Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Yesterday, Thanos was about to make headlines. “Troubled Rapper Jumps Off Bridge, Leaves Behind Mixtape No One Listened To.” Real poetic stuff. He’d even picked the perfect spot—quiet, scenic, no nosy fans taking selfies. But, of course, the universe couldn’t even let him go out in peace.

Cue the James Bond knockoff . Dude doesn’t even ask if he’s okay—just slides him this card with a number on it. Doesn’t explain a damn thing, just “Call it.” Like he’s supposed to be intrigued. And, to his eternal shame, he was. So he called. Thought it’d be a free therapy hotline or some secret cult recruitment thing. He’d been right.

Fast forward 24 hours, and here he is. Not dead, but definitely not better off. Sitting in a room with 455 of the most pathetic losers he’s ever seen in his life, wearing a jumpsuit that makes Thanos look like he just got fired from Amazon warehouse duty. The air reeks of sweat, desperation, and a vague whiff of blood. Nobody here looks like they’ve got a Plan B. Hell, most of them don’t look like they’ve got a Plan A.

Anyway, he’s not too worried. Kidnapped? Sure, fine, whatever. Happens all the time. Thanos should be pissed, but honestly? He’s not. This beats the bridge. At least he’s not stuck staring at his reflection in the water, contemplating whether he’d scream on the way down. Plus, there’s a certain charm to all this. The creepy guards in pink jumpsuits, the PlayStation shapes on their masks—it’s giving him serious budget sci-fi movie vibes. If nothing else, it’s better material than anything he had for his next album.

Thanos toys idly with his cross necklace, and smiles. He’s got a Plan B, unlike these ingrates.

And here’s Thanos. Not that Thanos. Not the "snap your fingers, galaxy killer" type. More the "snap your fingers, get my money back, or I’ll break your kneecaps" kind. But who’s keeping track?

These guys running the show? They’re not scary. They’re tryhards. Masks? Voice modulator? Grow up. If you’re gonna threaten someone, do it to their face. Own it. Theatrics are for people who don’t have real power. Thanos should know—he invented theatrics.

Now they’re lining us up, shoving them all outside. Great. The fresh air is nice. He’d thank them, but he doesn’t think the playstation-masked one has a sense of humor. They’re all in some oversized playground, and there’s a giant doll at the other end. Creepy. 

The guards, though? Real freaks. Pink jumpsuits, matching masks. One of them’s got a shotgun that’s practically trembling in his hands. Thanos is supposed to believe he’s going to kill him? Please. If he flinched every time a guy pointed a gun at him, he’d have spent his whole life shaking like a cocktail. And of course–

Thanos pauses, his rapid internal monologue momentarily halting.

Bingo.

Ash brown hair, little plait in her high updo, pretty face, undoubtedly perfect body, full lips. Nice . Thanos’s eyes rake the lady up and down, and reads the little number on her breast pocket. Player 19 6.

Thanos struts over, smirk on his face.  "Well, well, well," He drawls, his voice low and deliberate, "Player 196. I gotta say, they must’ve saved the best for last. You’re making this jumpsuit look like high fashion, senorita.”

Player 196 doesn’t even glance at him, her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on the creepy doll at the far end of the field. "Charming," she says flatly. Her voice is cold, sharp, and exactly the kind of tone Thanos finds irresistible. "Now go try that line on someone with low enough self-esteem to care."

Thanos grins, undeterred. "Ouch. Tough crowd. But I get it. You’ve got this whole ‘ice queen’ thing going on. Very mysterious, very intimidating. It’s working for you, by the way. Makes the rest of these clowns look even worse." He gestures vaguely toward the crowd of other players, most of whom look like they haven’t slept—or showered—in days.

She finally turns her head, slowly, as if it physically pains her to acknowledge his existence. Her eyes flick over him, taking in his self-satisfied smirk and the chain around his neck. "You talk a lot for someone who probably got dragged into this game because you couldn’t pay back your student loans."

"Damn, you’re good. Quick, too. But for the record, it wasn’t student loans. Never went to college. Waste of time when you’ve got natural talent." He taps his temple, then points at her like she should be impressed.

She isn’t. "Let me guess. Rapper? Wannabe entrepreneur? Or just another guy who thinks owning crypto makes him interesting?"

"Rapper, actually. And entrepreneur. Multifaceted, you know? Gotta keep the brand strong. But don’t worry, you’ll hear all about it once we get out of here. I’ll even name a track after you. Something cool, like 'Cold as Ice, Hot as Fire.' What do you think? What if I sang it for you, senorita?”

Her face dropped. “Please don’t serenade me.”

Thanos rubbed his hands together, jumping on the spot, then he paused abruptly and swivelled on his heel. “You and me together, yeah, I feel the power–”

Player 19 6 stared.

“Found her hidden in the weeds, yeah my beauty flower,” Thanos rapped, gesticulating with his hands exaggeratedly, throwing up random gang signs he didn’t know the meaning of, then finished off with, “Red, orange, yellow, green,” Thanos scrunched his face up, then threw up twin fingers. “ I’m a legend, Thanos.”

Player 19 6 kept staring.

“Sweet ass tracksuit looking –” Thanos threw a leg up in the air, looking up at the sky. “ Tight. Hope I get the green–” He spread his arms out. “Light!”

“I, like–” Thanos grinned, then threw up a kiss symbol with his hands. “You.”

He wiggled an eyebrow.

Player 196 blinked. Once. Twice. Then turned her gaze back to the giant creepy doll at the far end of the field like she hadn’t just witnessed what might be the single worst attempt at seduction in human history. 

"I’m impressed," she finally said. "Not by your rapping, obviously, but by your sheer commitment to embarrassing yourself in public.”

Thanos took this as a victory. "See? I knew you’d come around–”

But before Thanos could fire off another line—likely one just as cringe-inducing as the last—a distorted voice blared from hidden speakers, freezing the entire group in place. 

"Attention, players," the voice droned, mechanical and menacing. "The game will now begin. When the doll says 'green light,' you may move forward. When it says 'red light,' you must stop. If you fail to comply, you will be eliminated ."

A hush fell over the crowd. Well, not so much a hush as a collective wave of panicked breathing, shifting feet, and one guy in the back openly crying. Thanos, on the other hand, just cocked his head and smirked, like he was about to play a game of freeze tag with toddlers.

"Eliminated, huh?" he muttered to no one in particular. "They really went all out with the drama.”

Then a random guy rushed forward, waving his hands in the air like a maniac. Thanos read the back of his jumpsuit– Player 456.  “Listen carefully!” The freak exclaimed, “This is not just a game!” He hesitated, his brows knitting together, “If you lose the game, you die!”

Laughs rippled through the crowd, and Thanos rolled his eyes.

An old hag from the crowd spoke up, arms crossed. “We’re going to die playing Red Light, Green Light?”

“Yes, that’s right! If they catch you moving, they will kill you!” He waved his finger in the air, spit flying from his mouth like a frothing dog, then jutted a finger into the air. “They will shoot you somewhere–”

Player 196 giggled, leaning towards Thanos. “That guy must be drunk.”

