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Day 4 of the Drekkal’Zuun
The sun rises pale and distant. Each step feels heavier now. The silence is thicker than ever.

Cynamity and The Mercurii split up at dawn. No words, just a nod. They vanish in opposite directions, searching for supplies.

The Boopiter and Glade work togethe. They scavenge along the crater. They say little. But they move as one.

Far off in the dunes, The Glimloop pauses. It stares into the sand for a long time. Then at its own hands. Then back at the sand. Uncertain if anything is even real.

Feminem moves from ridge to ridge, collecting dry branches and splinters of Martian driftwood. She's careful. She’s preparing.

Toraix stands knee-deep in a shallow basin of muddy water, a sharpened stick clutched in both hands. He waits. And waits. A fish flickers beneath the surface. He strikes. At least he won't starve.

Sadbread and The Venling sit under rusted metal shade, eating rations when something falls from the sky. A small crate lands with a soft thud. Inside: fresh food.

Suchomimos crouches beside Bexxi, carefully redressing a wound on her leg.

Night 4 of the Drekkal’Zuun
The Martian night is windless. Too quiet.

Bexxi and Suchomimos sit near the curve of a canyon wall, their backs warmed by a small, smokeless fire. They speak of strength. Of chance. Of dread.

Not far away, The Glimloop tends to its own wounds.

The Boopiter sits beside Glade, soaking a torn strip of cloth in a water and pressing the cloth gently against her side, making sure any wounds are clean.

Feminem sees a flicker of orange in the distance - It's firelight. She stays hidden.
Cynamity and The Mercurii see it too. They crouch low behind a dune. Neither speaks. Neither dares approach.

Under a jagged piece of fallen metal, The Venling curls in on itself, eyes wide and wet.
It turns to Sadbread, with a trembling voice, asking them to kill it. But Sadbread refuses.

And Toraix? He sleeps. For the first time since the Drekkal’Zuun began, he lets his weapon rest beside him. His dreams are quiet.

Day 5 of the Drekkal’Zuun
The air is dry. Still. Too still. Even the dust doesn’t move like it used to.
It feels like the arena is watching.

At dawn, Suchomimos and Bexxi part ways. She sets off to scavenge for supplies, while he stays behind to guard the camp. She never returns.
Bexxi slipped while climbing the edge of a ravine, the ground crumbled beneath her.

Toraix finds Suchomimus distracted - Suchomimus is looking around for his ally, to no avail. 
Toraix doesn't speak, he just reaches into the pack, and takes what he needs before he vanishes into thin air.

In the southern corridor, Sadbread and The Venling stumble upon Cynamity and The Mercurii. It doesn't take long for Sadbread and the Venling to realize that they have to run, and run they do.
Sadbread stumbles, landing on a hard uneven stone. Their ankle twists with a crack, but the Venling doesn't leave them behind.

The Boopiter and Glade spend the day collecting edible roots and broken tech from old debris.

Feminem climbs to higher ground, following a path of rusted scaffolding and fractured stone. From the top, she sees nearly the whole arena. She does not feel powerful. But she feels ready.

Near a shallow lake, The Glimloop tries to spear fish with a trident it found. It wades too deep, its eyes wide, breath quickening. The water pulls harder than it expects. Its grip slips. It never learned to swim, and moments later it is silent.