Tyler kept staring at the fallen remains of the earlier mechanical ape while the others adjusted the launcher.

Something about the fight had been bothering him from the beginning.

The handgun had barely mattered. Bullets struck, sparks flew, outer skin tore slightly, but none of it truly stopped them unless a weak point was exposed first.

He replayed the earlier scene in his head—the accidental collision when one ape’s punch had landed on another.

That single strike had done more damage than several shots combined.

"The guns barely hurt them," Tyler said, still watching the broken metal parts scattered near the street.

Tansy, who was helping steady the launcher frame, looked at him.

"Their outer skin is too rough," Tyler continued. "The bullets scratch them, but they don’t go deep enough."

Then his eyes sharpened.

"But when that ape punched another one..."

He paused.

Tansy immediately understood where his thoughts were going.

"The ape can destroy another ape easily," she said.

Tyler nodded.

That was the answer.

Their own weapons lacked force.

But the machines themselves were built strong enough to damage each other.

That was why he had chosen the severed arm.

The giant black mechanical limb was dragged across the floor with effort. Even detached, it remained absurdly heavy, synthetic fur covering most of it while exposed metal and torn wiring hung from the ripped shoulder joint.

Rose and old man Rudd helped lift it while Tyler adjusted the angle of the launcher.

The ballista-like machine groaned under the weight.

Tansy locked the tension arms.

Outside, the final ape was already charging again, impatient and violent after losing the others.

Its footsteps hammered the street, louder now because it was no longer searching carefully—it was simply rushing toward movement and sound.

The shadow crossed the garage entrance.

Tyler narrowed his eyes.

"Now."

The launcher released with a violent metallic crack.

The severed ape arm shot forward like a massive black spear.

The force behind it was enough to shake the entire machine backward.

The charging mechanical ape had no time to react.

The giant arm struck its head directly.

Not just hit—

It tore through.

The impact punched through the face and upper skull with crushing force, ripping half the head away instantly. Metal fragments exploded outward. Synthetic fur burned at the edges. Circuits, sparks, and broken mechanical parts scattered across the road.

For half a second the giant body remained standing without its head.

Then it collapsed.

The fall hit the ground with a thunderous crash.

The road trembled.

Dust rose around the corpse.

Silence followed.

Rose let out a long breath and almost laughed from relief.

"Phew... We did it!"

Even Tyler finally relaxed enough to lower his shoulders.

The tension left everyone at once.

Old man Rudd leaned against the launcher.

Tansy sat down first.

Tyler dropped to the floor beside the wall and stretched one leg out.

"Let’s rest for a minute," he said.

No one argued.

The exhaustion had caught up immediately now that danger paused.

But while the others focused on breathing, none of them noticed what Tyler hid carefully.

Under his trouser leg, a deep tear ran along the side of his calf where metal had sliced earlier during the alley fight. Blood had already soaked part of the fabric.

Tyler quietly reached inside his sleeve.

A silver injection appeared between his fingers.

He pressed it into the wound and released the contents.

The liquid spread instantly.

Within seconds the torn flesh closed, the bleeding stopped, and only damaged cloth remained as proof anything had happened.

He lowered the empty injector before anyone noticed.

┉┈ ◈ ◉ ◈ ┈┉

Far away, inside the Capital, another kind of tension was building.

Deep within one of the secured military bases, high above the city’s lower sectors and beneath reinforced command halls, senior officers had already gathered.

At the center sat Chief Rudes, commander of the Capital military forces.

He controlled every formal army unit stationed around the Capital.

If rebellion rose openly, his forces moved first.

He answered only to the First Citizen.

A projection table glowed before him, displaying reports and movement maps.

One officer in white military attire spoke first, unable to hide concern.

"But we’re no longer in a position to remain calm. According to our spies, the rebels are already moving. It seems they intend to attack during the Capital Games."

Another officer immediately responded with visible frustration.

"Why would the rebels attack now? The Capital is the last stronghold of humanity. They should stand with us if they truly care about survival."

A third officer gave a dry laugh.

"Stand with us? You mean let them into the Capital?"

His tone sharpened with contempt.

"No chance. Those lowly sector lives should already be grateful we even tolerate them existing outside. They should be grateful that we are Even talking about them inside the Captial."

"hahaha.."

The second officer laughed and he looked ready to argue again.

But Chief Rudes finally lifted his head.

That alone silenced the room.

