They didn't speak for a long time.
When the arena vanished, the world around them returned to cracked streets and the shrieking wind of the Black Zone. Gray light filtered through the clouds. But neither Matthew nor Sora moved.
Rin was gone.
Not eliminated in a game. Not unlucky.
She chose it.
She chose herself.
Sora sat on the edge of a broken curb, staring at the wristband on her arm. It still blinked softly.
LIFE REMAINING: 6 DAYS
Matthew paced nearby, silent. Angry. Not just at Rin—but at himself.
"I trusted her," he said at last, his voice low.
Sora didn't look up. "We both did."
"She waited until the last second. Said she'd stay. She lied right to my face."
"She was good at it," Sora whispered. "We thought she was cold because she was strong. But maybe she was just… empty inside."
Matthew sat down beside her. His body hurt in ways he couldn't name.
"She could've worked with us. We would've made it. All three."
"No," Sora said. "Not in Death Land. It's built to make us think that… but every game is the same. It's always a number game. Someone has to lose."
Matthew stared at the city.
The towers loomed. The streets groaned. Something distant howled like metal bending.
"Do you think," he asked, "we'll end up like her?"
Sora didn't answer right away.
Then she reached out and grabbed his hand.
"No," she said. "Because if you ever try to betray me, I'll see it coming."
That made him laugh. Just a little. But it felt like pressure easing off his chest.
Then came the whisper.
Not from behind them.
From their wristbands.
PLAYER RIN HAS BEEN FLAGGED AS 'MISSING,' NOT ELIMINATED.
PENALTY: UNKNOWN.
They both froze.
"What?" Sora said.
Matthew stood, eyes wide.
"She's alive?"
"No…" Sora's voice dropped to a whisper. "No, something's wrong. That wasn't a normal elimination. Death Land doesn't miss."
The city around them seemed to shift in tone—less hostile, more watchful.
As if something—or someone—had made a move even Death Land didn't predict.