Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

   “What’s that?” Mi-na asked. The tickle of tiny legs crawled over her neck in simple curiosity. Thanos paused, spotting the fuzzy insect. He whispered tensely, using this as an opportunity to flirt.

“It knows you’re a flower, you’ve got a bee-“

BANG!

.

.

The deafening boom of a gunshot cut him off.

There was a player right in front of them that lurched back, collapsing into the ground.

‘Player 380, eliminated.’

Buzzing followed shortly, the bee floated off of Mi-na and to the supposed player. A girl-that was the first thing that Mi-na noticed. Thick crimson liquid pooled from her forehead, metallic and thick..it was blood.

Blood?

Another player noticed and shrieked, a shot followed shortly after. The single shriek soon became a chorus of screams. Mi-na’s heart began to accelerate, pounding in sync with the rapid fires that came out of nowhere. Blurs of teal and white dashed off in an attempt to flee from the bullets. Blood decorated the area in seconds before a chance was given.

Mi-na saw plenty of action movies, if peering over the TV at the salon counts. It was nowhere near comparison. The players fell fast and hard, no overdramatic tumbling. Not everyone dropped dead either. Some were still alive, gurgling and gasping as they choked on lead and their own fluid. It was enough to make Mi-na hurl.

Not even the crazy guy from earlier could stop the chaos, no matter how much he begged for them to freeze. Seconds felt like minutes until the final shot rang. Then eerie silence came once more.

‘Let me repeat.’

The calming voice returned, Mi-na felt anything but calm.

‘You can move forward while the tagger shouts, “Green light, red light.” If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.’

He was right. The guy that she and Thanos were mocking was right. How the hell did he know that?

The game was back on track, round after round, the doll sang its uncanny tune. Mi-na kept still. It was as though her feet were trapped in cement, all thoughts of keeping herself collected vanished from her brain. Nothing remained but throbbing, intensifying anxiety.

Mi-na couldn’t even look to see how many contestants remained. Time was running out, if she didn’t make it in time it was a guarantee she would soon join the dead.

Several pairs of blood-soaked shoes left her peripheral vision with unnatural desperation.

Mi-na was left with the scattered array of corpses as her only source of company. Her anxiety soared, she was alone. Mi-na squeezed her eyes tight and gritted her teeth, her throat closing up but she refused to let any sound come out. This was how she was going to die, wasn’t it? In a strange place in an ugly uniform, playing a children’s game. What could be more embarrassing than that?

A lurch of her body snapped her out of her panicked notions. A clammy hand was tugging her forward. Mi-na's eyes shot open, astonished that someone had come to the rescue. The messy purple hair gave it away.

So he didn’t leave her behind after all.

——-

   The grounds were like a stage for Thanos, and he was the star of the show. The star of the show with an unexpected twist. Make the wrong move and it costs your life, death no longer fazed the main performer, 

Blue-green and white were the colors of his costume, and blood was his signature makeup. Sprinkled all over his face after being too close to an unworthy star, that is what happens when one gets in the way of Thanos the great. Like a coked-up ballerina, Thanos flailed his arms wildly as he galloped down with Mi-na as his backup dancer. 

Mi-na was sucked back into her senses, she was still alive. Her eyes flitted to the rapper as they ran, unable to comprehend the strong feelings of gratitude that came over her. 

‘Red light!’

Thanos skidded his feet and stopped just before the doll could catch their motion. It was as though he was frozen in time. Arms outstretched mid-cheer, with Mi-na  basically hanging off of him like a ragdoll. Yet the weirdest of all? He was smiling.

Gratitude was then replaced with confusion. This wasn’t normal. He was nowhere near as carefree as the Thanos she briefly got to know, especially in the face of danger.

“What are you doing?” She hissed.

“Having fun.” Thanos’ mouth twitched, the shit-eating grin never falling. Bang! Another player collapsed by the two, blood surrounding the fresh corpse. 

‘Green light!’

They took off once again. Mi-na scrambled alongside him, clutching onto her scrunchie with her remaining hand. Her arm nearly popped out of its socket as Thanos did another heel click. She was lucky that she was able to keep up with the exuberant movement. Genetic flexibility truly paid off. 

‘Red light!’

Another shot rang, forty seconds left. The finish line was still several feet away. A moment of exhilaration coursed through her veins, the end goal was right there. 

Her grip tightened on Thanos’ hand subconsciously, unaware of the smug smirk he gave in return. 

When the doll rang the first syllable, Mi-na took off and left dust in her wake with Thanos skipping alongside her. The squeaky creak of the doll blared into her ear, it would move its camera-contained corneas and take out the weak. Not Mi-na. Not the boy who saved her life. Not when they were so close.

Their feet pounded into the ground, yet all Mi-na could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat and the high-pitched gasps that came from her throat.

Her only focus was the final destination. Mi-na’s breathing quickened as she followed the sea of players to the finish line. 

 No matter how much her lungs ached, the woman kept on pushing. With a final leap, they passed the vibrant red line, skidding safely onto the other side.

‘Red light!’

Mi-na ceased all movement, far too tense to move when that doll was looming over. Would the game truly be that cruel? She pursed her lips together, by moving her foot just by a millimeter to test the waters. Mi-an waited. Nothing hit her. She was safe, finally. Mi-na closed her eyes, bending into her knees as she let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Everyone else on her side was catching their breath as well, trying to register the shock. 

A loud buzzer went off, signaling the end of the game. Every player that lived managed to make it in time, only the dead remained in the wide field. Yet the moment of immense relief was cut short by a final gunshot. 

..everyone didn’t make it after all.

Thanos laughed maniacally in victory, punching his fists to the sky. She nearly forgot he was there.

“Yo!” He cheered, punching the air energetically “That was freaking boss!” The rapper stumbled back, landing on the sand like a cartoon character. He began making dust angels, cheering as though it were the best day of his life. 

Mi-na could only observe, baffled.

What joy could be found in a death game?

Chapter Text

The dormitory was casted under a dark golden light, everyone huddled in the back of the room. Heads in their hands, fetal in position. All of what had happened back at the arena finally sunk in, weighing on their shoulders. They avoided death, in a twisted version of an old game. Whatever came next was entirely in the hands of those masked men, now all they could do is wait.

Mi-na sat on one of the beds, trying to rub the blood-stains and dirt off her tracksuit. It was a good distraction, the quality of her outfits was always a go-to for forgetting things. 

Thanos sat right below her on the ground. Which was..a choice, not one she would personally make. He still had blood on his face, now dry. It bothered her enough to the point where she was ready to wipe it off herself. She knew Thanos would never let her hear the end of it. He sniffed loudly, wrinkling his nose. 

“You not feeling well?” A man asked. 

It was Nam-su, or was it Nam-gyu? -she couldn’t be bothered at the moment. Thanos briefly introduced him and one other young man when they got back. Everyone was far too shaken-up to properly interact at that point. 

Nam-gyu had a sharp face with even sharper cheekbones. If it weren’t for the visible Adam’s apple, Mi-na would’ve mistaken him for a girl. 

“Don’t worry,” Thanos brushed it off, “I’m okay.”

Next to her on the mattress was the other man, Gyeong-su. The guy was rather plain-looking, his haircut had no help in differentiating him with the other male contestants. The only thing that stood out to him was his small yet happy eyes. 

A loud buzz came, and the bright white lights switched back on. As if on cue, the pink soldiers emerged from the doors. Mi-na kept her ground alongside the group, feeling her stomach tighten at the sight of them. 

Congratulations were extended, but fear was still lingering. 

The square soldier spoke: “Here are the results. Out of 456 players, 91 have been eliminated.” 365 people remained.

An elderly woman and her son suddenly cried for forgiveness, begging not to be killed next. When one goes, so does the crowd. Mi-na watched condescendingly, the thought of bowing to some random masked man was way below her. 

“There seems to be a misunderstanding, we are not trying to harm you-“

“Seriously!” Mi-na called out, “Ya pump up a bunch of people with bullets and expect us to believe you?” Hesitant agreement came from the players. 

As though the guard was told this many times before, he replied dully. “To ensure a fair gameplay, the following players were eliminated for breaking the rules. Please understand that we are presenting you with an opportunity-“

“Clause three! The games may be terminated upon  majority vote.” A new voice entered, but it was nowhere near unfamiliar

The crazy man was at it again, though for once his information seemed useful, now that she knew what was happening. He was right, again.

 If the majority of contestants wished to leave, Mi-na could head home and forget this ever happened. Just like that, she was ready to head out the moment the guard confirmed the clause..

Then came the piggy bank.

———-

    A charming little gift box was displayed with two buttons: a blue ‘O’ and a red ‘X’. The blue button indicated a desire to stay, while the red button signaled a wish to leave. It was as simple as that, right?

On one hand: high stakes, crappy uniforms, crappy dorms, risk of failure/death. That and becoming reduced to another stack of bills for some rando that wasn’t her. But, on the other hand: money.

Like, sure death and all. But money.

The vote would be held in reverse order, since she was number 196 Mi-na had plenty of time to think.

If the majority vote was in Team ‘X’s favor, she’d leave with 24,931,500 won, it wasn’t enough to pay off her debt but it was a start.

Not even ten minutes into the voting, Mi-na was already bored to tears. She tugged on one of her blue braids, watching the numbers tick higher on the board.

Blue took the lead, then red, then blue again. Snail's pace, at best.

“Player 230.” The mention of the number snapped her out of her fruitless daze. She turned to Thanos, curious as to what he would pick.

He gave her no second glance and trotted down the aisle. Thanos paused at the podium, before eagerly tapping the blue button. The scoreboard now had 87 votes for ‘X’ and the O’s had 93.

“Wait a minute-everyone!”

Oh my god.

As if the voting didn’t take long enough, the crazy man just had to interfere and make an opinion.

“You can’t do this! Come to your senses don’t you see? These aren’t just any games. We will all die if we keep playing. We have to get out of here now, with a majority vote we can!”

Going along with that came Spouts of ‘Who do you think you are? You just want the money for yourself!’

Yadda yadda yadda’

Mi-na mindlessly twirled her hair around as she blocked out the arguing, none of it appealed to her. It wasn’t the fun kind of arguing, no. This was no new gossip about celebrities or scandals with boy bands, it honestly felt kind of political.

More people got involved, and the dormitory grew louder with overlapping shouts. She was just about ready to snap, howling at the crowd to shut up, but the crazy guy beat her to it:

“I'VE PLAYED THESE GAMES BEFORE!”

.

A beat of silence came, and the frustration became both rational and mostly understood.

“I said I’ve played these games before! I knew about the first game because I had played it before! Do you hear me?! I’ve played these games before!”

Mi-na leaned over to Nam-gyu
“I don’t know about you, but I think he’s played these games before.”

Nam-gyu snickers, covering it with a cough. He itches his nose, trying to act like her sarcasm didn’t amuse him. It totally did. Mi-na smirked as she watched the crazed man somehow act more like a lunatic.

So, he was the winner. Who had all that beautiful 45.6 billion won yet chose to come back, but there were some benefits to that. According to the others, they could get some tips. Just like Red Light Green Light.

Mi-na wasn’t fully paying attention, though it was evident that the man was in distress. No amount of convincing could overpower the greed of men. Anguish intensified in the crazy man’s warnings, clinging to the shoulders of a player who hadn’t voted yet.