"Enough."

His voice was not loud.

It did not need to be.

The officers immediately shut their mouths.

Rudes studied the reports for another second before speaking.

"If they are moving now, then fortify every entrance immediately."

His fingers touched the projection, expanding defense layers around the Capital.

"Deploy surveillance drones across all outer sectors."

Then he leaned back slightly, eyes turning colder.

"If the Embers come..."

A faint murderous calm entered his expression.

"I’ll blow them into smoke."

┉┈ ◈ ◉ ◈ ┈┉

Back in the final game,

Craig stood in the middle of a broken road with both hands raised, breathing hard, looking directly at the person in front of him.

"Don’t kill me... We know each other from the previous round, remember?"

His voice carried genuine fear now.

He had not joined Tyler’s side when teams were formed. Instead, he had chosen another group the moment he thought they looked stronger. There had even been a woman in that team, which at the time made it feel balanced enough to survive.

He had rejected Tyler’s offer without hesitation.

Now, standing under a ruined streetlight with a gun aimed at him, Craig suddenly felt how wrong that choice had been.

Bang.

The shot echoed through the street. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Craig’s body jerked once.

A clean hole opened in the center of his forehead.

For a moment he remained standing, his face frozen with pleading regret, then dropped backward onto the road.

Victor lowered the gun slowly.

"I’m sorry," he said under his breath.

One of the men beside him immediately answered.

"Don’t be."

Six figures stepped out from cover around him.

Victor’s team.

The difference between them and ordinary survivors was obvious. Their movements were disciplined, coordinated, and almost emotionless.

That came mostly from the two men from Sector 7.

Everything about them carried military habit—posture, scanning patterns, even the way they held weapons.

One of them glanced at Craig’s body, then at Victor.

"Someone you knew?"

Victor shook his head almost immediately.

"Not really."

The man accepted that answer without interest.

"Good."

Then his voice hardened.

"Even if the person in front of you is your relative, you kill first."

Victor gave a short nod.

No one said more.

Night arrived fully after that.

Across the abandoned city, darkness settled between ruined buildings while distant camera drones continued broadcasting every surviving team.

Inside one locked house, Tyler’s group had chosen temporary shelter.

The doors were barricaded.

Windows covered.

Old man Rudd slept near the lower hall.

Tansy and Rose took turns near the stair landing before eventually resting.

Tyler slept separately in another room.

Across Libria, screens showed quiet scenes now—survivors sleeping, some teams moving carefully at night, others hiding.

For viewers, even rest had become part of the entertainment.

Inside Tyler’s room, something moved.

A thin section of his clothing quietly tore away from his sleeve.

Then another.

And another.

Without waking anyone, the loose fabric slid together across the floor and gathered into a tiny metallic sphere.

The sphere split.

Small ant-like forms emerged.

Nanobots.

They climbed the wall silently, reached the surveillance camera fixed near the ceiling, and entered through the rear vent.

Seconds later the camera died.

Its light went dark.

Somewhere inside the monitoring center, one technician noticed the feed vanish.

But only for a second.

One faulty camera in a city full of them did not matter enough to interrupt the larger broadcast.

The moment the feed died, Tyler opened his eyes.

His clothing shifted again.

A small copper pot dropped neatly into his palm.

He sat up.

This time he took out the silver medicine injections he had hidden earlier, placed one inside the pot, and drew out a fresh copy.

Then another.

He stored the new one back inside the nanobots woven into his clothing.

Extra survival.

Extra insurance.

Then—

A sound outside.

Tyler froze.

Footsteps.

Fast.

He rose immediately and moved to the window.

Outside, two figures were running through the street.

Not random movement—desperate running.

Tyler narrowed his eyes, then quietly retrieved a sniper rifle from beside the wall.

He had found it earlier in the building and kept it loaded.

He aimed through the scope.

The figures sharpened.

Two participants.

Not from his team.

Both sprinting hard, looking back repeatedly.

"Other survivors..."

Then Tyler shifted the scope farther behind them.

His expression changed.

From the darkness behind the two runners, something enormous moved.

A wide wall of light.

An energy shield.

Not standing still—

Advancing.

Sweeping through the street like a moving barrier.

Tyler lowered the scope immediately.

A bad feeling struck him.

This was no ordinary trap.

He turned and moved fast toward the door.

"It looks like there’s more to this game than they told us," he muttered as he went to wake the others.