The road outside remained silent long enough that even the smallest sound became noticeable.

At first there was nothing—only dry wind moving dust across cracked asphalt, broken signboards leaning sideways, and sunlight pressing hard over the abandoned city.

Then footsteps began to echo somewhere farther down the street.

Not loud.

But enough.

Tyler immediately moved toward the side wall near the broken entrance and leaned carefully just enough to look outside without exposing himself fully.

Above him, on the top of a half-collapsed wooden watch post attached to the neighboring structure, Tansy had already taken position.

She crouched low, scanning the road from above.

A second later she looked down and signaled.

No immediate visual threat yet.

Tyler raised one hand behind him and motioned forward.

Rose and the old man followed without argument.

The old man—Rudd—moved slower than the others, but his footing remained steady despite age.

They crossed the road quickly.

By now the heat had become impossible to ignore.

Even Tyler felt sweat along his neck.

Rose looked worse.

Her forehead glistened openly, and even Tansy, after climbing down from above, wiped her wrist once against her sleeve.

Rudd breathed heavier too.

The air itself felt strange here—hot enough to exhaust, yet still carrying occasional dry wind that offered almost no relief.

Even with the breeze, heat stayed trapped against skin like invisible pressure.

"I feel thirsty," Rose said at last, her voice losing some of its earlier energy.

Tyler looked at the empty bottles they still carried.

In the previous building they had searched thoroughly, but not a single usable water source had been found.

That meant either resources were unevenly distributed—or the game expected movement.

He pointed ahead.

"Let’s try that house."

Unlike the previous damaged structures, this one looked almost intact.

Its windows were cracked but mostly whole. The front door still hung properly, and even the roof showed less collapse.

That alone made Tyler cautious.

But intact buildings also meant better chance of supplies.

He entered first.

The others followed after brief hesitation.

A few seconds later Tansy came in last and shut the door quietly behind them.

Inside, the house felt unsettlingly normal.

Furniture still stood in place.

A sofa.

Dining table.

Shelves.

Even lights remained fixed to the ceiling, though none were active.

But there were no visible supply crates.

No weapons.

No obvious game markers.

Tyler moved straight toward the kitchen area and tested the sink.

The tap turned.

Water flowed.

Rose’s eyes lit up instantly.

For a moment she looked genuinely like someone crossing desert and suddenly finding life.

Tyler placed the empty bottles beside her.

"Drink first. Then fill them."

Rose nodded immediately.

But instead of using her hands properly, she bent straight under the tap and drank directly like someone afraid the water might stop.

Tansy sighed at the sight but said nothing.

Rudd lowered himself carefully onto the nearby couch.

His body clearly appreciated sitting more than he admitted.

Tyler left them there and headed upstairs.

If this house had hidden supplies, upper floors were likely better.

Tansy noticed immediately and after a brief pause followed him.

The stairs creaked lightly but held.

Upstairs, Tyler opened the first room.

Childish drawings covered part of the wall.

Small scattered toys.

Crayons.

Paper sheets still lying across the floor.

"It was a child’s room," Tansy said from behind him.

Tyler nodded slowly while scanning corners.

Nothing dangerous.

Nothing useful yet.

Then he spoke quietly:

"We still haven’t seen another team."

Tansy leaned against the door frame slightly.

"You’re wondering whether staying hidden here works."

Tyler glanced sideways.

"Until the game ends."

She gave a small laugh.

"No chance."

Then her expression sharpened.

"This game is never that kind."

Tyler already knew she was right.

The Capital never designed endings that rewarded stillness.

They searched two more rooms.

Still little.

Below them, silence remained.

Then downstairs—

Rudd, sitting on the couch, had slowly drifted asleep.

His breathing deepened.

Rose, carrying filled bottles, noticed first as she walked past.

She stopped.

Looked at him.

Then slowly smiled.

A very dangerous smile.

The kind Tyler would have immediately distrusted.

Rose looked upstairs once.

Then quietly climbed again.

In the child’s room she found crayons still scattered on the floor.

She took several and hurried back down.

A few minutes later—

Rudd opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was Tyler, Tansy, and Rose standing near him.

All three looking strangely serious.

Too serious.

Then, almost together, Tyler and Tansy looked away.

Rose turned too—but far too late, because her shoulders were already shaking.

Trying not to laugh.

Rudd narrowed his eyes.

Then said calmly:

"I know that look."

Rose bit her lip immediately.

Rudd sat up fully.

"That is exactly how my granddaughter looked every time she did something naughty."

Rose failed completely and laughed.

"Sorry, Grandpa Rudd..."

She stuck out her tongue.