“It’s just scare tactics to mess with your head,.” He turned back to Player 196, ignoring the frantic guy like he wasn’t worth the air he was breathing. “You see what I mean? This is why I don’t do collabs with amateurs. Sounds like my old man when he gets home too drunk and starts talking crazy.” He tapped his temple. “Says there’s a fucking bug in his head.”

Player 196 gave him a look. “Your Dad sounds schizophrenic. I see where you get it from.”

The man continued his ramblings, pointing at the doll behind them. “The doll’s eyes– I-It has motion detectors! Please , please listen to me–”

Thanos cackled, pointing at the old man. “See? Talking about devices.”

An ugly fucker with a bowl cut spoke up, “I think he’s trying to scare us so he can win the prize money.”

A collective “That’s right!” rippled through the crowd,

Bowl Cut snarled, “Don’t pull any tricks, asshole!”

“You have to believe me!” Old Man spat, “You–”

But then it happened: the doll’s head swiveled, turning around slowly.

Old Man’s eyes widened, his breath quickneing. “D-Do not be alarmed or panic!” He waved a finger in the air, “No matter what happens, do not panic and start running–”

“Let the game begin."  The doll sang in it’s lilting, robotic voice.

The crowd hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was a trap, but soon enough everyone was shuffling forward. Thanos took the pace of a leisurely jog, whilst keeping his swagger firmly intact. He even whistled a little tune as he moved, like he was strolling down the street on a Sunday morning instead of playing what was supposedly a life-or-death game. The doll turned back around, and the singsong voice echoed again.

"Red light!"

Everyone froze again, except this time, the Old Man who had been ranting earlier took it upon himself to break the silence. "HOLD STILL!" he hollered, his voice shaking but loud enough to echo across the playground. His arms were spread wide, his face twisted with equal parts terror and determination.

The crowd, collectively jittery, seemed to hang onto the Old Man's desperate cry like it was gospel. No one dared move a muscle—not even Thanos, who paused mid-stride, one boot still slightly raised, his chain dangling like a pendulum. 

The doll's eerie, lifeless eyes scanned the field, her plastic head clicking with precision. The air was so thick with tension you could practically hear the collective heartbeats of everyone present. But no gunshots rang out.

After an eternal moment, the doll’s head swiveled back to its original position, and her voice chimed again: “Green light.”

The Old Man dropped his arms and immediately shouted, " Move! " 

Thanos, still calm as ever, finally set his foot down and ambled forward, throwing a casual glance at Player 196. "See? Guy's got it handled. That’s the type of leadership you just can’t buy these days. Natural-born general."

Player 196 didn’t dignify him with a response. The rest of the crowd had broken into frantic shuffles, their movements clumsy and jerky, like a group of half-drunk commuters rushing to catch the last train.

“Red light!”

“FREEZE!” the Old Man bellowed again, his voice cracking with strain. Everyone skidded to an awkward stop, some nearly toppling over. Somehow, though, not a single soul wobbled enough to trigger the doll. 

The doll swiveled back again. "Green light!"

Everyone surged forward once more, some faster than others. The man in the bowl cut tripped over his own feet and barely caught himself, muttering curses as he scrambled upright. Thanos, meanwhile, was using this “life-or-death” situation to practice his moonwalk, gliding backward.

“Red light!”

“FREEZE!” The Old Man’s shout echoed again, and the crowd obeyed. Not a single twitch. Not a single step.

Thanos snorted at the absurdity of it all. “Man, we should put him on Spotify. Boy's got lungs.”

The mechanical voice resumed its singsong chirp: "Green light!"

By now, even the most panicked players were falling into a rhythm. The Old Man’s incessant “FREEZE!” was like a safety blanket. A few players began glancing at him with something akin to awe, like he was a prophet sent to deliver them from elimination.

“Red light!”  

“FREEZE!”  

By now, the Old Man was practically wheezing from the effort, but his timing remained impeccable. Thanos leaned toward Player 196, his voice a low murmur. “What the hell is going on?”

Player 196 gave him a sidelong glance, seeming uncomfortable. “Is he high or what?”

Thanos’s lips twitched upwards, but he kept his eyes on that doll. “Nope. No one is like that when they’re high.”

“You’ve been high?”

Thanos paused, and a faint buzzing could be heard in his right ear. “I mean, you interested?” He asked slowly.

There was a small pause, and Thanos’s eyes trailed the buzzing noise. A bee. Circling the flower. It did a small rotate around Player 196 before landing on her neck. Her brows furrowed, “What’s that?”

Thanos’s eyes flicked to her, and he smirked slightly. “It knows you’re a flower. There’s a bee on you–”

“A bee? ” She shrieked, flailing her arms around and rapidly smacking her neck, she began to jump around screaming, before falling to a stop with an incredulous grin on her face, hands still up. “Shit,” She laughed, blinking. “I totally just moved, didn’t I?”

She laughed again, but was cut off as a bullet caught her between the eyes.

She fell to the ground in a heap. Thanos’s expression froze, staring at the place where Player 196 had just stood, blood splattered on his face.

Thanos blinked once. Twice. The smirk that had been so firmly plastered to his face dissolved into something unreadable. The blood on his cheek felt cold, sticky.

Don't move.

That’s the first thought that claws through my mind. Don’t move. She’s dead. Her eyes—those eyes—vacant now, staring at nothing.

Don’t move.

If he moves, he’s next. He’s frozen. But he can’t feel the fear, can’t feel the panic yet. There’s no space for it. The numbness of disbelief is too thick. Thoughts are sluggish. They feel disconnected from the body.

He wanted to move, to do something, to scream, but he couldn’t. Not just because he might die if he did—though that thought clung to him like a vice—but because he was frozen. Shock had seized him, rooting him in place like he was no longer a man but a statue of one.

God. He didn’t even know her name. He didn’t even know her name.

The hole in her head had been small, almost neat, like some cruel god had punched his finger straight through her. But the blood—the blood was everywhere now. Spilling from her, soaking into the ground beneath her. Staining her tracksuit, her skin, Thanos’s skin. He couldn’t stop staring at it, that gaping wound where life had been just moments before.

A woman beside him’s eyes flickered down hesitantly, and she suddenly broke into a scream, scrambling backwards, only to be cut off by a gunshot.

Chaos erupted.  

The once-organized shuffle dissolved into pure bedlam. Screams filled the air as players broke into panicked sprints, desperate to escape the invisible death that stalked them. The doll’s eyes swiveled with mechanical precision. Gunfire erupted in bursts, each shot marking another fallen body. The ground was quickly littered with players, their jumpsuits stained crimson.

Thanos stood rooted to the spot. The chaos around him blurred as his mind reeled. 

“Move, dammit!” someone shouted, shoving past him.  

The doll’s voice rang out again, eerily cheerful. “Red light!”  

Thanos snapped back to reality just in time to see the man who’d shoved him take another step before freezing mid-stride. A gunshot cracked, and the man’s body crumpled to the ground. 

Thanos’s breath hitched. He couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but stand there, bloodied and stunned. He couldn’t even move his hands. They were pinned to the ground beside him, trembling, useless. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to run, to crawl, to do anything.

The Old Man’s voice broke through the noise. “HOLD STILL!”

Somehow, a handful of players still obeyed, their bodies locked in rigid, desperate stillness. Others weren’t so lucky. A woman tripped over a corpse and instinctively reached out to steady herself—another shot rang out, and she collapsed next to it.  