Finally, one of the pink guards coerced him to silence.

“From now on, interruptions will not be tolerated during the voting process.”

Once more, the vote recommenced. The numbers dwindled closer to Mi-na’s eventual turn.

‘Player 196’

Mi-na perked up, her focus on the buttons ahead. With immense conviction, she sauntered down the aisle.

Several hopeful eyes surveyed from both sides, praying that she would make a choice that would benefit them. However, only one pair of eyes was the most welcoming. Mi-na’s lip twitched upward slightly but never wavered.

Once she made it to the podium, Mi-na popped her hip and scoffed. After all, why not? Besides, it would be fun to see what happens.

With two fingers, she tapped the button. She heard a bouncy ring, then a flick of the scoreboard.

Sighs of relief flowed from the ‘O’ team and groans from the ‘X’ team. Mi-na took the blue patch from the guard’s gloved hands. She stuck the patch perfectly onto the Velcro, careful to not leave any wrinkles and bends.

Peeking out from the crowd, a smirking Thanos kept his eyes on her. When she took her place beside him, he once again put on a show. Pouting his lip, he uncrossed his arms with unnecessary flair, which only delighted her further. Thanos curtly nodded, visibly impressed.

“Good choice, señorita.”

Chapter Text

About half an hour before lights out, Mi-na tidied up in the bathroom. When washing her face with soap from the cheap dispensers, she thought of home. How she missed her cabinets full of skincare and that cute shampoo set she bought from last week.

As if tacky clothes weren’t enough, there were also no showers in this place. How was Mi-na expected to sit in a warehouse with hundreds of people if they didn’t even provide deodorant? It was a miracle she managed to keep the complaining to a minimum.

May as well make diamonds out of coal. As
the square guard said, these games were an opportunity. Besides, if she was going to die here she may as well die looking (and smelling) good.

Once Mi-na exited the bathroom, everyone was tucked in bed. The only light on was the golden piggy bank that illuminated from above.

With a huff, Mi-na settled onto her bunk and stretched. She removed her scrunchie, allowing her hair to fully cascade down her shoulders like a waterfall. Now that the day was done, she could slip on her scrunchie and lounge about until sleep finally came.

“You’re staring,” Mi-na stated, sensing she wasn’t alone.

Thanos froze. The rapper was hunched over on a nearby bunk, obvious in his snooping. He cleared his throat, throwing himself back into his old-fashioned groove.

“And to think that the beauty flower couldn’t be more bewitching! Putting on this show for me, too? I’m honored.” He praised, placing a hand to his chest.

Mi-na sneered at him, shifting away in disdain. Thanos’ smirk faltered, knowing that look all too well. He brushed it off with another joking remark.

“Ouch, no compliments tonight? You usually eat them up, like the hungry little flower you are.” Thanos chuckles, making a chomping gesture with his hand.

When she doesn’t respond, he leans back. Odd, this type of stuff had her smiling before.

“Hey. You alright?” He asked, for once his voice was devoid of its usual flair.

Mi-na finally peeked over her shoulder and whispered, “What happened back there?”

“Aw! That old dude was tryin’ to tell us what to do. It was pissing me off! He ended up whipping me good though.” Thanos explained, thinking back to the fight from before. “Yeah, he’s like the top dog and all, but I am definitely the runneru-“

“No, I don’t mean the fight—” Mi-na groaned. “I mean, back at the arena, place, thing—whatever! The game!” She threw her hand up. “You were acting like a total psycho. What was up with that?”

Thanos didn’t even seem to recall the events of the game, judging by the thousand yard stare he gave in response.

“I..was just having fun, y'know me! The great Thanos either goes hard or goes home.” He jerked his thumbs to himself. “That’s what happens when ya mix adrenaline with hardcore druuu…”

The vowel trails off in a long drawl, but it was too late to take it back.

Her jaw dropped, finally piecing it together.

“You have drugs?” She whispered, surprised he even managed to bring some into the games. His weird behavior didn’t matter anymore, it was the fact that the guards took just about everything: Their wallets, phones, bags. Yet they let him keep drugs, of all things. “How’d they let you do that?”

Thanos did a double-take around the dormitory, making sure no one was watching. When it was clear, he gestured for her to come over.

"Let’s just say I have my ways" he teased,
maintaining the mystery.

With a zip from the tracksuit, he pulled out a cross necklace bedazzled with silver, displaying it in the palms of his hands. Thanos would then pry it open, revealing an array of circular tablets, all in a variety of vibrant colors.

“No one checks the cross.” He snickered mischievously.

Mi-na could only scoff in amazement, that sneaky bastard.

“Want one?” Said Thanos.

Mi-na paused as she eyed the mysterious happy candy. Before she could even reply, Thanos closed the cross shut.

“Psh, only kidding. They’re not for you anyway, it’s a whole new level of crazy! I couldn’t do that to you, girl.”

Mi-na could only smile, glancing away in mild confusion. He was weird but, in a fun kinda way..

“We’d start you out small. I got some weed back at my place, and I'll add more of your style if you’re interested.” He casually offered.

Mi-na simply gave him a toothy smile, inching close just enough for him to falter.

“Sure, I’ll think about it.” She spoke in her ever-so-playful voice, earning a little lip twitch from Thanos that made all the difference.

Chapter Text

Triumphant trumpets thundered from the speakers in perfect symphony. Classical music was never Mi-na’s forte. If it were her choice, she’d rather wake up to the latest Pop or Hip-Hop hits. But nooo, this sadistic murder play was run by old people.

Buzzzzz!

‘Attention please, the second game will begin momentarily. Please follow the instructions from our staff.’

Mi-na remained snuggled up in her bunk, savoring the warmth contained in the blankets. Maybe no one would notice.

“Wakey, wakey Señorita!” Thanos purred, nudging the mattress.

Mi-na whined, rolling onto her stomach and burying her head under the pillow.

Thanos nudged the mattress again. “C'monn, it’s time to play the game.”

“I’m not in the mood to die right now.” she groused, hardly awake.

“Nah, you won’t die. You got the great Thanos to protect you.” He reassured her with utmost confidence in himself.

Thanos lifted a portion of the pillow, peeking underneath. Mi-na shifted, holding his gaze for a moment. There was a vibrant teal to his eyes, Mi-na noticed, that surrounded his dilated pupils. Without a doubt the man probably wore contacts, and even more so he would deny it.

“Cmon, girl. You can’t ignore me forever.” Thanos drew even closer, tilting his head just enough to rattle her. Does he really think he can just smirk like that and get whatever he wants?

Mi-na eventually caved in, finally slipping out of bed.

“Unbelievable.”
Mi-na trotted to join the crowd, refusing to acknowledge Thanos’ moment of triumph.

“Let’s go!” He spurred, barreling after her because he just HAD to be by her side.

Up the stairs they went, up the geometric labyrinth with pastel colors. Of course, she wasn’t going to wake up looking like a mess so Mi-na put up her ponytail, tightening it just enough to feel the tension in her scalp.

Thanos trailed behind, matching her steps while simultaneously checking her out. Respectfully.
Fortunately, the remaining players didn’t have to go up as many stairs, but there were still just enough flights to have Mi-na’s legs sore by the end of it.

A large sliding door unveiled from the arena before the living. It looked to be an old elementary school yard, boxed in by watercolors walls and painted clouds. Right on the ground were two large rainbows that formed symmetrical circles. Flags of countries from all around the world hung above them.

At that moment, it was as though a fragment of her childhood was placed here. The rainbow tracks reminded her of the school festivals Mi-na would take part in. Or in her case, watching everyone else play while she laughed at the runts.

‘Welcome to your second game. This game will be played in teams, please divide into teams of five within the next ten minutes.’

Instinctively she turned to Thanos, he was the only person she knew after all. She didn’t want to seem desperate though, not in a place that seemed to feed off desperation.

“Señorita,” Thanos chimed, as if on cue. He gestured to the two of them “You and me?”

“You want me to team up with you?” Mi-na asked, as if unable to comprehend the offer.

“Of course.” He flicked his hand. “We’d be unstoppable together, you and me. We got mad power between us, can’t you feel it? .” He wiggles his fingers, nodding his head to an imaginative beat.

Yeah, he’s definitely on drugs.

As weird as he was, the man was beyond entertaining. She parted her lips, pretending to contemplate before giving him a toothy grin

“Alright, Why not?”

“That’s what I’m talkin about, my girl!”

Thanos then cupped his hands and called out from the sea of people.

“NAM-SUUU!!!!!”

—-

—-

Chapter 7: Sexism in the 21st Century
—-

“Nam-gyu.” A voice corrected Thanos.

A head of slicked back hair that shined in the artificial light carelessly pushed through the crowd. Nam-gyu arrived with Gyeong-su swiftly trailing behind him.

“Let’s play the game together.” Thanos settles, confident Nam-gyu would say yes.

Nam-gyu nodded with no further objection, he’d probably eat glass if Thanos told him to.

Thanos robotically whipped his head to Gyeong-su, who gave him a grin so wide it took up over a third of his face. Thanos snapped his finger in recognition, that triangular smile bringing him back.

“Right, right, you. Come join us too.”

Mi-na swore Gyeong-su could cry from joy, it almost made her laugh at how eager he was. The contagiousness of his excitement quickly soured the moment Nam-gyu realized Mi-na was there.

He fixated on Mi-na with a new-found skepticism.

He wasted no time to complain to his dear confidante, Thanos.

“We’re gonna let the girl join? We don’t even know what kind of game this is.”

Mi-na’s brows knit together.

Bitch?

She was able to conceal her exasperation with an ever so posh poker face.

And here she thought he was one of the better ones.

Thanos clapped Nam-gyu firmly on the shoulder, this time a warning rather than a friendly gesture.

“Relax, man. She's cool. I vouch for her.” He gave her a finger gun.

Nam-gyu pursed his lips and sighed, quickly diminishing his apprehension.

Mi-na’s chin lifted in satisfaction, she was staying and that was final. With a quick glance she snuck in just enough warmth for Thanos to see the gratitude she had for him.

The subtle shift in her expression didn't escape him. Thanos felt the appreciation, and he acknowledged it with a subtle wink.

“Come on, let’s go find another sucker to join us.”

Mi-na skimmed over the area, taking part in the little hunt. So many people had already formed groups, it’d be harder to spot an available player. Judging by the track, it was probably a race so maybe someone that looked agile. Or, maybe someone fun, someone cute, or someone she could tolerate at least.

As she maneuvered through the crowd, the right amount of people parted the way for her. Out from the waves of contestants was a single ripple that caught her attention. A contestant she hadn’t seen before.

A couple feet away stood a young boy with the number 125 printed on his tracksuit.
He wandered aimlessly with his arms close to his sides. The kid was clueless, but more importantly he was alone.

“How about him?” she pointed to the group.

Nam-gyu eyed the player, before instantly hanging his head in dismay.

“He looks like a freaking dork.” Nam-gyu glowered.

“We kept you, didn’t we?” Mi-na retorted with a titter.

“I-You Fucking Bitch.”

Just as Nam-gyu was about to unleash his wrath, Thanos shoved past him to make a beeline to the mystery player. Mi-na and Gyeong-su followed.

“Hey.” Thanos greeted the boy coolly.