"I drew on your face."

Rudd blinked once.

Then stood and walked toward the bathroom.

The others followed halfway, already knowing.

A moment later he looked into the mirror.

Crayon marks covered one cheek, part of his forehead, and even one eyebrow had been thickened absurdly.

For one second silence remained.

Then Rudd laughed.

A full laugh.

Warm enough that even the empty house felt less dead.

Tyler smiled faintly.

Tansy also softened hearing it.

Because for a brief moment, the final game stopped feeling like death.

Then—

Something shattered outside.

A loud impact.

Glass breaking.

Metal striking road.

Every smile disappeared instantly.

Tyler’s eyes sharpened at once.

His hand moved to the handgun immediately.

Tansy reacted just as fast.

She looked at Rose.

"Stay with Grandpa Rudd."

Then she moved upstairs again, already heading for high ground.

Tyler stepped toward the front window and carefully angled himself to look outside.

Gun ready.

Breathing slowed.

The road that had seemed empty moments earlier no longer felt empty at all.

Tyler kept his gun raised and watched the street carefully.

At first he saw only movement.

A shifting shadow crossing the road between two abandoned vehicles.

Then the shape became clear.

A dog.

No—

A robotic dog.

Its metallic body reflected sunlight in hard silver edges, each movement unnaturally precise yet disturbingly similar to a real animal. Four mechanical legs touched the ground without sound, while its head lowered and lifted in short searching motions as though sniffing the air exactly like a trained hunting dog.

Its eyes glowed in alternating colors—one red, one blue.

Small pulses of light moved through its neck joints and along the spine.

A patrol machine.

Tyler exhaled slowly.

Relief came first.

Because for a brief second he had feared another team had already located them, and with their current equipment that would have forced immediate confrontation before they were ready.

Against one machine, the situation looked manageable.

He leaned slightly and studied it more carefully.

The robotic dog moved slowly, nose-like sensor close to the road, scanning debris, stopping near corners, then continuing again. Whatever system guided it was clearly searching for heat, scent, or movement.

Above him, Tansy remained on upper-floor watch.

But suddenly her expression changed.

Her eyes widened sharply.

Not because of the robot dog.

Because she had seen something Tyler could not from his angle.

She immediately crouched lower, backed away from the window, and ran downstairs without hesitation.

Tyler still watched the machine.

The robotic dog paused.

Its head tilted slightly toward the house.

The red-blue eyes brightened.

"Tyler," Tansy said the moment she reached the lower floor, voice lower but urgent.

"They’re coming."

Before Tyler could even turn fully toward her, the robotic dog reacted.

Its head snapped upward suddenly.

Then something flew.

A long metal object cut through the air with terrifying speed.

It came so fast Tyler barely registered shape before impact.

A lamp post.

One of the street light poles.

Thrown like a spear.

The metal rod pierced downward through the robotic dog with crushing force, smashing straight through its body and pinning it into the road.

The machine convulsed once.

Then sparks burst from its frame.

The lamp post remained upright like a giant spear embedded into the street.

Tyler stared for half a second.

Because no ordinary human had thrown that.

"What exactly is that?" he asked while already shifting position.

Tansy answered by pointing upward.

Tyler followed her direction.

And saw them.

Figures stood on top of the nearby buildings.

Huge.

Dark shapes first.

Then clearer.

Gorillas.

But not ordinary gorillas.

Each one was larger than a human by far—massive shoulders, thick arms, black metallic-looking fur in certain areas as if armor plates had fused into muscle. Their bodies crouched low across rooftops with unnatural stillness, watching below with glowing eyes similar to the robotic dog’s.

Some gripped broken concrete.

One stood near the edge of a roof, chest rising slowly like a machine designed to imitate breathing.

They were gigantic enough that even from distance their weight visibly cracked rooftop edges.

Old man Rudd arrived beside them just then, staff already in hand.

Rose came right behind him.

The moment both saw the rooftop figures, they froze.

Even Rose lost her usual expression instantly.

One gorilla shifted.

Another climbed down part of a wall using one hand alone.

Tyler counted quickly.

At least five visible.

Possibly more hidden.

The destroyed robot dog now made sense.

It had not found them first.

It had entered another predator’s zone.

"Looks like," Tyler said quietly while tightening his grip on the handgun, "other teams aren’t the only obstacles here."

No one argued.

Because the Capital would never design a final battlefield with only human threats.

That would have been too simple.

And simplicity had never belonged to these games.

One gorilla let out a low mechanical growl.

The sound rolled through the street like metal grinding inside a beast’s throat.

Tyler exhaled once.

"As expected," he muttered.

"Capital Games."