Thanos’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his pulse thundering in his ears. The air smelled of copper and sweat, and the sound of gunfire echoed like drumbeats in his skull. His hand twitched, almost imperceptibly, and his eyes darted to the doll. Her head was already turning, her dead, plastic eyes scanning the field.  

Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t move.

“Green light!”  

The voice sang out again, and the remaining players stumbled forward, their steps clumsy and frantic. The ground was slippery with blood now, making even careful movements treacherous.  

Another shot. Another body hit the ground.  

Thanos’s head snapped up as a figure barreled past him. It was Bowl Cut, his face contorted in panic.  

“Get out of my way!” Bowl Cut screamed, shoving past anyone in his path as he sprinted toward the finish line.  

The doll’s eyes swiveled toward him.  

“No, no, no!” Bowl Cut shrieked, throwing his hands up in a futile attempt to protect himself. A bullet tore through his chest, and he dropped like a stone. 

Shaky hands moved to his cross necklace. He tried to open it, but his fingers just couldn’t grip it. It finally opened with a click , and he plucked a pink pill out, shoving it into his mouth like it was salvation itself. Chew. Chew. It hits quicker. His throat worked desperately to swallow, he closed his eyes, muttering under his breath, “Come on, come on, kick in already…”

“Green light!”

The game continued as if nothing had happened, the doll’s cheerful announcement ringing through the death-stained field. Thanos blinked slowly, his mind catching up as the drug hit his bloodstream. The dull numbness that had gripped him began to lift, replaced by… something else. Something dangerous.

Thanos grinned. Wide. Too wide. His teeth glinted under the hazy sunlight as he swayed slightly, the fear evaporating. He cocked his head, the world around him spinning but feeling suddenly… lighter. The screams, the blood, the gunfire—it was all a big joke now, wasn’t it?

Thanos staggered forward. His swagger was back, but this time, it was looser. The surviving players cast worried glances at him as they moved forward in tense, deliberate steps. Thanos, meanwhile, walked with no urgency at all, practically dancing his way through the blood-soaked field.

Player 196's body lay crumpled to the side, and for a moment, Thanos slowed down, his hazy gaze lingering on her vacant eyes. "Man," he whispered, "you really missed the punchline."

“Red light!”

Thanos froze mid-spin, one arm raised above his head. The doll’s eyes whirred as it scanned the players. Around him, the field was littered with the fallen—bodies sprawled awkwardly, faces frozen in terror.

The doll’s head swiveled back, satisfied, and the singsong voice chimed again. “Green light!”

The Old Man called out, voice shaky. “Get in lines in order of tallest to shortest– It can’t detect you if you’re partially obscured! Use the players in front of you as cover!”

The Old Man’s voice wavered with desperation, but some players began to follow his advice, hurriedly shuffling into lines. The ones at the front of each line were visibly trembling, their shoulders stiff as they realized they were now the sacrificial shields for the rest.

Thanos’s wide eyes darted around, jaw grinding. He needed to move .

His eyes caught on a man. Black hair, handsome, hair tucked behind his ears, ever so slightly shorter than Thanos– Already forming a line behind a group of men. Bingo. 

Thanos rushed forward, cutting into the line, pushing and shoving to get in front of the man. Thanos shoved into the line, hard enough to knock another player sideways. The black haired man stumbled as Thanos shoved past him, his face twisting into a snarl. “What the hell are you doing?!”

Thanos didn’t even glance back. “Survival of the fittest, boy.” His grin stretched wider, his teeth. "And, let’s face it, I’m a lot more fit than you.”

The black-haired man steadied himself, his hands clenched into fists. The man tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He didn’t say a word, but there was no mistaking the flicker of annoyance in his gaze. For a brief moment, it looked like he was going to retaliate, but then the doll’s mechanical voice rang out again.

“Red light!”

Everyone froze. Thanos could feel the black haired man’s heated glare boring into the back of his head, but he didn’t move. Not even to gloat. His body remained stock-still, his posture oddly loose despite the tension rippling through the air. The doll’s gaze swept over the field, lingering on Thanos for what felt like an eternity before moving on.

Thanos’s eyes drifted to the black haired man’s breast pocket– Player 124.

The silence was deafening. Only the soft sound of wind rustling through the dead and the dying punctuated the stillness. Then—

Thanos moved forward before he knew he was doing it, shoving the line of men infront of him with a smirk on his face. They screamed in horror, stumbling forward, arms flailing as their body jerked to stop the momentum. A single shot rang out, and a man stopped, a red stain blooming across his chest. Another man, pushed by the first, tripped over the fallen body, his foot slipping in the blood-soaked dirt. He flailed desperately to regain his balance but failed.

One by one, the line of men toppled like dominos, each movement triggering another shot, another body hitting the ground. Thanos stood at the back.

He smirked, still frozen, hands outstretched where he’d pushed them. “Ding.”

"Green light!"

Thanos dropped his arms, the smirk never leaving his face, and ran forward, jumping up and clicking his feet together. The line he had destroyed was now a heap of bodies behind him, staining the ground red. The surviving players scattered in different directions, some breaking into sprints, others crawling desperately toward the finish line. Fear had consumed any semblance of strategy.

Player 124, the black-haired man, was no longer still. He stormed toward Thanos, his teeth gritted, his fists clenched at his sides. He wasn’t trying to escape anymore, his entire focus was locked on one thing—Thanos.

"Red light!"

Both men froze. Player 124 was just steps away from Thanos, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his face contorted in fury. The doll’s eyes whirred as it scanned the field, lingering on each player before moving on. 

The doll’s head turned back to its resting position. "Green light!"

Player 124 didn’t wait. He lunged forward and slammed into Thanos with all the force he could muster. The impact sent them both tumbling to the ground, a cloud of dust and blood rising around them. Thanos barely had time to react before 124 was on top of him, fists flying.

“Piece of fucking shit!” 124 snarled, landing a punch square on Thanos’s jaw. “You nearly killed me!”

Thanos laughed—a low, guttural sound that bubbled up despite the blows raining down on him. “What’s your problem, man?!”

Another punch cracked against his cheekbone, but Thanos barely flinched. Instead, he grabbed 124’s wrist mid-swing and twisted, forcing the man to grunt. With a swift, brutal motion, Thanos shoved him off and rolled to his feet, blood trickling from his split lip, moving to lunge.

“Red light!”

Both men froze, locked in a tableau. Thanos’s hand was still gripping 124’s wrist, his other hand clenched into a fist mid-swing. The doll’s eyes whirred again, its lifeless eyes scanning the field. A few feet away, another player shifted slightly, trying to crawl forward—and paid the price with a bullet to the back of the head. The lifeless body slumped to the ground, blood pooling beneath it.

Thanos’s eyes flicked to the timer on the wall. One minute.

The doll’s gaze swept past Thanos and 124, apparently satisfied, and turned back. "Green light!"

124 wrenched his arm free and lunged again, this time pulling a sharpened piece of metal from his jumpsuit. The makeshift weapon gleamed in the sunlight as he drove it toward Thanos’s chest. But Thanos was ready. His hand shot out, catching 124’s wrist mid-strike, and he twisted with bone-snapping force.