Now that they were up close, he looked even more like a dork. The boy had a flat head that made him appear as though he were dropped several times as a kid. Spouting out from his skull were shiny, dark locks that covered his brows, although it was nowhere near as shiny as Nam-gyu’s. All in all, a total baby face with round, innocent eyes that nervously flicked to each member of the team.

“What’s your name?” Thanos asked.

“It’s Min-su.” The boy uttered, his voice soft and polite. That was all Thanos needed to know.

“What’s up? Nice to meet you, my brother. Welcome to the Thanos world.” He gave him a bro shake, before embracing him in a one-arm hug. “You’re cute, wanna join my team?”

Min-su blinked in confusion, before giving him a timid smile and a nod.

Min-su was definitely the type of boy people would walk all over in high school. Even if he didn’t want to join, he wouldn’t say no.

“C’mon.” Thanos jerked his head, power walking through the arena with the team following like baby ducks.

‘Time for team selection is up.’

The contestants sat in four vertical rows, the middle being five by eleven players while the left and right sides were five by seven.

Mi-na took off her jacket and splayed it down like a beach towel. It would take forever to get the dust off her pants, and she wasn’t going to risk it.

She sat right in between Min-su and Nam-gyu. It wasn’t her first choice, but Nam-gyu already beat her to the spot she wanted.

‘The game you will be playing is Six-legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each member will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one.’

It really was like a sports festival.

Mi-na mindlessly checked at her hot pink nails, reminiscing the simplicity of Red Light Green Light.

‘Here are the mini-games:

Number one, the Ddakji.

Number two, Flying Stone.

Number three, Gong-gi.

Number four, Spinning Top.

Number five, Jegi.’

There were little stations for the guards, each one sat by a tiny table with the corresponding number written in thick chalk.

‘Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes.’

So they hate them. They hate them all, is that what they’re saying?

Thanos turned to the team.

“You guys pick.” He whispered, before pulling his head back into the clouds.

Mi-na leaned back on her make-shift towel, wrinkling her nose in annoyance.

Could things just not be complicated for once?

Chapter Text

“Attention players. Please wait while we tidy up the venue.”

That voice. That eerie, despicable voice. It spoke of manslaughter like it was a minor inconvenience. All because these people were in debt, it stripped them of their value as human beings. All they were to this cooperation of pink soldiers and porcelain dolls were disposable trash with a pulse.

Mi-na felt like a fraud for wearing that bright blue patch, for testing her luck in these games. She was still alive, at least for now.

The ‘X’s were just being dramatic. They weren’t all gonna die. Who would get the money if that happened?

For someone acting all cool before, Nam-gyu was horror-struck. His hands were trembling, his voice too. Not in a hot way, either. Judging by the soft crunches and the not-so-secretive whispers, Thanos gave him his share of palettes.

“What?” Nam-gyu muttered mid-chew, catching Min-su, who watched the whole thing.

“Nothing.” He quickly said, sheepishly.

“What’s your name again?” Nam-gyu sat with his legs crossed, matching Min-su.

“It’s Min-su.”

“Min-su. Min-su.. What’s that famous quote by Admiral Yi Sun-sin?”

Nam-gyu cut him off before Min-su could think back.

“Those seeking life shall croak. Those seeking death shall live. So don’t be scared. Just tell yourself that you don’t care if you die. Then we’ll survive, win the money, and get the fuck out.”

“He’s got a point,” Mi-na chimed in. “He just needs to take his own advice.” She wiggled her fingers, mocking Nam-gyu’s shaking hands.

“What’s with you?” Nam-gyu asked. “You’ve been extra bitchy today. ”

“Yeah I am, you were rude. Plus, I’m petty.” Mi-na explained, going back to twiddling with her braids. She didn’t want to look at his face any more than she needed to.

“You’re still on about that?” He sneered. “You’re on the team, so stop complaining. Just don’t freak out and we’ll be fine.”

“You’re one to talk,” Mi-na snickered, pressing her fingertips delicately to her lips.

Nam-gyu slacked his jaw. “Fucking bitch.”

Mi-na smiled slyly, knowing she got to him.

After clearing the venue, save for the puddles of blood, the games continued.

Teams three and four did far better. When there was a struggle, it was met with support and compassion. Mi-na would clap politely each time they passed, having to avoid being hit by an ecstatic crowd.

Rare as it was, this was probably one of the few times the contestants were actually supportive of each other. There was a sense of unity. A connection among mere strangers, united to meet one goal: to survive.

Both teams crossed the finish line just in the nick of time. Mi-na let out a loud squeal, quickly cutting it off. No one noticed, as everyone was far too relieved to see both teams made it out alive. Mi-na could relish in the cheers, ignore the dread a little longer.

Until it was their turn.

‘Teams five and six, please step onto the track.’

From left to right, the group stood in the following order: Gyeong-su, Mi-na, Min-su, Nam-gyu, and Thanos.

Mi-na sucked in some air, fixing the cuffs of her sleeves for the hundredth time. The only thing that calmed her racing heart was the hope that they could win and the sake of her dignity. She told herself to think of it as an average six-legged race. No one was going to die- this was for fun! This was just for fun.

Firm straps wrapped along her ankles, connecting her feet with Gyeong-su and Min-su’s. They were far tighter than they looked, cutting off any circulation in her legs. She felt even more trapped in the game than before.

Everyone else looked just as tense, besides Thanos, of course. The guy was doing some weird dance. Nam-gyu looked nervous, but his hands weren’t shaking. Gyeong-su kept shuffling, aligning his feet right on the red part of the rainbow track. Min-su stood frozen solid.

Mi-na snaked her arms through Min-su and Gyeong-su’s, keeping a firm grip.

A gun craned into the air and streaked the artificial sky.

Bang!

Off they went, one foot in front of the other. Each step was weighted and flimsy, but Mi-na adjusted to the pace.

Thanos led the count, energetically shouting “One, two! One, two!” right til they reached the first 10 meter mark.

First stage: ddakji.

Gyeong-su’s turn.

At the station, a pink guard held a box containing a blue and red paper card.

Gyeong-su took the blue one, his face pale.

With a quick hand, Gyeong-su slammed the card down onto the other. Such force sent both spiraling. The red card landed right on the blank side.

‘Pass!’

“LETS GO!!” Thanos bucked, relocking arms with Nam-gyu to lead the count.

Second stage: Flying Stone.

Mi-na’s turn.

Mi-na snatched the chiseled stone. There was at least 2-3 meters of distance between her and the target, meaning a decent amount of walking if she messed up.

Mi-na crouched low, angling herself just behind the line.

Now, for the throw.

Mi-na loosened her wrist, before giving it a hearty chuck, throwing it like a frisbee.

The stone soared, bouncing along the pavement the way a stone would skip along a pond of water.

It struck the target with a grave crack! Knocking it onto the ground.

Everyone roared in commemoration, Thanos being the loudest. They wasted no time to cheer, they wouldn’t make that mistake..

Third Stage: Gong-gi.

Min-su’s turn.

On the little table held plastic jacks with colors that matched a rainbow.

Min-su scattered the stones, tossing one up in the air. He threw another, one too low for him to catch, so it slipped.

‘Fail!’

Nam-gyu grinded his teeth.

Min-su rolled the gonggitdol once more, bobbing his head each time he sent a piece flying upwards. He managed to get to a three pick before he stumbled his roll.

‘Fail!’

Another tumble.

‘Fail!’

Another flimsy hand.

Min-su’s movement became more scampered. If he kept messing up, it wouldn’t just cost his life but everyone else’s.

‘Fail!’

Nam-gyu snapped, clutching him by the tracksuit “YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” He shook him aggressively “You have one job you dumb shit!”

Min-su winced, flailing like a ragdoll under Nam-gyu’s death grip.

“We’re all going to die because of y-AH!” Nam-gyu reeled, Mi-na had smacked him on the back of the head.

“Oh my god, can you shut up? You’re scaring him!” Mi-na seized the gonggidols and shoved them into Min-su’s hands.

“Min-su. Gonggi. Now.”

Min-su looked up at her helplessly, his hands quivering.

Three minutes remained on the clock.

“You’re fine,” she consoled him, patting his arm reassuringly.

Min-su gripped onto the Korean jacks; his shaking ceased. He rolled the gonggitdol once again. Tossing one, then two, then three. With each toss, his hands became steady and his movement hypnotizing, everyone trained on Min-su. He tossed all five, laying them out on the back of his hand.

“Cmon..cmon.” Nam-gyu bit at his nails.

Mi-na held her breath.

He flung the gonggitdol high into the air, palm outstretched to make that last catch.

Chapter Text

Min-su clasped his hand at neck-breaking speed. When he revealed his fingers, all five gonggitdols lay in his palm.

For the first time, Mi-na was thrilled to hear the feminine toll from the loudspeaker.

‘Pass!’

Min-su discarded the cursed jacks at once, finally relinquishing from his part of the game.

He did it, it took some time, but he did it.

Two minutes and ten seconds left, with two more mini-games to play.

If anyone messed up just as much as Min-su, they would sleep in coffins instead of cramped bunks. Mi-na would hold it against them long after she was dead.

Fourth Stage: Spinning Top

Nam-gyu’s turn.

Nam-gyu tied the tiny black rope around the axle, following the indents engraved on the bottom of the spinning top. He was far too engrossed to notice Thanos mimicking the motion with inconsistent vitality.

Once the rope was tied, Nam-gyu released it. The top took flight, twirling mid-air. It hit the surface with such perfect balance there was no way it couldn’t-

Nope. It clattered to the ground and rolled on its side.

‘Fail!’

The top lay motionless, as if taunting him from afar. Nam-gyu was paralyzed, consumed with devastation. This was his big moment, and he looked like a fool. For someone so impatient at others’ wrong-doings, he couldn’t seem to handle his own.

“Ayo! We got this party rockin’ shit, c’mon!” Thanos hyped them up, it wasn’t over yet.

Everyone waddled to the spinning top rested, a couple of meters forward. Nam-gyu slowly reached for the top, seemingly unconcerned about wasting valuable time.

“BaaaaAAaaAck!!” Thanos spun his arm like the blade of a windmill, guiding the group the way a drill sergeant would lead his lackeys.

The team carefully tiptoed to the track. All the while, Nam-gyu rekindled the rope around the spinning top.

Mi-na checked the timer, a minute and fifty-six seconds left.

By the time they returned to the line, Nam-gyu had completely secured the rope at the top.

“You can do this shit, bro!” Thanos screeched in encouragement, all up in his face. Nam-gyu motioned for him to back up, then Thanos reclined.

Nam-gyu released the thread, only this time, when the top landed, it spun at a steady speed.

‘Pass!’

Nam-gyu hollered, legs wobbling like noodles. The restraints are the one thing keeping him balanced.

Just one more game.

Fifth stage: Jegi.

Thanos’ turn.

Thanos stood tall. All he needed to do was kick the Jegi five times, all while keeping it in the air.

Pointing two fingers at Mi-na, he gestured with the Jegi as if asking for her attention. Mi-na gave him a confused smirk, was he seriously trying to impress her? Now?

Thanos took the Jegi and gave it a couple tosses. Just to get a good feel of the weight. Then, he put it to work.

One.

He lined up the shot, his foot poised with each kick.

Two.

The remaining seconds ticking away.

Three.

Thanos directed the Jegi with ease.

Four.

With one more powerful kick, Thanos punted it as hard as he could. The jegi launched off the track, exploding into a cloud of dust.

