder you broke it. How's your hand doing?"

He glanced down at it, moving it carefully to prevent any tears. "Better. Thanks for your help, by the way."

"Thee gets those sometimes. The panic attacks, I mean. It was… almost familiar, I guess. Your rival must've been really fucked up to elicit that kind of response."

Justus sighed softly. "Rival is probably too kind of a word. He enjoyed tormenting me more than anything else. Figured out something I didn't want shared and blackmailed me into doing his dirty work for him until I got tired of it and fought back."

"Where is he now?"

Another shrug. "No idea. Somewhere far away."

"It's almost like this Arena is built to make sure we never forget anything," Alila muttered quietly. "Ghosts of the past and all that."

"I wish some of them could stay buried."

"Me too."

"I'm sorry about Makani," he offered gently.

"I wonder if I'll ever get to know what happened to her."

He shrugged. "Is that something you want to know?"

"I think I want closure," she explained, holding up the shell for him to see. "I want to know if there's anything I could've done."

"Knowing might make it worse."

"That's fine. At least I'll have answers."

The two of them faded into silence, the most content Alila had been in days. She didn't know how she and Justus had managed to become almost friendly with each other, but she didn't mind this turn of events either. Part of her was scared for what it could mean in the future, as the number of tributes would only dwindle from here. But for now she was at ease.

The shell in her hands watched her, a cruel taunt reminding her of what she'd lost and what she still stood to lose. Alila just clutched it tighter. She'd find out the truth, no matter what.

"I can help you find Thay," Justus offered. "If that's what you want."

"Huh?" She looked up at him, surprised that he would offer such a thing. "But what about-"

"We can see who we find first," Justus explained, "and then we can part ways."

"Oh," she said softly. She'd nearly forgotten that at some point they'd have to split up. It wasn't like they could be allies forever. "So you'll help me find him?"

"As long as you try to help me find Phaedra."

A hint of a smile lifted the edges of her lips as she quoted, "An Arculeo never goes back on his word."

"And I trust you won't either."

He extended a hand, and she shook it without hesitation. "We'll find them," she promised.

"I hope you're right."

6:27 pm, Bottom Floor of The North Wing.

Thay was being followed.

This was not the first time in the Games that he felt like someone was watching him, but it did feel different from the day he'd run across "Thee". Back then, he was being observed, but now he was being downright stalked. Every now and then, the back of his neck tingled for just a moment, yet every time he whirled around, Thay saw nothing but an empty hallway behind him. Whoever was following him was clearly quiet enough that he couldn't pinpoint their location.

Thay was getting frustrated. He had gone into the Arena to try and avoid this sensation, but it was back in full force. If anything, it felt strangely similar to the one he'd felt back in Nine, but that didn't make any sense.

Or did it?

He didn't let himself linger on that thought, not now. Any predictions could be put off until he came up with some kind of plan. If his slowly forming hunch was correct, then he needed to get out of any open areas.

He'd been taking careful inventory of his surroundings for a while now. If whoever was following him was also observant, they'd know that he'd been circling around the same area for most of the day. Thay didn't have any kind of base he was operating out of, so he was used to being on the move anyway. Most of the rooms on this floor were bigger and grander, and he was certain that some had multiple doors leading into the same area. Thay hadn't bothered to explore any of the rooms on this floor yet, but he was starting to worry that he'd be forced to. Whatever lay beyond the doors was certainly a trap of some kind, and Thay didn't want to get caught up in the middle of it.

Still, if his stalker was who he thought it was… Thay wasn't sure why Lilith was only now trying to make her move.

Thay had loosely kept tabs on most of the tribute during training, and she'd seemed more than content with her own little alliance. Even if one of them was dead, they'd all appeared to be… well, they appeared to be friends. He didn't understand why she'd just abandon her remaining ally. If she was going to attack him, why not just focus on that?

Granted, he was still completely in the dark on why she was following him - or why she had back in Nine, as long as that assumption was correct too. The more he tried to remember if he recognized her from somewhere, the more frustrated Thay got. There was a single scrap of a memory tickling the edge of his mind, but every time he reached for it, it would disappear again. It felt important somehow, but he figured that could be a later problem.

He crept down the hallway, trying to remain as casual as possible. Thay wasn't sure if his unwelcome visitor knew he was aware of their presence, but he wanted to keep as much of an advantage as he could. If he managed to catch them by surprise, he could make it out of this yet.