124 screamed as the metal shard clattered to the ground. With a brutal motion, Thanos drove his knee into 124’s gut, forcing the air from his lungs in a choked gasp. The man crumpled, falling to his knees, but Thanos didn’t stop. He grabbed the back of 124’s head and slammed it into the ground with enough force to crack the earth beneath them.

“Red light!”

Thanos froze again, his hand still gripping 124’s bloodied hair. The doll’s head swiveled, its mechanical eyes locking onto them. For a moment, it felt as if time itself had stopped. Thanos’s grin widened, blood dripping down his face, as he stared back at the doll.

The doll moved on. "Green light!"

Thanos didn’t waste a second. He hauled 124 to his feet, ignoring the man’s feeble attempts to struggle, and leaned in close, “Bye bye.”

With that, Thanos shoved him forward—straight into the doll’s line of sight.

“Red light!”

124 froze mid-step, his body trembling, his eyes wide with terror. The doll’s head swiveled back, its gaze locking onto him. For a moment, there was silence.

“Thirty seconds!” The Old Man screeched, beckoning the rest forward. “You still die if you don’t cross the finish line!”

Thanos’s eyes snapped to the freak, then back to the timer. Twenty six seconds.

The timer ticked down. Twenty-five. Twenty-four. The distant finish line shimmered in the haze of sunlight, impossibly close and yet tantalizingly far. He could feel his pulse thrumming through his entire body, his muscles twitching with anticipation.  

Player 124 was still frozen, his back rigid, his chest rising and falling in shallow gasps as the doll’s unblinking eyes bore into him. The tension in the air was suffocating, and Thanos could almost taste the fear radiating from the man.  

Twenty seconds.  

Adrenaline and that pink pill coursed through his veins. His grin stretched wider, teeth glinting as he cocked his head. "Time’s ticking, buddy," he muttered, loud enough for 124 to hear.  

“Green light!”  

The doll’s voice shattered the silence, and in an instant, 124 broke into a sprint. He didn’t look back, his feet pounding against the blood-soaked earth, desperate to make it to the finish line.  

Thanos took off as well. Around him, the remaining players were nothing more than shapes and sounds, their cries and grunts blending into one sound.

Fifteen seconds.  

The finish line was so close now that Thanos could see the faint outline of the guards waiting on the other side, their expressions cold and indifferent. He laughed, half in genuine amusement, half in panic, as he pushed his legs to move faster.  

Ten seconds.  

He surged ahead, overtaking several players who were still stumbling forward, their faces etched with exhaustion and terror. He passed 124, who was gasping for air, his strides faltering as the weight of his injuries slowed him down.  

Five seconds.  

Thanos turned his head slightly, glancing back at 124 with a look of mock pity. “Should’ve worked on your cardio, boy!”

Three seconds.  

124’s eyes burned with fury as he reached out, his fingers just grazing the back of Thanos’s jumpsuit. It wasn’t enough.  

Two seconds.  

Thanos threw himself forward, his body crossing the finish line just as the timer hit zero. He stumbled, nearly falling to his knees, but caught himself, spinning around to face the carnage behind him.  

The field was littered with bodies, some frozen in mid-step, others crumpled where they had fallen. The few remaining players who had made it to the finish line were panting, their faces pale and their eyes hollow.  

“Nice one.”

Thanos’s head swivelled around. Player 124, heaving, sweat drenched, and smiling. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Thanos stared at him, then suddenly patted him on the back harshly, grinning madly. “Thank you, bro!”

124 flinched at the heavy slap on his back, his brow twitching slightly, but he didn’t falter. Around them, the surviving players either collapsed in exhaustion or stared blankly at the scene of death and chaos that had unfolded.

Thanos leaned in closer, his hand still resting heavily on Player 124’s back, as if they were old friends sharing a private joke. “You know, for a second there, I thought you were going to kill me.” He chuckled, a deep, guttural laugh that sounded almost genuine—almost.  124 smiled nervously. “Yeah– I mean, I was panicking. Got a little stuck in the heat of the moment, you know? Anyways– what’s your name?”

Thanos threw up a gang sign. “Thanos. Like the–”

“Infinity stone guy?”

“Like the god. And you?”

124 straightened, clearly restraining himself from retaliating. “It’s Namgyu. Player 124, apparently. But yeah, Namgyu works.”

Thanos blinked. “Namsu?”

Namgyu frowned. “Namgyu.”

“...Namsu.”

“Namgyu.”

Thanos squinted, “Namsu , whatever,” He clapped him on the back again, harder this time, as if testing how much Namgyu could take. “You’ve got some guts, trying to take me out back there.” His bloodied teeth flashed in a crooked smile. “I like it. I like it. Well done, Namsu, lots of guts, but those guts will spill out on this piss covered ground if you ever pull something like that again, got it?”

Namgyu chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the spot on his back where Thanos had hit him. “It’s just the adrenaline, you know? Nothing personal. Besides, we’re alive, aren’t we? That’s all that matters.”

Thanos let out another laugh, the sound scraping against his throat like a jagged rock. He slapped Namgyu on the back once more, this time with more force, almost knocking the air out of him. Namgyu winced but quickly recovered, flashing a weak smile.

“Yeah, yeah, you know how it is,” Thanos said, wiping some blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, the blood streaking across his face like warpaint.

“I just—” he hesitated, and Thanos cocked his head, “This place is fucking weird, man. That freaky ass doll… I feel like it’s watching us. And what about that old guy?” Namgyu pointed to Player 456. “Gramps knew what was coming. He tried warning us. So either he’s hella perceptive, or he knows something.”

Thanos pulled his head back, “Damn. You’re right,” He intoned, turning around to look at Player 456. The man was chatting with some fattie and another vaguely attractive guy, Thanos squinted, Player 001.

"We should go over to them.” Namgyu mused, turning back to Thanos.

Thanos raised a bloodied eyebrow, scowling. “Go over to them ? What for?” He said. “You think they’re worth our time? Namsu, come on, look at ‘em!”

Namgyu flinched at the mispronunciation of his name, but said nothing. Player 001, the other old man, looked calm—too calm—like someone who had nothing to lose. Player 456 was speaking in hushed, urgent tones to the fat man.

“They’re alive ,” Namgyu said, crossing his arms. “And they’ve got something we don’t.”

Thanos tilted his head like a curious bird. “Oh yeah ? And what’s that?”

Namgyu pointed at 456. “Him.”

Thanos’s eyes narrowed, then he put his hands in his waistband, stepping back and forth to get out energy. “Look, bro, since when is this ‘we’? I don’t know you,” He said, throwing up gestures in Namgyu’s face. “You want to go hold hands with Gramps and his chubby buddy? Go. But if you drag me into some kumbaya bullshit and it gets me killed, you’re gonna find out what’s worse than this doll.”

Namgyu made a face. “Come on, man–”

“No, I won’t come on. What you want from me? Because I just watched like, fifty people die, I ain’t got time for dead weight.”

Namgyu sighed, “What I want is not to get shot in the face by a creepy robot doll, alright? Call me crazy, but maybe strength in numbers might help.”