“Five.” he flexed his hand.

‘Pass!’

“Come on!” Mi-na called her team.

“One, two! One, two!”

Their voices grew stronger. She realized that the five of them weren’t the only one’s counting, the crowd had joined in. Strangers encouraged every step from the sidelines, building rushes of adrenaline, excitement, and hope. So they trudged, conjoined strides pulling them closer to that finish line.

How the red ribbon called to them, even as precious time ticked down: 0:29, 0:28, 0:27.

The ribbon snapped.

Out came roars of victory, the team laughed and screamed in pure ecstasy.

They were safe.

Mi-na allowed herself a moment of genuine relief, watching these boys, these men, that got her to this point.

Gyeong-su tugged at his hair as if trying to convince himself he was still there. Min-su joined the clamor, though he seemed more confused than enthusiastic.

Thanos leaped onto Nam-gyu, forgetting that their legs were still wrapped together.

“That’s what I’m talking about! CMERE!”

“Thanos, THANOS WAI-!”

Nam-gyu lost his footing and toppled over, taking everyone down with him. They fell like dominos, left in a pile of limbs and smiles.

Gyeong-su was giggling uncontrollably. Min-su’s mouth was quirked upwards in the closest thing that he could get to a smile. Nam-gyu just stared at the ceiling, catching his breath. His face was one of utter satisfaction.

The guards unlocked their braces, now they were able to freely move. Mi-na was about to stand when a hand reached out for her to take. An outstretched hand with silver rings and line tattoos.

Thanos loomed over, little droplets of sweat planted along the sides of his forehead, dampening his purple hair into a dark violet color.

“Need a lift, senorita?” He said with such complacency, it was obvious how hard he was trying.

Mi-na surveilled his hand as though it were a tempting antique, then took it. Might as well give him this one opportunity, she thought.

Thanos hoisted her up effortlessly.

“You weren’t too bad out there.” she mused, brushing past him.

Thanos paused, unable to wipe away that shit-eating smile of his. He bumped back into her, letting their shoulders touch as they walked to the dormitory.

As they walked, Mi-na felt the back of her head burn. It was as though two holes were being drilled into it; Hateful, icy holes. She didn’t think much of it, besides! It didn’t matter now, she was guaranteed to live another day.

And that was something to celebrate.

Chapter Text

Mi-na dropped onto the metal stairs, laughing long after the excitement ended. Everyone had joined her, huddled in their group. It was unspoken yet official, they were a Team. After the game, no one wanted to be near anyone else but each other. Mi-na liked that.

It was probably the safer option, anyway.

Thanos clasped Min-su’s arm,

“You were a gonggi pro! Props to Miss Señorita for pick in’ you out” He exclaimed, pulling Mi-na in just to praise her some more.

Thanos had her so close, they were practically molding into each other. Mi-na was far too pleased with being yknow..alive to care.

Min-su hugged himself, not used to the praise. To be fair, Min-su wasn’t great at gonggi by any means. Yes, there was a lot of pressure, but ‘pro’ was pushing it.

Still, he saved their lives.

“You picked me?” He asked Mi-na, as if he couldn’t believe it. There was so much hope; yet so much uncertainty.

In that moment, Mi-na felt endeared to him, as pathetic as his kicked puppy attitude was. Mi-na shrugged, burying the urge to squeeze him until he popped.

“Of course, we needed five people.”

Min-su squeezed himself tighter.

“That son of a bitch,” Nam-gyu broke from his own little island with a laugh. Whether it was out of relief or disappointment, Mi-na couldn’t be sure.

Walking out from the doors, was Player 333 and four other men. He must have passed the second game, judging from the sweaty aroma that followed after him.

Then it clicked.

“Isn’t that the guy you two beat up?” Mi-na asked.

“The very same; MG Coin,” Thanos said, “The bastard owes me so much money.”

Mi-na had memorized the entire story and could retell it verbatim: MG Coin, formerly known as Lee Myung-gi, was a famous YouTuber and crypto scammer. Creator of the Dalmatian currency, creator of financial destruction. Thanos, Nam-gyu, and a bunch of other contributors lost a fortune to the scam that was supposedly a great success. Lee Myung-gi was no exception to the failure of a scam, after all he was down here.

Since the infamous beating from the day before, Lee Myung-gi was easy to spot. Purplish-red bruises splotched the left side of his face, the edges were starting to fade to an ugly yellow.

Plenty of more teams came out afterwards. More people alive meant less money, which meant less to work off of.

Once more, the value of human life has been challenged.

“Fuck, way too many alive,” Nam-gyu sighed.
“Hey, how many do you think are left?” he pivoted to Min-su.

“Sorry?” Min-su lifted his face from his knees.

“How many roaches do you think we have left in here?” Nam-gyu asked again.

Min-su scanned the place. “About 200.” He accumulated.

“How would you know that?” Nam-gyu said, “Are you an A. I bot? Go count them,” he jerked his head to the area.

“Now?” Min-su asked, riddled with dread. It was a tedious task, an unnecessary one.

Nam-gyu gave him a hurried nod.

“Oh, okay,” Min-su said in a whisper, rising to his feet.

“Why don’t you do it? You have legs,” Mi-na

“I didn’t ask you, whore-“ “Stop it,”

Thanos threw his hands up into the air, halting any more insults that the two could hurl at each other. He jabbed his finger to Nam-gyu.

“Don’t call her names like that. We respect women here.”

“But she-!”

“Ay,” he warned. Thanos would not hear anymore, so Nam-gyu went quiet.

“And you,” he pointed to Min-su, “what’s your name again?”

“It’s Min-su.”

“How old are you?”

“..I’m 27.”

Thanos added the numbers in his head.

“..So you were born in 1997. Why do you treat him like he’s your boss? He’s the same age as you. Nam-su isn’t that right?”

“Nam-gyu.”

“Yes, Nam-gyu,” he sighed, “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” Nam-gyu nodded.

“You’re the same age. Treat him like a friend, we’ll work better as a team,” he said firmly. “Okay?”

Thanos seemed to value the team much more than he let on. Mi-na didn’t know he was capable, to be honest it was relieving.

Thanos asked around for everyone else’s age. Gyeong-su was the youngest by one year. Which surprised Mi-na. She would have thought that Min-su would be the youngest. Yet, he seemed to be pretty disclosed with his own age.

Was he ashamed?

“How old are you, then?” Mi-na threw the question back at him.

“I am a timeless relic.” He spoke proudly, placing his hands to his chest.

“No really, how old are you?”

Thanos faltered, as if he didn’t expect anyone to ask. He cupped his mouth and whispered in her ear.

Mi-na gaped.

“How?! You look so young!” She smushed his face together, scrutinizing every pore on his immaculate skin.

Thanos let out a grunt, but showed no signs of protest.

His skin was crystal clear, no signs of blemishes at all. Not to mention his skin was incredibly smooth, she may as well have been touching glass.

“You need to tell me your skincare routine now.” Mi-na demanded.

Thanos allowed her to fuss over him, when he tried to speak it was muffled through his squished cheeks.

“It’s just bar soap-“

“Bar soap my ass!”

“I swear, flower. I swear! On my mom,” he reassured her between raspy laughs.

She finally released him. The years were catching up to her. If this was Thanos past his prime, what would that mean for Mi-na?

“I’m gonna have wrinkles by 28..” she groaned, and fully believed it.

Chapter Text

Mi-na saw the money fall from the piggy bank, in awe of all the mouth-watering cash just above her head. If only it were glass, not plastic.

Out of all 220 players, 110 were eliminated from the last game. The prize money was now up to 20.1 billion won, giving each remaining contestant 78 million.

78 million won. That was it. She had more than enough. With money like that, she could finally get the bank off her dick. And with at least 30,000 won to spare!

No need for complaint. Yes, to a majority, the prize could just cover 10% of their debt. But it was over 100% for her!

Soldiers moved the large, ribboned voting machine to the front of the room. She could already feel the crisp paper in her fingertips, smell the coppery scent, and taste the riches that would soon max her credit card.

The head guard called the upcoming vote a “democratic” exit; Everyone chose their own departure. Mi-na knew she was in for a wild ride she was desperate to get off.

“We stay.”

Thanos pointed to the digital board of numbers. “If we all choose ‘O,’ we got a better chance of winning the vote.”

“You really want to stay?”

Thanos laughed, as though it were the funniest thing she had said all day.

“Why wouldn’t we?”

Mi-na bit the inside of her cheek, unwanted attention now sprung upon her from the men. Those wretched walls came up again, always surrounding Mi-na; Uneven cement, constantly scraped off and slathered on again, sprouting golden nails.

“Duh,” Mi-na began, “I want more money, but I also don’t want to die. If I die next game, I won’t be able to spend it..which is kind of the point?”

They eyed her as though she was the sole reason they were stuck in debt. That she was the obstacle that kept them from lifelong luxury. She sensed the nails protruding farther from the cement.

“You’re not actually considering leaving, are you?” Nam-gyu asked in disbelief. He stayed calm and composed. A distinct contrast to Thanos, but no less kind.

“You’ll make it out fine with that low debt of yours. I’m sure. But us? We won’t last a fucking week. Have some compassion for your teammates, why don’t you?”

It was as though he was trying to make her look bad. In front of the group. In front of Thanos.

Gyeong-su rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean-I could use more money..” he said.

Min-su, who had the ‘X’ since the start, left her hanging. But it was expected.

Everyone was in silent agreement, refusing to take her side.

“Cmon, lay offa’ her. She’s obviously going to vote ‘O’,” Thanos turned to Mi-na, “right, Flower?”

Two days prior, Mina would have dismissed the question and left the ground running. Yet, those expectant blue eyes ate her away

Voting was much more than pushing buttons. She could see it now. If she voted to leave and lost, it was likely they wouldn’t want her back in the group. Thanos wouldn’t have her back, and Nam-gyu..

“Of course.”

“Attention, players, please place your votes.”

The vote started with Player 001 and proceeded in numerical order.

Mi-na watched the scoreboard climb with each vote. Some players wavered; others remained firm.

“Don’t betray us,” she heard Nam-gyu whisper, but he wasn’t looking at her.

Min-su looked like a newborn, unsteady and confused, drifting in and out of himself. “What?” he mumbled.

“We agreed to another game, right?”

Mi-na ignored his helpless plea, those sad, little hamster eyes. It wasn’t spite, just energy conservation for the vote.

When it was Nam-gyu’s turn, the vote was at a tie. The 34 ‘O’s soon became 35. A firm believer in gambler’s luck.

“Player 125.”

With a firm pat, disguised by temporary companionship, Min-su teetered out and down the red and blue lines.

“There’s no way he’s gonna vote ‘O’,” Mi-na whispered.

Thanos kept his attention on the scoreboard. He was very focused on her.

“Probably not.”

Min-su remained at the machine, agonizing over his options. Mi-na couldn’t figure out what he wanted. Until he pressed the blue button, and up went the score.

Min-su chose the easy route. She hoped he’d choose freely, uninfluenced by Nam-gyu’s snootiness. But she wouldn’t be any better.

The ‘X’s would have welcomed him with open arms. Min-su would fit right in. But the ‘O’s will have to do. They had agreed.

Min-su situated himself to the ‘O’ side, branding his new blue patch but looking no less ashamed.