But as he turned the corner, Thay noticed something that made his stomach turn.

The sensation was gone.

Thay felt more uncomfortable in its absence, and he glanced around himself. He didn't know where whoever was following him kept going, and it frustrated him more than he wanted to admit. At this point, he wanted to nip this problem in the bud before it escalated.

Frowning at the doors around him, Thay tried to determine which one his stalker could've gone through. He tugged open the first door on his right, recalling that this ornate red doorway had a matching one around the corner. It was the best hunch he had, so Thay walked inside, hoping he wouldn't immediately be met with a bolt to the head. Instead, he ran straight into a thick black fabric, stumbling back into the door and accidentally slamming it shut behind him. Thay instantly tried to yank the door open, but to no avail; it clicked uselessly, taunting him.

"Fuck," Thay whispered.

He took a moment to calm himself and look at his surroundings, though there wasn't much to look at yet. The cramped space he'd found himself in was dark, as if the fabric was obscuring light as well as the door. Upon further inspection, he realized the fabric was split down the middle , so Thay carefully parted it and tried to peek through.

The room in front of him was the largest he'd seen so far, the ceiling stretching high above as if it was part of the second floor as well. The floor was sloped, covered with rows and rows of chairs as far as he could see, separated into sections by aisleways marked with small strips of light. As Thay peeked his head out farther and looked up, he could see that the high ceiling was due to a balcony area above him.

But the main thing that caught his attention was the grand stage set up in front of the whole theatre. It was empty, but the wood panels appeared to be freshly shined as if it was awaiting some kind of show. The curtains were open, but whatever lay backstage was too shrouded in darkness for Thay to determine what was back there.

He tried the door one last time before giving up on being able to return to where he'd come from. Maybe the gamemakers had decided he'd done too much running.

Thay straightened his shoulders and tried to go into the situation with as much dignity as he could. Surely there would be a way he could make it out of this alive.

As he slipped through the fabric, he held a knife in each hand, prepared for anything that could jump out at him. There was the slightest shuffling sound behind the curtain onstage, so Thay figured that's where he was supposed to go. He glanced around him as he edged along the wall, but there was no other sign of life in the grand room.

He couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.

Thay felt infinitely more exposed on the large stage, each footstep echoing loudly through the room. He winced, trying to step toe first to counter the problem, but it was probably too late for that. If he had company in the room, they were more than well aware that he was there.

As he approached the offending curtain, he heard the rustling sound again. Without waiting any longer, Thay slashed his knife through the curtain, the thick fabric resisting the tear of his knife until he hit something and pulled his knife back. The blade was slick with something that looked like blood, but whatever he'd hit hadn't made any kind of noise signaling pain. The knot in his stomach was twisting tighter and tighter, so Thay pulled the curtain out of the way.

Thee blinked up at him, lower lip trembling as he held his chest, blood pouring over his fingers. No, not blood, it couldn't be blood because this wasn't Thee.

Thay shoved one of the knives back into his belt, holding one hand out to Thee as if to demonstrate that he didn't mean any harm. Thee cowered away from his hand, sinking farther back into the darkness of the backstage area. His hand hovered in the space between them, but Thay couldn't bring himself to take it back even though it made no sense for him to keep it outstretched. This was a mutt, of course it wasn't his brother, but Thay didn't know why it was back. Had he been wrong this whole time? Was Thee just trying to get close to him again?

Thee's mouth opened. Thay hoped that he'd get some kind of answer to what was happening, but he soon realized that he'd misjudged the situation entirely.

"Look out."

Spinning on his heel, Thay tried to spot what Thee was now pointing to. But he wasn't able to gain his bearings before something slammed into his shoulder. He felt a sharp, biting pain lance down his arm, and he let out a quiet hiss. Thay's head spun, but he managed to register that there was a bolt sticking out of his left shoulder. He reached one hand up - maybe to yank it out, he wasn't sure - but the shaft was so slick with blood that he couldn't get a good grip on it.

"Lilith," he ground out, glaring at the girl across the stage from him.

Her face was expressionless, her crossbow already loaded with another bolt. Thay knew that he hardly stood a chance of trying to rush her, not when she could shoot him again at any moment, so he decided to hold his ground for a minute.