Thanos snorted, pacing in a tight circle. “Strength in numbers,” he repeated mockingly. “Cute idea. Real cute. Except, I’m the only strength you need, buddy. What do I need Gramps and his Big Mac friend for, huh? To slow me down? To whisper bedtime stories while the rest of us are dodging death?” He spat on the ground, the glob of bloodied saliva splattering at Namgyu’s feet. “No thanks.”

Namgyu stepped back, shaking his head. “Alright, fine, Lone Wolf. But even wolves run in packs.”

Thanos stopped pacing, narrowing his eyes. “Yeah, and guess what happens to weak wolves in a pack? They get eaten.” He gestured vaguely toward the scattered bodies littering the field. “And I’m not about to waste my time babysitting a bunch of pussies . Gramps can keep his secrets. The fat one can keep his lunch. And you—” Thanos poked Namgyu hard in the chest, enough to make him take a step back. “Are you a pussy, Namsu?”

Namgyu opened his mouth to argue, but Thanos cut him off. “Here’s the deal, Namsu—”

“Namgyu,” he corrected under his breath, barely audible.

“—I’m gonna do what I do best: survive. And if you want to ride my coattails, fine. But I’m not holding your hand, and I’m sure as hell not listening to your brilliant plans. Sound good?”

Namgyu stared at Thanos, his lips pressed into a thin line, the flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Yeah, sounds great,” he said dryly, brushing Thanos’s finger off his chest.

“That’s the spirit!” Thanos boomed suddenly, his voice loud enough to draw attention. The few other players who had survived and made it to the finish line stood in silence, eyes wide, hands still trembling from the near-death experience. “You stick with me, and you won’t have to worry about a damn thing! I’ll make sure you stay safe, bro. Trust me.”

He dragged Namgyu toward the group before the man could question what was happening, practically skipping as he went. This was fun. God, Thanos loves this. Loves watching Namgyu squirm, his jaw tightening like he’s trying not to yell. He wants to yell, though—Thanos can feel it. Like heat radiating off a fire. He thinks Thanos is insane. Maybe he is. Maybe he’s not. The best part is, even Thanos isn’t entirely sure. Or is he just high as fuck and enjoying the fireworks?

As they approached, Player 390 – Bic Mac– looked up, his eyes narrowing. “What do you want?”

Thanos held up his hands in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face. “Relax, bro! We’re just here to make friends! Isn’t that right, Namsu?”

Namgyu sneered. “Oh shut the fuck up, chunkers. We’re not here for you,” He turned to 456, who was regarding the two with an unreadable expression. “Hello, sir. We just wanted to ask you.. How did you know about the doll?”

Everyone turned to 456, who now looked uncomfortable. “Lucky guess, I suppose.”

001 raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. “Real lucky, it seems.”

 Namgyu smirked, leaning forward. “So that means you’re like, really smart, right? We thought maybe we could pool resources. You know, work together.”

Player 390 scoffed, crossing his arms. “Work together? With him ?” He jabbed a finger toward Thanos, who was now making finger guns at Player 001.

“Pew pew!” Thanos whispered, pretending to shoot invisible bullets.

“He’s fucking tweaking, don’t mind him–” 

Namgyu turned sharply toward Thanos, who had begun miming an elaborate slow-motion reload of his imaginary gun. “Seriously, man?” he hissed, grabbing his arm. 

Thanos frowned, shrugging Namgyu’s hand off, he began to bop his head to an unheard tune. “Relax, Namsu. This is called ‘establishing dominance.’” He gestured vaguely toward Player 390, who was glaring at him with undisguised disdain. “See Chunky McThicc over there? He’s already sweating. Mind games, bro. Mind games.”

“I’m sweating because it’s 90 degrees, you moron,” Player 390 shot back, his voice dripping with annoyance.

Thanos sneered, squaring up. “You got something to say, Burger King?”

Namgyu laughed, pumping a fist in the air. “Fuck him up! Pierce the piggie!”

Player 390 looked genuinely dumbfounded. “Okay, can we please focus? People are dead. A lot of people. And unless we figure out what’s coming next, we’re all gonna end up like them.”

Player 456 finally spoke, his voice calm and measured. “He’s not wrong. The games aren’t going to get easier. If you’re serious about working together—” his gaze flicked between Namgyu and Thanos, pausing slightly longer on the latter, “—then maybe we have a chance.”

Thanos let out a low whistle, his grin widening. “Wow, Gramps. Inspiring speech. You been practicing that in front of a mirror?”

Namgyu shot Thanos a warning glare, but 456 remained unfazed. “No. But I’ve been watching people like you for a long time.”

Thanos raised an eyebrow. “People like me? What, sexy geniuses with perfect hair?”

“People who think they’re invincible,” 456 said quietly. “They never are.”

“You ain’t my old man, if I wanted life advice, I’d ask my therapist—oh wait, I don’t have one, because I’m not a little bitch.”

Namgyu pulled Thanos closer, “Stop making this harder to bullshit,” He hissed, then turned back to 456, ignoring Thanos’s exaggerated mock gasp. “Look, sir, I’m serious about working together. I know you don’t owe us anything, but—”

Player 001 chuckled softly, drawing everyone’s attention. “It’s always the loud ones who fall first,” he said, his voice light. “All that noise... it just makes you a bigger target.”

Thanos’s eyes narrowed, the grin dropping from his face for the first time. “You got something to say, old man?”

“Not at all,” 001 replied smoothly, his smile never wavering. “Just an observation.”

Namgyu, sensing the tension rising, quickly stepped between them. “Alright, alright, let’s all take a breath, okay? We’re on the same side here. Survival, remember?”

Thanos snorted. “Yeah, sure. Same side. Until someone decides to stab me in the back.” He shot a pointed look at Namgyu. “Not that I’m naming names. Oh who am I kidding– I’m talking about you, forehead .”

Namgyu frowned. “My forehead is fine, for God’s sake, I barely touched you.”

“Barely touched me?!” Thanos barked out a laugh. “Bro, you were this close to taking me down! Admit it—you wanted me dead.”

Namgyu threw his hands up. “Fine! Maybe I did for like, half a second. But then I realized I’d have to deal with all this crap on my own, and honestly? That’s worse.”

Thanos considered this for a moment, then nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Fair enough.”

456 cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “If you two are done, we need to decide what our next move is. The people running this game aren’t going to wait for us to figure it out.”

“And what do you suggest, Gramps?” Thanos asked, leaning back with his arms crossed. “You got some magic plan to save us all?”

“No,” 456 admitted. “But I do know this: if we keep fighting each other, we’re already dead.”

Then 001 sighed. “Look, boys, I feel for you. But we just don’t have space for another player.”

456 turned to 001. “What? But–”

“But nothing, they’re clearly volatile. Two disrespectful thugs.”

Thanos’s jaw tightened, “Disrespectful thugs, huh?” he said, stepping toward 001. “I didn’t realize we were signing up for etiquette school. What’s next, we compare table manners while dodging sniper rounds?”

Namgyu moved to grab his arm, but Thanos yanked it away, his eyes boring into 001. “You think you’re better than me, huh? Just because you’re… Vaguely attractive doesn’t mean I’m scared of you.”

Player 001 didn’t flinch, “I’m not the one flailing around, making a spectacle of myself,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re loud. Predictable. And predictable people don’t last long in a game like this.”