Not all things seemed to run smoothly after. Again, the strange man-no-it was Player 001 that had to speak out.

“Don’t you see? We need to get out while we still can. Or, there will be no other steps. We have to stop!”

Mi-na had to physically stop herself from groaning. Has a vote ever proceeded without a hitch?

Of course, there was another fight. Similar questions, some tears. Yet Mi-na could counteract them with style. She was set.

“You still want to keep going after all those people died?” More for Mi-na. “Who’s to say you won’t die in the next game?” Why, herself, of course.

And the guards-

Survival often seems routine. Eviction notices were like guns; The only difference is that guns brought a quick end. The money would only keep piling up.

Many came from unfortunate places. Mi-na’s plight paled compared to many others. Many agreed to keep playing. Their pieces on the issue already took on what every blue patch shared. With the money now, it would triple next game. Meaning far more leftovers for people like Mi-na and a higher chance to truly live for people like Thanos.

“It’s not like the games are difficult,” a player said. “Way more than half of us survived. We’ve made it this far, so let’s do this one more time!”

Ddakji. Red Light, Green Light. Spinning top. Games from everyone’s childhood, it wasn’t rocket science.

“Let’s play just one more game!” “Yeah, let’s play one more game!” “One more game! One more game!” Blue Patches chanted ferociously, and the votes came.

‘O’ won in a landslide, 139 to 116. A third game was waiting for them tomorrow.

Mi-na peeled off and stuck the ‘O’ patch for the hundredth time; Her life and a lot of money depended on it. Yet, her focus remained fixed on her tracksuit. The rhythmic hiss of the Velcro side of the patch was a counterpoint to the frantic beat of her heart, a drum solo accompanying her desperate dance with death.

She could relax once the patch was perfectly attached.

Thanos lifted her chin, instantly revealing her predicament. He swayed his arms in jagged swings, launching into a rap:

“It’s you and me together; that’s a given. Standing strong in this madness, we’re winnin’. You voted ‘O’, no doubt, no fear. Together we’re unbreakable, yeah, we’re in the clear.”

He crouched, his movements mimicking a typical R&B music video.

“Bloodstained and lookin’ fine! Now I’m ready for mealtime,” he announced, another serenade — a congratulatory performance for her “correct” choice, the choice *he* wanted her to make. He flaunted himself with the flamboyant energy of a tropical bird.

Mi-na laughed, a genuine laugh that captivated Thanos, as entrancing as everything else she created.

“You liked that one?” he asked.

Mi-na dropped her smile in an instant. He shouldn’t have breached her composure, shattered the carefully constructed façade she maintained.

“I’ve heard a lot worse,” she retorted, though he knew she had enjoyed it.

“I. Am. Hungry,” he announced, patting his stomach, emphasizing each word.

The lights flickered on, signaling lunchtime—perfect timing, considering Thanos’s appetite. Pink-masked soldiers unfolded tables laden with cartons of food.

Thanos twirled, drawing her attention. He seemed full of energy.

“This place sells plenty, but nothing compares to you,” he said, forming a heart with his hands.

“I voted ‘O’,” Mi-na replied, joining the line. “You don’t need to flatter me.”

Thanos followed. “Is that a problem?” he asked. She disliked his intense gaze, as if she were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. A persistent gleam shone through his apparent intoxication—attention solely for her. “..I didn’t say it was,” she mumbled.

Thanos pouted. “You’re sending mixed signals,” he complained. “Do you like me or not?”

This was the last thing she wanted to think about: gruesome murders, easy money, and this bizarre lunch.

Moving up the line, she heard a shout and saw the gap she’d created.

She’d miss this—his dancing, his odd English, his cheesy raps, the unpredictable chaos. Maybe that’s why she wanted to stay.

She turned, their noses nearly touching.

“Maybe I just don’t want to make it easy for you.”

Chapter Text

Dangling from the Pink Soldier’s black glove was the meal of the day. More of a ration in this case.

Concealed in tight plastic was a variant of bread, flat and the size of Mi-na’s hand. Even under the crackly plastic, it was soft. There was a shiny brown glaze that smelled faintly of garlic, and it was enough to make her mouth water.

The milk came in a tiny white and green carton, one that you would give to a preschool kid. The center featured a circle, a triangle, and a square. Much like the shapes all the Pink Soldiers had on their masks, pretty full of themselves, Mi-na thought. She swore she had gotten more food yesterday.

Mi-na took the bread and milk. She wanted to complain, but Thanos’ words still held her captive. Do you like me or not? Why was that question consuming her?

It wasn’t supposed to matter. He was a distraction, a fun distraction. He’d bend over backward to earn her favor, and it was too cute not to play along. She could forget where she was, putting her life on the line. Those ad-lib raps made her forget about the money and realize just how pleasant it was to have company. Yet, it could all be taken away. A different perspective, an uncomfortable quiet, devoid of any rhyme and rhythm. He could hold back his true colors, as though he weren’t vibrant enough. He could falsify his sweetness just to get another number on his register. Or he could die, and she’d still have no answer. Do you like me or not?

“Señorita.”

Her heart leaped, only to realize it wasn’t Thanos, but Min-su. It was odd to hear that from his sweet mouth.

“Excuse me?” She didn’t want to hear that from him again. “It’s Mi-na.”

“O-oh, sorry,” he stammered, “You weren’t coming and...”

She realized everyone had gathered at their usual spot. Min-su was likely to fetch her.

“Lost in thought, I guess,” she said.

“Are you scared?” he blurted out.

She dug her nail into her milk carton. “Scared?” she echoed.

“To play more games,” he said

Understanding dawned, then a pang of sympathy.

“Oh,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I’m not scared. Are you?”

He nodded, hunched, and weak. That pathetic frown, the one he wore when Nam-gyu yelled, tugged at her heart.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ll make me feel bad,” Mi-na said. “You voted to stay, didn’t you?”

She pointed to his patch. “It’s your choice. Own it. That’s all the control we have.”

He managed eye contact for over thirty seconds — it seemed to work. The sad little frown was gone. He didn’t look happy, but at least he didn’t look miserable.

“Okay...” he said.

“Come on,” she guided him toward the stairs. With the survival struggle over, they had little to do but wait out the remaining day.

She sliced the plastic open with her nail and ripped off a piece of bread. She took a bite. As suspected, the bread was soft and savory, its warm, yeasty aroma filling her senses. The thin crust, yielding to the slightest pressure, melted in her mouth, leaving a lingering, nutty flavor that triggered a satisfying rumble in her stomach.

Thanos squeezed between Min-su and Mi-na, ruffling Min-su’s hair.

“Welcome to the ‘O’ Gang, little bro!” Thanos said, clapping him on the back.

Nam-gyu slouched against the stairs with his toothy grin, “About time. What’s one more game, eh?”

One more game.

What if Mi-na finished one more? What then? Would she continue playing?

The longer she sat in this prison-like utopia, the prouder she was of her decision. It was the attraction of greater wealth, mostly from lives she wouldn’t encounter again, that may have been the reason. She wouldn’t bear the responsibility for a husband's or daughter’s absence.

Instead, she could take whatever she desired. Gucci, Prada, retro-jackets, flashy jewelry, trendy trinkets — anything that gave her the illusion of class.

Anyone who died here will only help her achieve that life. The high life. The life she deserved.

So, when Gyeong-su asked another icebreaker, Mi-na knew her answer.

“Shopping spree? That’s it?” Nam-gyu asked.

“I’ll figure it out as I go.” She ate another crumb of bread, chewing slowly.

He rolled his eyes. “Shopping. Shopping. That’s all a woman thinks of.”

“And what would you do with all that money?” She flicked a piece of bread at him, right on the forehead, and he made a funny grunt.

Nam-gyu knocked it away. “Easy. I’d start off by getting—” “Oh, wait, I don’t care. Gyeong-su, what about you?”

Gyeong-su nearly choked on his milk, as if he didn’t expect the question to be thrown back at him.

She knew what the plain guy was trying to do: bring substance to their unending waiting. It wasn’t his intention to be brought out of his dome of quiet, to be prioritized over someone as painstakingly important as Nam-gyu.

But..it was nice.

“I want to debut my first hip-hop album!” He said, “Thanos is amazing at rap, right? Obviously, I wouldn’t be like Thanos, cause you’re already so amazing-” Thanos seemed indifferent, as he always did at the mention of his rap career.

Gyeong-su continued, unfazed by the silence. “I’d call it Gyeong-su: Ode to the newest and oldest generation of hip-hoppers!”

Now that she had gotten Gyeong-su to talk, it was a whole new challenge to make him stop. He went on and on about each song’s concept, mentioning how he’d pay homage to his idols and his philosophical musings. The mirage of a plain, quiet, cheesy fanboy slowly peeled off to reveal his multiple dimensions of self. “I could get, like-LED lights, camera equipment, smoke machines! it’s gonna be so sick!”

Mi-na couldn’t recall being excited over something other than discounts.

“Min-su?” Gyeong-su then said, expectant.
”Yes?”
“You haven’t shared what you would do with all the money.”

“Right,” Min-su paused for a moment, thinking. “I guess I’d.. send money to my mom.”

Mi-na clicked her tongue in delight, as if she knew from the start. “And?” but there was nothing. “That’s not it, is it?” He looked guilty.

“Min-su!” she cried. “You could get anything, and that’s all you want to do?”

“Just to my mom.”

That was his only true confidence; His duty and love for his mother. She must’ve been some angel woman for Min-su to still cling on.

“I’d also find a place for us to stay.” He quickly added.

A word rang in Mi-na’s ears. Homeless. She instantly pictured a grizzled old man, cockroaches clinging to his beard. Musty and decaying in the streets. A crummy loser, not a childish boy pushing thirty.

“You don’t have anywhere to live?” Nam-gyu asked.

Min-su’s ears turned red again. “Rental scam.”

“A rental scam? How does that even happen?”

Min-su shrugged, still trying to play it cool, but Mi-na wasn’t stupid. “I didn’t check the contract properly.”

“How did you not check?” Nam-gyu snorted; It became his job to antagonize the boy. Belittle him with every chance given, and worst of all, Min-su kept letting it happen.

With an arm around Min-su, Thanos came to the rescue. It was like Thanos, popping back into existence when needed most.

“Ayo, people get scammed all the time. We are prime examples of that, Nam-su.”
“Nam-gyu.”
“Whatever. This little boy’s pain gives us another thing to fight for.” He turned to Min-su.

“We play one more game, and you can get you and your mom a super nice house. And I can get my money back.” He pointed to Gyeong-su, “You can get your album.” Finally, to Mi-na, with that familiar warmth. “And you can get your clothes. Alla that and more, whatever you want, girl. Thanos will make sure of that.”

“You would do that for me?” She said. Even now, she couldn't help but perk up. Being spoiled was an exciting thing, no matter how conflicted she felt about him.

He transferred his arm from Min-su to Mi-na. “For you? Anything.”

She let herself believe that because it felt good. He was a master flatterer; She was always susceptible. So, Mi-na put on another of her best smiles, the exact ones she’d practiced in the mirror. He was a fun distraction.

She was positive she saw Nam-gyu grinding his teeth, straining so hard a vein was forming on his temple. Or maybe she imagined it. It looked like he was trying to blow her up with his mind.