"For Annie," she intoned by way of explanation.

Thay almost wanted to laugh, but he didn't think it would help his current predicament. For Annie? Had one of those Cardinal bastards finally tracked him down, all the way out here in the Arena?

"I hardly even know who you are."

This time, he cried out from the pain as a second bolt went through his right thigh, sending him to the ground. He blindly threw one of his knives in her direction, hoping that it would hit something, but he faintly heard it clatter to the floor.

"You took everything from me," Lilith hissed bitterly, her voice growing closer. Thay tried to see her through the fog of pain clouding his vision, but he couldn't pinpoint her location. "And now I'm finally going to do the same to you."

There had been a little girl in the Cardinals, one just older than him. She was always one step behind Annie, but Thay had always deliberately tried to avoid Annie so he never particularly noticed the girl. (Really, he'd just hung around with Ymir and tried to avoid garnering much attention at all.) It wasn't until Ymir died - or until Thay thought he did - that he'd managed to cut ties with the Cardinals, starting with Annie. Maybe she'd gotten lost in the tunnels he'd led her down and starved to death, maybe one of the unstable tunnels had collapsed on her - Thay would never know. Whatever the case, she was definitely dead and gone and everyone in the Cardinals knew that only one person could properly navigate the old rebel tunnels...

Death had never been so close, and yet Thay couldn't bring himself to fear it. They'd walked hand in hand for so long that he considered it almost a friend. He just hated that if he died here, he'd never be able to make it back to Thee.

"What are you waiting for?" Thay rasped out as another wave of pain swept over his body. "This won't bring her back, though."

He caught sight of her face again, hovering a few feet from his body. She'd managed to reload again, and this time the crossbow was aimed at his head. Thay couldn't tell if she was angry or confused or relieved or some mix of all three. Each emotion was rippling across her face all at once, as if she couldn't decide how she felt either.

At least it would be quick. Thee wouldn't have to see him die a slow, painful death, and Thay could drift into the darkness like he'd always intended.

"That doesn't matter," Lilith muttered, almost to herself. "I have to."

But before she could take the shot, before Thay could convince his miserable body to move, he heard an ungodly scream ring out in the distance. Thay tried to recall who might possibly sound like that, clear agony tainting their voice, but Lilith answered any questions he might've had.

Without hesitating, she turned on her heel and ran out of the room, any intent of staying immediately forgotten. Thay heard another cry, but he disregarded it as he struggled to get to his feet.

He had to get out of here. He had to make it back to Thee.

But he'd barely gotten up when his leg buckled under him. Thay landed hard on his shoulder. He gritted his teeth, hoping to at least crawl his way into the wings, but his blurring vision wasn't helping matters, and his hands were slick from blood.

Darkness swam in front of Thay, taunting him. He didn't know if accepting its outstretched hand would be a kindness or not. He desperately wanted to run, to escape, but he no longer had the strength.

"Thee," he whispered, so quietly that he wasn't sure that the cameras would pick up his plea. Would Thee be able to mourn the loss of a brother he barely knew, barely remembered?

But Thay wasn't able to linger on the thought for long. The darkness quickly overwhelmed him, eager to drag him into its depths once and for all.

Her breathing was ragged as she tore down the hall, not caring how much noise she made. Lilith knew exactly where she'd left Nash, and the screams seemed to indicate he hadn't gone far. She silently cursed herself for leaving him at all - it had seemed like the right idea at the time, but now all she could do was hope that she wasn't too late.

(Deep in her heart, she already knew it was. She'd been too late for Merix, and she would be too late for Nash as well. Maybe she was cursed, destined only to bring ruin to the lives of everyone she interacted with.)

As she skidded around the corner, Lilith heard a sickening crunch that made her stomach drop. She brought her crossbow up immediately, taking aim before she even registered what was happening in front of her.

Twelve was hunched over Nash's body, driving a bloodied rock into the side of his head. She didn't even seem to notice Lilith's appearance, too hellbent on bringing the rock down again and again. The sight alone made her freeze up, unable to tighten her finger on the trigger. Lilith hardly knew where to aim, she just knew that she wanted Twelve to stop.

Her hands were trembling so badly that her first shot went wide, and Lilith frantically tried to reload. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her anxiety driving her heart rate up. By the time she got her next bolt loaded, Lilith aimed for the first thing she saw - Twelve's hand - and let it fly.