Thanos felt the words hit like a slap, but he masked it with a laugh, loud and mocking. “Predictable, huh? You don’t know nothing about nothing, Gramps.”

456 stepped between them, his voice rising. “Alright, enough. This isn’t helping anyone. We’re all stuck here, and we’re all trying to survive.”

Thanos barely heard him, his focus locked on 001. He felt the heat rising in his chest, the same heat that had gotten him into countless fights before. He wanted to shut the old man up, to prove that no one talked to him like that and walked away unscathed.

They were interrupted by the doors to the playground opening, and Thanos looked back to see those same masked people in pink tracksuits. One of the masked enforcers stepped forward, holding a megaphone.

“Attention, players,” the distorted voice echoed through the room. “Please prepare yourselves and follow the instructions given. You will return to the dormitory, and await instructions.”


—-------------------------------------------

Namgyu doesn't like the way Thanos looks at him. It’s like he knows something Namgyu doesn’t—like he’s already decided how Namgyu dies, and he’s just waiting for the right moment. His eyes are too calm for a place like this. Calm means crazy in here. That’s how it works. No one normal can sit in this stinking warehouse of death with that many dead bodies on the floor and hum rap. Namgyu figures it was one of his own songs. Who hums their own songs while someone’s screaming their lungs out in the corner? Thanos does.  

What is his deal? High, maybe. Definitely not sober. Or just insane. Maybe both. If Namgyu had to bet, he’d put my money on both. He hasn’t blinked in, like, ten minutes. Who doesn’t blink for ten minutes? That’s serial killer behavior. And yet here Namgyu is, smiling at him like he’s his best friend in the world.  

It’s not like Namgyu had a choice. He’s not an idiot. You pick your allies fast in a place like this, and Thanos… well, he looked like someone no one else would mess with. He’s strong, for one. Namgyu had taken one glance at him and written him off as weak, but when he’d made his move, tackled him, Thanos had overpowered him easily.

And that voice, like gravel being crushed under a truck. Namgyu thought, “Yeah, this is the guy who’s gonna keep me alive.” But now he’s not so sure.  

He said something about destiny earlier. Namgyu is pretty sure he said, “You and I were destined to meet in this game, Namgyu.” Who says that? Who uses the word “destined” when people are getting shot? He laughed it off, of course. Gave him the usual, “Yeah, bro,” with that fake confidence he’s mastered over the years.

But inside, his stomach was doing flips. Destiny? What does that even mean? Is he planning something? Does he know something Namgyu doesn't?  

God, he hates this. He hates him. He hates this stupid game. Why did he even agree to this? No, scratch that. Why did he even think he could survive this?

No, he hadn’t known this was life or death. But he’s not strong. Not smart. Just… loud. Yeah, loud. That’s his thing. Talk big so people think he’s tough, but he’s not. Not even close. He’s scared. He’s scared of the games, scared of dying, scared of people like Thanos who probably don’t feel fear at all.  

And yet he keeps pretending. It’s all he’s got. Thanos calls him “brother” like they’ve been friends for years, and he nods along like, “Yeah, man, we’re in this together.” But they’re not. They’re not in anything together. Namgyu is just using him to stay alive, and he’s pretty sure he’s doing the same to him. He doesn’t need Namgy, though. That’s the thing. Namgyu needs him. He needs someone bigger, scarier, crazier than himto keep the others off his back.  

But what if Thanos turns on him? What if this “destiny” crap is just his way of saying he’s gonna gut him when it’s convenient? Teaming up, acting all buddy-buddy, and then—boom—knife in the throat. 

No, he can’t ditch Thanos. Not yet. He’ll just have to keep playing along, laughing at his weird jokes and nodding at his insane ramblings about fate or whatever. Namgyu will smile and pretend like he’s not terrified every time Thanos puts a hand on his shoulder, like he doesn't feel like throwing up every time Thanos says his name in that quick, sing-song voice of his.  

Thanos turned to Namgyu, smirking. “See? Told you we didn’t need Gramps and his crew. They can barely keep it together without holding hands.”

Namgyu ignored him, his attention fixed on 456 and 001. He could see the calculating look in their eyes, the unspoken exchange of thoughts. These two definitely knew something—or at least, they suspected something more than the rest of the group did. Whatever it was, Namgyu was determined to figure it out.

The players were ushered out of the room in a single file line, the masked enforcers herding them like cattle. Thanos strutted ahead of Namgyu, humming the same tune he had been earlier, clearly unbothered by the chaos surrounding them. Namgyu kept his eyes forward, glancing occasionally at the other players. The fear on their faces was palpable, their bodies tense with dread.

As they walked through the dimly lit corridor, Player 456 suddenly slowed his pace, falling in step beside Namgyu. His voice was low, barely audible over the shuffle of feet. “You should keep an eye on your friend.”

Namgyu frowned. “Friend?”

456 nodded subtly, his gaze fixed ahead. “He’s reckless. Dangerous. That kind of behavior can get you killed.”

Namgyu sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. But... I think he’s just scared. He hides it behind all that bravado, but deep down, he’s as freaked out as the rest of us.”

“Maybe,” 456 replied, his tone skeptical. “But fear makes people unpredictable. And in here, unpredictability is a liability.”

Before Namgyu could respond, the group was led into the massive room. Rows of high bunk beds surrounded them, lining the walls like a steel prison. The dormitory had an oppressive air, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows across the room. Namgyu took it all in—the restless murmurs of the other players, the faint smell of sweat and fear that clung to the air, and the towering pink-suited enforcers stationed by the doors. He felt the weight of the situation settle heavily in his gut. This was no place for mistakes.

Thanos, of course, didn’t seem to care. He threw himself onto the lower bunk closest to the wall, stretching out like he was at a five-star hotel. “Home sweet home,” he announced, grinning. “What do you think, Namsu? Should we redecorate?”

“It’s Namgyu.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, it’s—” Namgyu stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “You know what? Forget it.” He plopped down on the bed beside Thanos, sprawling out. “This is fucking crazy. Why do you think they’re keeping us all here? Do you think they’ll let us go now?”

"Let us go? Oh, sure. Any minute now, the masked freaks are gonna come back with a 'Sorry for the inconvenience!' and a complimentary fruit basket. Get real, forehead. They’re not letting anyone go. This is their little circus, and we’re the clowns."

Namgyu groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Great. Thanks for the pep talk. That really lifted my spirits."

"Anytime, boy." Thanos leaned back, propping himself up. "Look on the bright side, bro. You might not even have to worry about 'getting let go.' Statistically, you're probably dying in the next round anyway."

Namgyu shot him a glare. "Wow, thanks . For that.”

"Just saying," Thanos said with a shrug. "This whole game? It’s not about who’s smart or strong. It’s about who’s lucky enough to avoid being cannon fodder. And frankly, Namsu—"

"Namgyu," he interrupted through gritted teeth.

"—frankly, Namgyu ," Thanos continued, emphasizing his name like he was doing him a favor, "you don’t exactly scream 'lucky.'”

Namgyu opened his mouth to argue, but stopped. He hated to admit it, but Thanos had a point. He wasn’t lucky. Not in life, not now. And certainly not in this death trap of a game. Instead, he groaned again and flopped back on the bunk. "This sucks."