Just around the corner from Nam-gyu, the infamous MG Coin walked into view. Beside his number was a red patch. A rare change of vote. That red patch was an insult to everyone who worked so hard to keep going. Any decision guaranteed offense, whether it was to stay or to go. MG Coin would know best.

“That traitor.” Thanos gave out a rumble laced with venom. But acted as though nothing was wrong when Mi-na noticed.

Myung-gi left just as soon as he came and exited through the right-hand door.

“Nature calls.” Thanos downed his milk like a shot glass. With a wave of his hand, he ushered the tagalong team. Nam-gyu and Gyeong-su, his most loyal followers.

MG Coin’s destination was their destination. Knowing the last couple of times they had a “friendly chat,” it ended with a fair share of bruises.

This would be no different.

Chapter Text

With heavy steps and faces lined with frustration, the three men—Thanos, Nam-gyu, and the inscrutable Gyeong-su—returned. Their plans had failed. Once more, they got nowhere with Myung-gi and the hunt for their money.
Besides a scratchy lullaby, the day held no other events. Meaning it had officially been two days since the games began. It was a strange passage of time; both swift and agonizingly slow. Sleep was the best way to spend that time now.
That’s what many fortunate ones did, spared from the blinding golden light or haunted by nightmares too real. Yet somewhere in the catacomb of iron bars and towering beds, someone was fortunate to sleep soundly.

A saw-like sound ignited, emitting unbearable honks that woke Mi-na in the middle of the night. Deep snores showed an elderly man.

So annoying, someone should slit his throat, Mi-na thought. Perhaps people could finally get some decent sleep. She felt a sickening twist in her gut. She sure would slap a bitch, but she wouldn’t kill one.

Given her circumstances, it was hard to ignore such thoughts. Especially given the annoying contestants outside her circle. Talking over each other, speaking nonsense. Wanting to leave, wanting to stay. Complaining. Bitching. Moaning. Why not just slit every throat, then?

Stop. Stop it.

You’re tired, you haven’t had a bath in two days and your stomach hurts. Pettiness isn’t worth a criminal record.

A groan emit from her neighboring bunk, it seemed she wasn’t the only one who woke up from the disturbance. But she discovered her bunk mate was out cold. Even asleep, Thanos couldn’t sit still.
His limbs were in a painfully contorted heap. He was hanging halfway off the bed, his jaw slack, saliva poised to drip out.

Even in his unconscious state, he still looked irritatingly handsome. His face, though angular, appeared gentler, revealing every detail.
Mi-na crawled over and flicked his forehead.

“.. Mm.. Whas’it?” He said, swatting at nothing.

“I can’t sleep,” Mi-na said. “Wanna keep me company?”

His hand searched until it found Mi-na’s arm, which he then tugged. She complied, and he pulled her onto the bed. Snug for two, yet comfortable.

“So bossy.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, sure,” she settled against the white brick, seeking a comfortable place.

Despite being groggy, he held himself up alright. Must be sober, for once. His slouched back didn’t stop him from captivating followers everywhere.
She knew the names of the most popular celebrities, pop artists and the like. Mi-na questioned why such a striking person was unheard of. He was famous, according to Gyeong-su, but the name ‘Thanos’ only rung a bell from the comics.

“How come I’ve never heard of you ‘til now?” Mi-na asked.

“Don’t know. Not that I’m complaining,” He sniffed. “Whenever fans crowd around, it’s like swattin’ away a bunch of birds. Pisses me off.”

“I thought you liked attention,” she mused.

“Nah, I do. Just not from those mindless sheep.” He paused. “You’re different, though. You have some sense.”

Oh, pull it together, Mi-na.

“I’d love to be famous,” Mi-na tossed her hair, like she was posing for photographers. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about, personally.”

“Yeah?” He cracked a laugh. “Okay. Just watch out for the fall. From there it’s not all glitz and glam.”
“I think I can handle it.”

“Ohh, you think so? Well, let me give you some advice, chica.” Thanos propped himself up, now bringing his full attention. “When you’re at the top, people are gonna stop at nothing to tear you down. They’ll make stuff up, twist the truth, then when you slip, it’s all over.”

The smile left her face. It seemed personal. Too personal.

“Is that.. what happened to you?”

Thanos’ smirk wavered then. “You could say that.” He stretched his hand out from the shadows of the bunk, reaching for the golden glow from above.

“Everyone knew who I was, they killed for my raps, loved ‘em.” He said, churning his hand into the light and watching it bounce off his nails.

“At some rapping tournament, I forgot my lyrics. Lost my top spot and came crashing down with it. To top it all off, I bought that crypto.” He said, a grin spreading across his face. His hand retreated into the shadows.

“Got so bad I was going to kill myself. Jump off that bridge, never look back. I had nothing, Mi-na.”
“Oh, shit.”

Drugs, death-defying dance, disregard for health—it was so clear. He didn’t care. There was nothing to care about. He was still so upbeat, life or death, it would be his greatest joy.

The world felt overwhelming and frustrating from every angle, as no amount of effort felt sufficient. It left no victims.

“I had no idea.”

“It’s not good for advertisement, anyway.” He said. “Too busy being the center of attention, right? Doesn’t matter if the rap king got sleazy with the needles or messed up his own song. Always comes the mindless sheep to remind him.”

Comforting words eluded her. This was far more than friendly advice. It was a cry for help, and he confided in her.

“So when I say these games are my last chance,” he said, “I mean it. I’ve got nothing left to lose.”
but.. that wasn’t right.

She crawled onto the cool, smooth linen of the bed. Before Thanos could even question her, the soft weight of her nestled against his chest. Not an embrace, but the gentle pressure of her back against his broad form, her head resting in the warm hollow of his neck. He remained stiff; the bedsheets crisp beneath him.

Only when her stillness became undeniable did his rigid posture soften. He curled a brawny arm around her, his hand resting lightly on her head; a shaky breath escaping his lips, a sigh lost in the quiet room.

Mi-na sensed the trample of his unstable heart, the weight of his hand, and a warmth far sustaining than any silk sheet.

Even asleep, she stayed put. More for his sake, but also for her own. Nightmares of violence and unsettling toys plagued her, yet a comforting touch provided solace.
An old man’s snores became so trivial.

Chapter Text

Amidst the soft trumpets’ beats, the strings of a chorus of violins and cellos bellowed. Though it wasn’t the music that stirred Mi-na back to the fuzzy blur of the world, but the large work lights that changed the room from a soft gold to a stark white and blue. Lights similar to those in the mall, in her old work department. Where she spent the weekdays color-matching, recommending the best blush, and catching pseudo-maturity girls stealing hydrating formula.

But she wasn’t at her morning shift, she wasn’t even in her own bed.

Thanos tightened his hold on Mi-na, pulling her back to the tiny bunk. Back to the games. A potent smell of weed and sweat filled her nostrils, but she’d prefer it to sleeping alone. Especially after last night.

‘The third game will begin momentarily. All players, please get out of bed and get ready.’

She didn’t want to. With Thanos, she slept well; however, bothersome roommates disturbed most of her night. Now she was paying the price. A soft cushioning and an able body tempted her to shut her eyes again.

Thanos awoke long before she did, and it made her wonder if he ever slept at all. He delved into his tracksuit to take another pill, giving her a squeeze. The snap of the metal cross was loud enough to alert a predator.

“Yo, hyung, can I-the fuck?!” Nam-gyu bucked at the sight before him, then shoved Mi-na off the bed. “hyung, can I have one?”

Though the bunk was low, the impact was enough to knock the wind out. Now Mi-na was awake.

“What the hell?!”

“You have your own bunk.” Nam-gyu said, perched right in Mi-na’s place.

“Chill, Nam-su.” Thanos handed Nam-gyu a pill, sending a sympathetic frown her way.

Mi-na sat up. The stinging leaving behind a lingering annoyance. She scowled. What a clingy brat. Probably whined to get a piece of Thanos’ stash until relented. What a pity for Thanos. She couldn’t hold it against him.

Mi-na spotted Min-su peeking between the metal railings. He brightened when Mi-na approached, and her annoyance disbanded.

“Hey.” She greeted the boy. “You didn’t see that and you tell no one, kay?”

“Y—Yes.” He said, nodding in agreement.

“Good.” She glanced back at Nam-gyu and Thanos, who were still busy with whatever they were doing. Chasing the high. She scoffed and shoved her hands into her pockets. “I swear, those two are impossible.”

“Why did you team up with them, then?”

“Oh, it wasn’t by choice.” She laughed. “They glued themselves to me. But it’s fine, they’re fun.. Thanos is, at least.”

“.. You like Thanos?”

“What? As if,” she scoffed, but the crack of softness gave way to the truth..

Min-su nodded again, unconvinced. “Right,”

“You’re awfully cheeky today,” she said, smiling proudly. “Why don’t you put that energy in Nam-gyu?”

“Sorry?” he asked, sputtering at the thought.

“I’m just saying you don’t have to take his crap.” Her expression softened. “I can’t always be there to support you. You’re a grown man, so speak your mind to him now and then, kay?” she said, her finger dabbing his chest. “And stop being such a coward.”

He awkwardly patted his fingers along his legs. “.. I’ll... I’ll try.”

“You’re not as bad as you think you are.”

Min-su smiled, a genuine smile that spread across his face. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” even then, she couldn’t help but smile back.

Soon, all the participants made their climb up the white stairs. This time, Mi-na sought for the geometric walls and circular holes. She wanted to see them again later, should the pastel labyrinth consume her whole. A familiar chill and fear gripped Mi-na with each step. The growling of her stomach joined the thumping of her heart. She was starving. It seemed her stomach was devouring itself, retracting into a space and leaving a disagreeable warmth of hunger.

She touched her hair, playing with her blue braids. The clip-ons were smooth. No flyaways. Her nails were perfect. Her clothes had wrinkles and drying stains. She was still pretty.

Mi-na had it lucky. She had a reliable team with strengths of their own kind. If anyone could get through the next game, it would be all five of them.

Suddenly, a yank on her ponytail made her cry out. Before she could react, someone pulled her into a secluded corner. Terror seized her; she braced herself to scream.

“Don’t.” Nam-gyu latched onto her mouth, his fingers hovering as though touching her was the most disgusting thing in the universe.

Her cry diverted into a whine. “Oh my god, what do you wannnntttuhhh?!”

“We need to talk,” he said, his hand shoved away by Mi-na.

“You’re too high for this,” Mi-na said. Nam-gyu squirmed, his tongue peeking from his cheek, revealing an unconsumed pink pill. Mi-na relented.

“Fine. Talk,”
Nam-gyu sighed, running a hand through his greasy hair, as if bracing himself.

“You and Thanos.”

“What about me and Thanos?”

“You’re wasting your time with him.”

“Um, what? That’s not any of your business. I chose how I spend my time-”

“You think Thanos *really* values you?” he said. “You’re nothing but a fucking tool, a pawn, a pretty face to boost his ego.” Mi-na was used to his insults, but this stung. This wasn’t a spat; it was a power play.

“You think I don’t know that?” she countered, crossing her arms. “We all use each other. It’s survival.”

“But you’re taking it too far,” he said, hands twitching as if ready to strike. Mi-na remained unimpressed.

“Fucking cuddling, and for what-for his favor?”

Mi-na’s jaw clenched, but she stayed cold.

“I don’t have to try, unlike you.”

