Walter Fitzroy was one of the finest Legends ever to grace this Arena. None other would come close to matching his self-assurance and bravery. Respected by many who admit, and more than don't. This wouldn't bother him, because he is an icon to those that want to see someone start from nothing, and then have everything.

This is the story of his death.

Chapter 1

Paradise Lounge was quiet this morning. Or rather, a facsimile of it. The Legends weren't allowed outside of the Arena facilities for half the year. Only Bloodhound and Gibraltar are here while Mirage serves, for old time's sake. While Mirage has enjoyed every minute of bamboozling and out-witting (Or "Elliot-Witting" as he likes to say) his opponents in the Blood Sport known as the Apex Games, he still finds that he's missing his mother, Evelyn, more now than ever before. He's also missed the life of a Bar Owner, which, after the mortal terror of fighting in the Games, now seems like meaningless busywork. He's playing some punk rock music through the Bar speakers. Mirage decides to ask about the mood.

"Why so glum, guys? We've got the day off, let's drink and smoke our brains out!" Bloodhound answers politely.

"I do not partake of mind-addling substances. While I believe that everyone should choose for themselves, I would rather have my wits about me always." Fuse strides in with more confidence than 10 people would ever need altogether and yells across the room to Bloodhound.

"Well, what the hell're ya doing in a bar, then?" Mirage and Gibraltar wave at Fuse, cheering his good name.

"Fu-u-use!"

"Evenin' fellas! How the hell are we?"

"Uh, not too great, I guess," Mirage replies. Fuse rests his metal arm in his usual spot on top of the bar, where after all this time there is a large dent the size of an apple, and notices that the Lounge is quite dull at the moment.

"Ah, no kiddin'? What's this sorry-lookin' lot?"

"I don't know what's wrong with them. I suggested alcohol and pot, and I've never needed anything else…" Gibraltar looks up from his drink, towards Mirage.

"I don't wanna offend you, Elliot, but what works for you doesn't work for everyone else." Gibraltar turns to Fuse.

"I think we're just tired of wondering if we'll come home after every match." Mirage seems to agree. "Yeah, I gotta admit, I'm not feeling great about heading up to the Dropship tomorrow." Fuse is incredulous:

"Oh, come on! I know we're going out there to fight and likely die soon, but this is the life! We've got more money and fame than anyone else in the Frontier! We all signed up for it, no use mopin' about now!" Bloodhound looks to Fuse

"I don't want to lose you, Walter." Fuse hears this, and his expression sobers up. He looks to Gibraltar and Mirage.

"Gimme some privacy here, fellas?" They nod and leave for their bunks. Fuse sits with Bloodhound and tries to reassure them.

"Now, don't go worryin' yourself about me, ya hear?"

"I cannot deny my fears. You must understand that."

"'Course I understand, but I've been at this for years. You can't imagine that there's something I won't handle?"

"But I do. I care for you, my Walter. Please do not leave me. We must find another way out of this life. I have had my fill, surely you have as well!"

Fuse sits in silence for the longest time… a most unusual occurrence. When he finally answers, Bloodhound can tell that he's being completely truthful.

"I'm sorry... I didn't know you felt like that." He is quiet again for a moment. "If that's what you want, I'm set on it as well…" Fuse perks up, suddenly inspired. "I'd bet the best time to bust outta here is during the match."

"Are you certain?"

"I am. Figure you can scan for a path with the fewest hostiles, we could nab a nice Trident hovercraft, I could outfit it with a heat shield for the radiation, and blow up the outer walls before anyone realizes we're gone."

"Then I will support you. Let us try."

"Absolutely. Tomorrow, we're free from the Arena... y'know, you're quite lucky to have someone as great as I am here…" Bloodhound laughs softly—another unusual occurrence.

"I love you, Walter."

They hold each other close, listening to the music, desperately wanting to stay that way for all eternity. May all others take their best shot, though it's very likely that no one in this good universe could tear them apart.