Twelve screeched as the bolt went directly through her wrist, the rock she was holding dropping to the ground. She immediately cradled her hand to her chest, stumbling back a few steps as if she'd been knocked out of some sort of daze. Lilith made direct eye contact with her as she loaded her crossbow again, hoping to at least take down Twelve before she became an even bigger issue down the line. But the girl sprinted off down the hall, rounding the corner before Lilith could even raise her crossbow.

"Fuck," she whispered before turning to Nash's fallen body a few feet in front of her. "Nash?"

She dropped to the floor next to him, the white of her pants instantly soaking up crimson blood. There were a few tiny chunks of rubble around, as if Twelve had hit with so much force that they'd broken off. Lilith nearly wanted to cry - there was just so much of it - but no tears managed to fall. Hovering over his motionless body, she tried to determine if there was anything she could do to help, but she couldn't even pinpoint where he was bleeding.

Perhaps it would be easier to determine where he wasn't.

Lilith shed her jacket, trying to see if she could soak up some of the blood, but the moment she pressed it to Nash's chest, his entire body convulsed and he let out a loud groan of pain.

"... Nash?" she tried again, hovering over him hesitantly. Lilith hadn't felt like a little girl in so long, but she was just as helpless now as she was back then - as she'd always been.

As she risked a look at his face, which she'd been so desperately trying to avoid, bile rose up in Lilith's throat. He was missing chunks of flesh all over his body, as if Twelve had to nearly cripple him before she could take him down. His entire body was nothing more than a mass of blood and bruises and open wounds. If she hadn't recognized his screams, Lilith wasn't sure that she'd be able to recognize him at all just by looking.

She tore her gaze away again, instead searching for his hand. It was sticky with blood, but she completely disregarded that in the hopes of being able to give him some kind of comfort.

Perhaps she could still help, in a way. Lilith swallowed hard at the idea, but she reached for one of her bolts anyway. There was no cannon yet, so she couldn't imagine the kind of pain he was in right now. At the very least, she could make all of that end.

Nash gave a ragged gasp, his hand suddenly tightening around hers as if she was his last tie to this world. Startled by the movement, she raised her head to look at his face, the whites of his eyes standing out against the crimson blood. His gaze was unfocused, and he stared aimlessly up at the ceiling.

His hand gripped hers tighter, and she nearly winced. His chest heaved a few times as if he was trying to summon enough energy to do something, but Lilith wasn't prepared for what came next.

"Merix?"

Lilith made a small strangled noise, leaning closer to him. She dropped the bolt she'd grabbed and held his hand in both of hers. "I… yeah. I'm here."

He didn't seem to notice he was talking to a ghost instead of her. "I-I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Lilith reassured him, hoping her words didn't ring false in his ears. She wasn't sure what to say, what would make things better.

Lilith Beherit wasn't made for fixing things.

"The stars," he whispered faintly, and Lilith knew without a doubt he could see them again. She hoped they were shining brightly.

Before she could say anything else, Nash's hand went limp in hers. No matter how tightly she squeezed, there was no response at all.

A cannon fired.

She'd lost them both.

Because Lilith herself was a curse, a nightmare that only brought ruin to things. Her happiness, so short lived, was merely a precursor to the destruction that would follow. What she wouldn't give for them to be standing here instead of her now…

Gently, she smoothed down Nash's bloodstained hair, hoping that he and Merix found peace wherever they ended up. Perhaps Lilith would even be joining them soon.

"I'm sorry," she whispered before getting to her feet. She hated leaving him behind, but there was nothing more she could do.

She was truly alone now. Lilith was still numb, as if things hadn't fully sank in yet. The new emptiness within her was nearly overwhelming, but she had to keep going. She wasn't done yet, she couldn't be.

If she couldn't kill Thay after all of this, what was any of it for?

8. Nash Prior, d5m. Bludgeoned to death.

Nash wished there were any stars that could comfort him now.

Kills:

Crush Xing: III

Thay Yukimura: II

Shai Kingston: II

Kano Arledge: II

Phaedra Nikostratos: I

Alila Perwane: I

Lilith Beherit: I

Justus Arculeo: I

Nash Prior: I

Jack Carmichael: I

Arena: II