“Don’t you compare yourself to me, you fucking bitch!”
“You don’t know him like I do!” he then raged, his jaw trembling. “He’ll discard you like trash, but I’ll still be there. Always,” he said, jabbing a finger close to her face.

“Right, because he values you *so* much,” she leaned against the wall, words tumbling out. “You cling to him like a dog, and he still treats me better. Pathetic.” She said, infuriating him. His eyes narrowed, but she wasn’t done.

“Last I checked, tools outlast runts, Nam-su,” she said.

Then came a loud crunch.

She braced for an attack, but nothing came.

“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled, hollow once more. Her words did its damage, but she couldn’t bring herself to be sympathetic.

“Then stop treating me like crap,” she said, “And I might do the same for you.”

But she could keep the peace.

Leaving Nam-gyu chewing up the rest of his happy pill, she stomped upstairs to catch the others.
Was everyone a means to an end? No. If that were true, she wouldn’t harbor such feelings. This group, the money, it was worth the vote.

She soon found the group; purple was easy to spot. All before they reached the next area.

Her heart leapt when Thanos greeted her, filled with that contagious excitement that had been lacking. High as a kite, but no less dull.
Sober or high, she decided she liked him either way.
When he wrapped an arm around her waist, she felt safe again.

Gyeong-su’s quiet greeting was also a pleasant addition. Nan-gyu would later arrive out of breath, and it amused her to know she had bested him in another thing.

Four pink soldiers, the ones guiding the participants, came to a halt. Now, instead of a door, there were large white curtains. They drew open mechanically, revealing the third arena.

‘Welcome to your third game.’

An orange and white tent clung to the top of the ceiling, reaching high above. Along the walls were a myriad of doors in every color of the rainbow. Above them were lavish spotlights and dainty pink bows.
A sizable orange platform occupied the room. In the middle were plastic rides stripped from a carousel, with orange bows placed right above the golden rods impaling them. Three white horses.

Her horses.

Chapter Text

Daddy wasn’t smart, but he always said that you didn't need a big brain to wear a hard hat. The smaller the head, the easier to wear, he would argue, always chose a briefcase instead. Mi-na would giggle, calling him silly, and he would tussle her hair. Daddy worked a lot, sometimes miss dinner. Mi-na didn't always mind, because that meant she could spend more time with Mommy.

‘The game you will be playing is Mingle.’

When it was dark and Daddy’s one working headlight still didn’t pull up, the two ladies of the house reigned supreme. Snuggled on the couch, they would stream K-dramas, some too mature for Mi-na. All the while, her mommy would braid her hair and point to every actress on the screen. She is beautiful, she would say, but my daughter exceeds in every way.

Her mommy had a magnificent touch on every person she met. Heads would turn, people would smile, only to shrivel later. Everyone was below her except for Mi-na, her most treasured girl. She’d coat minor scrapes with concealer, kiss her cute little cheeks, and dress Mi-na as though she were her own personal doll.

One night, her daddy came home with a special paper. It had a bunch of money, more than usual. So what better than to spend it on their daughter?

For Mi-na’s eighth birthday, the Kang family went to the amusement park. There was nothing like it; a stimulating world of catchy music and rides bound to touch the moon. But the carousel was her favorite. There were several gorgeous horses, painted gold, bronze, and neon. Naturally, she loved the pink, sparkly one the most. So that was what she picked.

Her daddy scooped her up and onto the mare. Her mommy would watch from afar, snapping pictures with her camera. (A beautiful lady must look her best, after all)

The carousel would start its steady function, teetering up and down. Going up was the best part. Her stomach flutter, as if she had lost connection to both the ground and the sky. Just like soaring high on swings, where she could simply be. This was more than just a ride. Laughter would escape her. It was so easy. Money was miles away.

‘Let me repeat. The game you will be playing is Mingle.’

Slumber parties, warm summers, glitter pens and jump rope. It was a miraculous, irreplaceable joy. She realized how important such simple things were until she lost them. Eight now seemed closer than thirty.

‘All players, please step onto the centered platform.’

Picture books would soon become long rows of text, playtime sold to studies. From five in the morning to eleven at night, she belonged to the system. Subpar grades were the norm; a D was a miracle. She despised those who were quick learners. Those who didn’t need to study to pass. The upper-classman most of all, who called her name and punished her all because she wanted to look cute. She couldn’t succeed and she couldn’t be beautiful.

Were these not the happiest moments of her life?

When the results came in, it was a greater blow for her parents. Even if she was the one who took the exam. Each smile and conversation strained, as though they were trying to hide the shame. Her mother’s constant praise–“such a pretty child”–rang false, the encouraging tussles worthless.

As a child, letters and numbers were all she needed to know.

Nothing could mask the crumpled tissues, the shouting sessions behind closed doors. Sometimes she would catch her father in prayer. He would call upon the gods of heaven and earth for a brighter future, a future beyond their reach. Pray that Mi-na would be in a better position than he ever was: smarter than him, kinder than her mother. But how could she achieve that if she couldn’t even get into high school?

After all, they should have known better than to raise a child when they were hardly successful themselves. She was always their gateway ticket to a grander life, but she couldn’t get half as close to where they skimmed. She was too much like her parents, and it held her back.

‘When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number.’

The hardest part was over. In her eyes, she had lost her parents, and she could mask the anger with a heavy dose of perfume. Rewards of the finest pleasure would only prosper. Partying, attending concerts, shopping, karaoke. Waking up, god knows where doing god knows what. All to reclaim lost years and fleeting youth.

Her friends were just shallow women, convenient connections, and carbon copies not set in stone. Compared to the little girls who swore they would be friends forever. Now they were all off letting a boy ruin their lives, drinking at the expense of a shrubby liver, blasting any conscious thought with speakers. However, the world always came back.

‘You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the doors within 30 seconds.’

Even if she failed it.

But she didn’t need help, because she had all that she needed. A genuine passion, an eye for all things aesthetically pleasing. She could handle the insurance shit by herself: taxes, mortgage, and all the adult crap that was thrown onto her. It was like horseplay. She could go off and treat herself to her own rewards. Take out another loan. Cash in another check. Brush off the emails and phone-calls.

Success didn't require attending a prestigious college or spending life in a dull office.
This was the best time of her life, and she made it so.

‘Let the game begin.’

Mi-na returned to the spinning platform; after all, she never left. The carousel stopped working a long time ago, yet the horses still followed. Even when her shoes were now too small.

The lights remained bright, and the music stayed cheerful. Her horses, although not pink and sparkly, were radiant as can be.

That eight-year-old girl wanted to go on one last ride, and that was exactly what Mi-na would give her.

Chapter Text

Daddy wasn’t smart, but he always said that you didn't need a big brain to wear a hard hat. The smaller the head, the easier to wear, he would argue, always chose a briefcase instead. Mi-na would giggle, calling him silly, and he would tussle her hair. Daddy worked a lot, sometimes miss dinner. Mi-na didn't always mind, because that meant she could spend more time with Mommy.

‘The game you will be playing is Mingle.’

When it was dark and Daddy’s one working headlight still didn’t pull up, the two ladies of the house reigned supreme.

Snuggled on the couch, they would stream K-dramas, some too mature for Mi-na. All the while, her mommy would braid her hair and point to every actress on the screen. She is beautiful, she would say, but my daughter exceeds in every way

Her mommy had a magnificent touch on every person she met. Heads would turn, people would smile, only to shrivel later. Everyone was below her except for Mi-na, her most treasured girl. She’d coat minor scrapes with concealer, kiss her cute little cheeks, and dress Mi-na as though she were her own personal doll.

One night, her daddy came home with a special paper. It had a bunch of money, more than usual. So what better than to spend it on their daughter?

For Mi-na’s eighth birthday, the Kang family went to the amusement park. There was nothing like it; a stimulating world of catchy music and rides bound to touch the moon. But the carousel was her favorite.

There were several gorgeous horses, painted gold, bronze, and neon. Naturally, she loved the pink, sparkly one the most. So that was what she picked.

Her daddy scooped her up and onto the mare. Her mommy would watch from afar, snapping pictures with her camera. (A beautiful lady must look her best, after all)

The carousel would start its steady function, teetering up and down. Going up was the best part. Her stomach flutter, as if she had lost connection to both the ground and the sky. Just like soaring high on swings, where she could simply be. This was more than just a ride. Laughter would escape her. It was so easy.

Money was miles away.

‘Let me repeat. The game you will be playing is Mingle.’

Slumber parties, warm summers, glitter pens and jump rope. It was a miraculous, irreplaceable joy. She realized how important such simple things were until she lost them.

Eight now seemed closer than thirty.

‘All players, please step onto the centered platform.’

Picture books would soon become long rows of text, playtime sold to studies. From five in the morning to eleven at night, she belonged to the system. Subpar grades were the norm; a D was a miracle.

She despised those who were quick learners. Those who didn’t need to study to pass. The upper-classman most of all, who called her name and punished her all because she wanted to look cute. She couldn’t succeed and she couldn’t be beautiful.

Were these not the happiest moments of her life?

When the results came in, it was a greater blow for her parents. Even if she was the one who took the exam.

Each smile and conversation strained, as though they were trying to hide the shame. Her mother’s constant praise–“such a pretty child”–rang false, the encouraging tussles worthless.

As a child, letters and numbers were all she needed to know.

Nothing could mask the crumpled tissues, the shouting sessions behind closed doors. Sometimes she would catch her father in prayer. He would call upon the gods of heaven and earth for a brighter future, a future beyond their reach. Pray that Mi-na would be in a better position than he ever was: smarter than him, kinder than her mother.

But how could she achieve that if she couldn’t even get into high school? After all, they should have known better than to raise a child when they were hardly successful themselves. She was always their gateway ticket to a grander life, but she couldn’t get half as close to where they skimmed.

She was too much like her parents, and it held her back.

‘When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number.’

The hardest part was over. In her eyes, she had lost her parents, and she could mask the anger with a heavy dose of perfume.

Rewards of the finest pleasure would only prosper.

Partying, attending concerts, shopping, karaoke. Waking up, god knows where doing god knows what. All to reclaim lost years and fleeting youth.

Her friends were just shallow women, convenient connections, and carbon copies not set in stone. Compared to the little girls who swore they would be friends forever. Now they were all off letting a boy ruin their lives, drinking at the expense of a shrubby liver, blasting any conscious thought with speakers.

However, the world always came back.

‘You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the doors within 30 seconds.’

Even if she failed it.

But she didn’t need help, because she had all that she needed. A genuine passion, an eye for all things aesthetically pleasing. She could handle the insurance shit by herself: taxes, mortgage, and all the adult crap that was thrown onto her. It was like horseplay. She could go off and treat herself to her own rewards. Take out another loan. Cash in another check. Brush off the emails and phone-calls.

Success didn't require attending a prestigious college or spending life in a dull office.

This was the best time of her life, and she made it so.

‘Let the game begin.’

Mi-na returned to the spinning platform; after all, she never left.

The carousel stopped working a long time ago, yet the horses still followed. Even when her shoes were now too small.

The lights remained bright, and the music stayed cheerful. Her horses, although not pink and sparkly, were radiant as can be.

That eight-year-old girl wanted to go on one last ride,

and that was exactly what Mi-na would give her.

Chapter Text

‘Let the game begin.’

The platform steadily rotated, unsteady from shifting weight. There were voices of young children, followed by a xylophone:

Round and round we go.