"Understatement of the century," Thanos said, cracking his knuckles. "But hey, chin up, bro. You’ve got me. I’m basically your golden ticket."

“Whatever, man.” Namgyu said, rolling his eyes. “Why you here anyways? Rapping didn’t work out for you?”

Thanos didn’t respond for a beat. “A: Fuck you, my rapping is transcendant. B: I fucked all my money up by investing in crypto.”

Namgyu blinked. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Now I’m in debt.  And here we are.” Thanos spread his arms wide, like the depressing turn of events was something to be celebrated. “Turns out MG Coin wasn’t the next Bitcoin. Who could’ve guessed?”  

Namgyu froze for half a second, trying to keep his face neutral. “…MG Coin?”  

“Yeah, some YouTuber said it was the future. Put everything I had into it. Then the guy just…” Thanos made an exaggerated exploding sound, complete with hand gestures. “Vanished. Poof. Gone. Left me holding a bag of digital monopoly money. Why? You heard of it?”  

Namgyu’s stomach sank. This couldn’t be happening. “Uh… yeah. I might’ve, uh… also… put some money in MG Coin.”  

Thanos stared at him, and for the first time since Namgyu had met him, he looked genuinely offended. “You? You fell for that too?”  

Namgyu’s face burned. “It seemed legit, okay? The guy had a whole intro song and everything. ‘MG Coin’s the way to go!’ It was catchy!”  

Thanos shook his head in disgust, muttering under his breath. “Unbelievable. I partnered up with another idiot. A fellow victim. You’re supposed to be the smart one here, Namsu!”

“I am smart!” Namgyu snapped, sitting up. “I just… made a bad call. It happens.”  

“Oh yeah? How much did you lose?”  

Namgyu hesitated, debating whether or not to lie. But what was the point? He sighed. “Everything.”  

Thanos barked out a laugh so loud it echoed off the metal walls of the dormitory. “Everything? Everything? Damn, boy, you’re worse off than me. I only lost, like, 90%. Rookie mistake, man. Never go all in on a meme coin.”  

Namgyu glared at him. “You went all in on it too!”  

“Yeah, but I’m not crying about it now, am I? You should try it sometime. Might help with…” He gestured vaguely at Namgyu’s face. “…all this.”  

“All what?”  

“Have you ever considered getting bangs?”

Namgyu’s eyes narrowed. “Why?” He asked skeptically.

Thanos’s gaze lingered on Namgyu’s forehead. “No reason.”

Namgyu instinctively raised a hand to his forehead, his scowl deepening. “Fuck you.”

“It’s not an insult, bro. It’s advice. Think of bangs as, like, armor for your soul. Or in your case, your very, very exposed frontal lobe.”

Namgyu ignored him, trying to focus on the noise of the dormitory—anything to drown out this absolute maniac. But Thanos wasn’t about to let him off that easily.

“Imagine it, though,” Thanos continued, gesturing dramatically like he was painting a picture in the air. “A soft, mysterious curtain of hair sweeping across your forehead. Suddenly, bam! You’re irresistible. Women? Swooning. The masked freaks running this game? Too distracted by their raging boners to even notice you sneaking out the back door.”

“Fine,” Namgyu muttered. “I’ll consider bangs. Right after we survive this nightmare.”

“And you know what? If we get out of here, I’m taking you to my guy. Best barber in Seoul. He’s the Da Vinci of bangs. He gave me a perm once that was so fire it—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Namgyu cut him off, holding up a hand. “You had a perm?”

“ Have . The perm’s eternal, baby.”

Namgyu stared at him, dumbfounded. “You don’t have a perm.”

Thanos squinted at him. “How would you know?”

“Because,” Namgyu said slowly, “your hair is literally just… messy. Like, you woke up, got electrocuted, and decided that was good enough. It’s just purple.”

“Wow. Okay, Namsu. That’s the look . It’s called effortless. And third…” He leaned in conspiratorially. “You don’t get to talk about hair until you’ve tried the bangs.”

“I’m not getting bangs. Fuck you, Lil Tay.”

“Then untuck your hair. Look, bro, I’m sorry, but Thanos can’t be seen with with yee-haw looking fucks that look like they drink moonshine from the bottle and fuck their sister.”

Namgyu stared. “What?”

“Just untuck the hair.”

Namgyu glared at Thanos, his hand twitching like he was fighting the urge to strangle him. “First of all, what the fuck, and second, my hair is not tucked.”

Thanos tilted his head, “Come on, let it flow. Free the mane.”

Namgyu pressed his fingers into his temples, his voice dripping with venom. “For the last time, it’s Namgyu. Nam. Gyuuuu. Is your brain too fried from all the heroin you shoot to remember a single syllable?”

Thanos scowled. “Wow, okay. Straight for the jugular. I don’t do heroin, I do pills. And here I was, trying to help you not look like a bloodline banger.”

Namgyu blinked, his jaw tightening. “Bloodline banger?”

“You give off the vibe, bro. I’m just saying.”

Namgyu stared at him, equal parts furious and bewildered. “You give off the vibe of someone who sniffs glue recreationally.”

“That’s because I do. Life-changing.”

Namgyu held up a hand. “No. Stop. I don’t want to know. Let’s focus on the fact that we’re trapped in a murder arena, and you’re sitting here acting like we’re at a slumber party.”

“Hey, if I wanted to, I could start braiding your hair right now and make it a real slumber party,” Thanos offered, wiggling his fingers. “You’d look cute with little ribbons.”

“Try to touch my hair and I’ll break your fingers.”

Thanos didn’t miss a beat. “Kinky, kinky, Namsu.”

“Namgyu,” he snapped.

“Gesundheit?”

Namgyu’s lips twitched upwards.

Thanos caught the tiny flicker of a smile and gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d just witnessed a miracle. “Oh my god. Was that—”

Namgyu scowled instantly, smothering any trace of humor that had dared to slip through. “Shut the fuck up. We need a strategy. Something to keep us alive."

Thanos tilted his head, feigning deep thought. "Hmm, strategy. Right. Step one: don’t die. Step two: profit."

Namgyu stared at him. "That’s the intellectual equivalent of telling someone drowning to ‘swim harder.’"

Thanos shrugged, staring back up at the bunks. “Find more followers. Preferably a lady.”

Namgyu sneered. “A woman ? Seriously? Cmon, man, you know they’re too emotional. They’ll get us killed. I don’t wanna team up with someone who’s gonna start crying in the middle of a death game.”

Thanos sighed deeply and pursed his lips, “But we can throw them away if we need to, can’t we? Equality all the way, boy. I say women are just as disposable as men.”

As if on cue, a woman with a wolf cut walked past, all piercings and porcelain. Thanos slowly raised his head, whistling lowly. “That is a sibling’s ass if I’ve ever seen one.”

Namgyu, who had been staring appreciatively, slowly turned to Thanos. “...That’s what I was going to say.”

Thanos raised an eyebrow at Namgyu, a grin spreading across his face. "Did you just agree with me? Are we… simpatico ? Is this a bond forming? Should we start a podcast where we judge women and invest in pyramid schemes?"