Round and round we go.

Let’s go around in circles and dance.

We will clap our hands and sing

La la la la, let’s have fun dancing.

Ring-a, ring-a, ring! Ring-a, ring-a ring!

Ring-a, ring-a, ring! Ring-a, ring-a ring!

Hold your hands together, and all together

Let’s run happily

An otherworldly experience with an old song to capture the soul. Those who journeyed through the surreal world wanted one thing: to avoid the trimming of fat.

She had everything but a reason to die. His awareness of her desire was total or nonexistent.

Thanos could be as ridiculous as he wanted, whirl invisible lassos and party until the high took flight. As long as both lived.

The platform lurched to a halt. Mi-na couldn’t steady herself when the first number was called.

‘Ten.’

The arena became a scrambling hysteria within the millisecond. Swirling berry hues, a ticking timer, and a clutter of grasping hands tugging and pulling. Players bunched together, calling out numbers and searching for groups. Urgent action was required; survival depended on it. Or else no doors would remain.

“Over there!” Mi-na said. She had spotted a smaller group huddled towards the center of the platform. Two men and three women.

Thanos smacked his hands together, showing off all five fingers. “We got FIVE! LETS GO!” Thanos said, and took off running. No one followed.

Mi-na winced before flagging them over. Only then did she get their attention.

They waddled off the platform, a clumsy group needing to stay close, though they couldn’t move any slower. The lights flickered urgently. Majority of the contestants were already in rooms.

Mi-na broke from the frantic bodies, moving to the sidelines as if she were a sheepdog guiding its flock. Gyeong-su waved her down, having found a yellow room. An empty one. They needed this flock to survive.

Everyone squished in. Though small, it fit perfectly. Min-su counted under his breath.

“Ten people, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Min-su said.

Only after Nam-gyu closed the door could Mi-na breathe.

It felt as if a protective dome enclosed her, shielding her from harm. The timer sounded off, one so loud it made her ears ring long after. A conjoined snap, and every lock in the area was severed tight. The door held a mail-slot sized opening, displaying the carnage outside.

Guards stormed the area; screams pierced the air. Some even tried to run, but met a sickening thud as bullets pierced through the flesh. The pink soldiers remained impassive, as if deaf to the desperate pleas.

Mi-na ran her hands through her hair, bending the clip-ones tighter into her scalp. Untangling the knots and worries that dared to entwine. This was what she wanted.

The games had just begun, desperation delicious and anticipation high.

‘The following players have been eliminated: Player 013, 043, 049…’

She drowned out the numbers. They weren’t hers or anyone else’s she knew. With every loser laid to rest, it meant another roll of money would soon wait for them. Is it bad to want more?

“We made it!” Thanos shrieked in celebration, punching Nam-gyu, who jerked around playfully.

Gyeong-su piped up, “Yeah, that was so cool, we were like this close-” “Min-su, my boy, how you feeling?”

Min-su let himself get teetered off by Thanos’ brutish arm wrap. More so like a chokehold. “Go-Good.” He said.

Thanos slapped him on the back and laughed. “Hell yeah, didn’t I say this was going to be fun?”

“Yeah.” Nam-gyu said.

Time dragged there. Between peeks, Mi-na saw a forklift packed high with coffins. The guards took their sweet time, placing each eliminated player inside.

Autonomy shredded into paper.

Mi-na and the others disregarded the other five present. They did their part, and they didn’t seem too keen on leaving their circle, anyway. They were exchanging hushed whispers. Whatever it was they were speaking of, it was likely nothing good. Maybe they were gossiping about the kids’ wild behavior, or something completely different. Probably the games.

Mi-na reattached a clip-on.

She’ll win. They’ll all win.

Finally, the door unlocked, and they were free to step out again. The arena appeared identical to its initial state, showing only prior elimination evidence. Only blood remained on the marble floor. There was even a splash of thick red dripping down a wall, sloppy handprints illustrating a gory struggle.

‘All players please return to the platform,’ so that the song can begin again.

Thanos and Nam-gyu twirled around merrily at the song. Moving their hands as though fixing a lightbulb, or ringing a bell. Oblivious to the stakes as they chased their sobriety into a ditch.

Mi-na smiled. Everyone around them just looked confused. She could reprieve herself briefly at the stupid dance.

It was short-lived when the platform halted mid-chorus.

‘Four.’

A number that hung over their heads, and shielded the mania surrounding them.

Thanos took to the highest position, scanning them all. His bloodshot eyes wavered between Gyeong-su and Min-su. A flicker of dilation that hadn’t arisen since the start.

“Please.” Gyeong-su said with a tremor in his hopeful grin.

“Gyeong-su,” Thanos said, pointing to him.

“You! Out!” And kicked him hard in the gut.

Chapter Text

Everything happened so fast. One moment they were all together, the next, they were taking off and leaving what they had behind.

“Wait, Gyeong-su!” Min-su called out, reluctant both to leave and to be alone. Mi-na made sure he stayed close. They prioritized reaching their destination, hoping Gyeong-su did similarly.

Thanos and Nam-gyu didn’t care. They laughed as though it were all a childish prank. Thanos opened the nearest door, one that was the color of pickled beets.

Everyone flooded inside, closing the door as soon as the last person shuffled in. A quick glance at the timer and there were fifteen seconds remaining. There was still a chance.

Thanos clutched his chest, letting out excited whoops between breaths. Nam-gyu dived to the slot, eager to witness the commotion. Min-su stood beside him, a hand hovering over his back.

“Hey Nam-gyu, did you see what happened to Gyeong-su?”

A single glance, and Nam-gyu hit him in the chest. The snap of his wrist made Min-su wince.

“Min-su, you fucker,” he said. “Talk to me like I’m your friend again, and I’ll leave you out there next time.”

Min-su’s face scrunched up, as if angry, before drooping in defeat.

The timer was in its single digits now, every final number spelled out from the PA. A final countdown before the curtains closed.

Five. Four.

Please, let Gyeong-su find another group in time. Another room.

Three.

Don’t just lay there, Gyeong-su. Say that you tried.

Two.

So many survivors remained. Someone had to need him.

One.

Anyone.

A click, and the lock bolted tight.

“Wait!” Thanos said, with a sudden flash of sobriety. “Where did you leave my boy, Gyeong-su?”

The cries began again, this time with greater intensity. Shots so loud they were headache-inducing. Everyone cowered at the sound, but Thanos stood with his hands to his temples.

“Fuck!” Thanos shoved Nam-gyu out of the way and dug his fingers through the slot. “GYEONG-SUUU!!!” It was a cry of genuine despair, but the blaring of losers rendered him insignificant. Only his eyes bared witness to the gore and the answers to their anxieties. Panicked shouts and bloodshed doubled, specks of blood even shooting through the door and dissolving with the colors.

Mi-na could never adapt to it.

Until the last gunshot rang, they could find peace in their safety.

Numbers were called with a list that stretched to infinity. But Mi-na kept track this time.

‘..176, 179, 238,’

A number amongst the fresh corpses caused a chill to sweep over her sweating, aching, and starving form.

256.

Went and passed like any other number, but God, it was his. Gyeong-su. Now there was no doubt about it. He was gone. A concluding, though devastating, closure.

Mi-na pictured Gyeong-su in his last moments: cornered into a wall, or pushed up right where they left him. The guard to kill him let him fall, witness his fear, and even say goodbye before he died screaming. Punched in by lightening-fast metal, his smile eviscerated. A fresh coat of blood to decorate the ground.

And Thanos dared to put their fellow man through it all.

“Why did you do that?” Mi-na asked him, but nothing reached him, not with his buzzing brain.

“Gyeong-su..” Thanos said mournfully. “Gyeong-su, my boy, what’d they do?” he shook the door, frustrations so genuine it was easy to forget the rooting cause.

The awful taste remaining confirmed her suspicions; it proved too good to be true. She considered them all exceptions to the ruthless ways of the ‘Thanos World’. But they could be victims too.

After the forklifts removed everyone, the five-.. the four made their way to the platform.

A dark puddle, shaped like a corpse, lay beneath their feet. One look, and Mi-na knew that was where Gyeong-su died. It was like a shadow that lingered long after its source left. Many splotches shimmered, reflecting pink and orange light as the platform spun again.

Thanos twirled about to the beat of the music, jerking his head and tracking red footprints all around. Twisting a recent memory, and in case the numbers were low once more, a delayed sacrifice.

Before the first full rotation, a number was called that made Mi-na curse under her breath.

‘Three,’

Not even a couple rounds in, and they were back in the same predicament.

“Who should we take?” Nam-gyu asked, looking between Mi-na and Min-su.

“Let’s Rock, paper, scissors!” Thanos said. “Rock, paper, scissors!”

“What?!” Mi-na said “No! Just split up-” She wouldn’t settle for being an option; two losses within a single day were unacceptable. But the effort was fruitless, they were moving too fast. Talking too loud.

They shrieked with syncopated pressure on the two. “Winner comes with us! Rock, paper, scissors!”

Mi-na let out a sigh. “This is stupid. Min-su, let’s go.”

“Oo! Min-su threw scissors!”

She froze up, and when she looked down at his hand, it was true. Two fingers pointed like blades and were ready to cut. He looked startled, as though his own actions had taken him aback. A vein throbbed in her temple as the wrinkle on her forehead became a rigid, angry slash. This was him taking the initiative?

He opened his mouth, but before anything could come out, Thanos had already grabbed his arm.

“Min-su, you win!” They were going to leave her.

After every rational lead, encouraging word, yet they take the boy that gave them nothing but a ghostly shell. Every ounce of warmth, fondness meticulously constructed, grounded to dust. Anyone could die, but she refused to become one of them. Especially to someone she let into her life.

She wouldn’t turn out like Gyeong-su, not while she was breathing. No, no. She planned to remain on that show until the end.

Mi-na seized Thanos’ arm, and the force of her movement sent her into Min-su. He lost his grip, yelping that wimpy high-pitch.

That made her heart wither.

She was being selfish, a sore loser. She knew that. It was more painful to be seen as worthless by someone who could see her value, even through glassed eyes.

“Find a group, Min-su!” she suddenly called to the boy. Min-su disappeared within the throng; that’s the last she saw.

“Ayo, Min-su! We made it!” Thanos said, closing the door shut. Once he turned; excitement faded. “You’re not Min-su,” Thanos said. “Where’s my little boy?”

“I took his place,” she said. Thanos’ jaw dropped. He blinked, then leaned in close.

“You WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!” he shrieked, spraying spittle on her face. She winced, more at the saliva than his anger. Crossing her arms, she wouldn’t flinch.

“I took his place.”

Nam-gyu chuckled. “Wow, Mi-na! You’re cold,” he said, teeth showing through. He was relishing the drama.

Thanos ignored him, tugging at his hair. “Why?”

“Are you serious?” she said, incredulous. “So it’s fine when you do it, but when it’s me, I’m the problem?”

“Answer me.”

“Uhm, because I don't want to die!?” she snapped. “You didn’t even bother to save me!”

Thanos clenched his teeth. “Don’t play the martyr. I wanted you.”

“Then why did you leave me?” she cried.

Thanos paused. His look of fury faltered; he seemed at a loss, unsure even of himself. Until finally, he spoke.

“I didn’t want to choose.”

And then the guns fired.