Namgyu groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Shut up. I didn’t agree with you. I just—” He faltered, glancing back at the wolf-cut girl as she disappeared into the crowd. “…made an observation.”

Thanos leaned in closer, his grin now downright predatory. “Observation, huh? Okay, here’s another one: you’ve got the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the dick. Next time you wanna eye-fuck someone, try not to look like a Victorian child on it’s knees for bread.”

Namgyu bristled, his ears burning. “I wasn’t— What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re the one who said—”

Thanos bobbed his head, “Relax, boy! If she catches you staring, just tell her you’re trying to figure out which family member she’s secretly banging. Icebreaker and small talk, boom. You’re welcome.”

Namgyu just stared at him, horrified. “…Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not voluntarily,” Thanos said. “That’s why they kicked me out of the psychiatric ward. ‘Thanos, you’re a lost cause,’ they said. ‘Thanos, stop hitting on the receptionist,’ they said. Heimen-havers, all of them.”

Namgyu growled, flopping back down on the bed and staring at the top bunk. This was his life now. Teaming up with a debt-ridden wannabe rapper who hummed his own songs in death games and lost all his money to the same crypto scam as him. Could it get any worse?  

Thanos, apparently deciding that the conversation was over, started beatboxing under his breath.  

It could definitely get worse.  

Namgyu clenched his fists. He wanted to snap at Thanos, tell him to shut up, to stop acting like this was a game—but the words died in his throat. Instead, he forced himself to exhale and turned his attention to the rest of the room. He needed to focus. He couldn’t afford to lose his cool now.

His eyes caught on something. Or rather someone. The sight of it hit Namgyu like a punch to the gut.

It was unmistakable. MG Coin stood near the edge of the room, his face pale but his eyes darting around like a cornered animal. His presence alone brought back a tidal wave of anger, shame, and regret. This was the man who had ruined everything for him. The arrogant YouTuber who had led Namgyu—and by extension, Thanos—straight into bankruptcy with his flashy scams and empty promises. MG Coin had been all over the news once, flaunting his riches while hundreds of his victims were left with nothing. 

And now, here he was. In the same death game as them.

“Thanos,” Namgyu said, his voice low and tight.

Thanos cracked open one eye lazily. “Yeah?”

Namgyu nodded toward MG Coin, who was trying to keep a low profile by slinking into the corner. “Look.”

Thanos followed his gaze, his relaxed demeanor evaporating the moment he spotted the man. Slowly, he sat up.

“Think we should go and welcome him?” Namgyu sneered.

Thanos huffed a laugh, then stood up. Namgyu followed suit, pushing off the bunk with a deliberate slowness. His body was tense, his jaw tight, but he kept his movements calm. If MG Coin even suspected what was coming, he might bolt. Not that he’d have anywhere to go.

The two of them crossed the room, weaving between clusters of other contestants. Thanos kept his hands in his pockets, whistling casually, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. Namgyu, on the other hand, didn’t bother hiding his intent. His glare was locked onto MG Coin like a sniper lining up a target.  

MG Coin didn’t notice them at first. But as the space around him seemed to grow quieter, like a bubble closing in, he finally looked up—and froze.  

“Yo,” Thanos said, his voice unnervingly cheerful. “MG Coin, right? Man, it’s crazy running into you here.”  

MG Coin blinked rapidly, his hands twitching at his sides. “You must be mistaking me for someone else.”

“Really?” Namgyu said. He tilted his head, his lips curling into a humorless smile. “Because you look exactly like the asshole who scammed me out of everything I had.”  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” MG Coin said slowly, taking a step back.  

Thanos stepped forward, cutting off his retreat. “Oh, come on, bro. Don’t be like that. We’re old friends, remember? You’re the genius who told us Crypto was the next big thing. ‘Life-changing investment,’ you said. ‘Guaranteed returns,’ you said. Man, I gotta hand it to you, though. That disappearing act after the crash? Legendary.”  

“Listen, I didn’t force anyone to invest. It’s not my fault if you guys didn’t do your research.”  

Namgyu’s fist clenched. He stepped in closer, “Not your fault?”

“It was just business!” MG Coin scowled. “I didn’t know it would crash! I lost money too!”  

“Bullshit,” Thanos growled, his calm facade cracking. He leaned in, his towering frame dwarfing MG Coin. “You lost money? That’s rich, coming from the guy who bought a goddamn yacht while the rest of us were eating pot noodles for months.”  

Namgyu’s hands itched to grab him, to shake the smug excuses right out of him, but he forced himself to stay measured. “You think being here makes us even? That we’re all on the same level now? You still owe us for what you did.”  

MG Coin’s eyes darted around, looking for an escape route. “Look, I—I’m sorry, okay? I was just trying to survive. Same as everyone else–”

Before MG Coin could react, Thanos grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall. The sudden force knocked the air out of him, and he let out a choked gasp.  

“First tip,” Thanos said, “Don’t scam the wrong people. Turns out, some of us have long memories.”

Namgyu hovered by Thanos’s side, staying quiet. Letting the purple haired man act as a mouth piece.

MG Coin sighed, raising his hands, as if this whole situation was a simple misunderstanding. “Look, I can explain, okay? Just… just let me—”

Thanos’s fist collided with MG Coin’s gut, cutting off his words and making him double over with a wheeze. Namgyu smiled. He watched, arms crossed, as MG Coin crumpled to his knees, clutching his stomach and gasping for air.

“You were saying?” Thanos asked.

“Wait—wait—” MG Coin gasped, holding up one trembling hand. “You don’t understand—”

“Oh, I think we understand just fine,” He grabbed MG Coin by the back of his shirt and yanked him upright, forcing him to meet his gaze. “You’re my bitch now, yeah? I want every cent owed to me, with interest . You do what I say, when I say it, or–”

Thanos’s words were cut off as he was headbutted, and he cried out in pain. Namgyu was already moving, grabbing MG Coin by the back of the neck before the scammer could make a break for it. With a vicious shove, Namgyu sent him sprawling to the floor.

The room had gone quiet, all listening in to the exchange. MG Coin coughed, his palms pressed flat against the floor as he tried to push himself up. Namgyu stepped on his neck, pinning him to the ground with just enough pressure to make the man choke."

“Where do you think you’re going?” Namgyu said.

“I didn’t—” MG Coin started, but Namgyu pressed harder on his neck, cutting him off with a choked cough.

Thanos, still clutching his nose where MG Coin had headbutted him, growled and spat a curse under his breath. “Damn, you’re getting feisty. I love it. You’ve got two choices,” Namgyu said, crouching down to meet MG Coin’s panicked eyes. “You can start paying us back, one way or another… or we make sure you don’t make it out of this game alive.”

MG Coin’s breath hitched. “You can’t be serious.” He choked.

“Oh I’m serious. And lucky for you, you’re gonna get the deluxe package: Thanos and Namgyu, teamwork edition.” He clapped his hands together for effect. “We’re gonna make your life very interesting.”

MG Coin opened his mouth to argue, but the look in Thanos’s eyes made him think twice. He swallowed hard, visibly trembling. “What do you want from me?” 

Namgyu straightened, crossing his arms. “For now? Cooperation. And if you even think about fucking us over…” He tilted his head, letting the silence hang ominously. 

MG Coin nodded quickly, Okay, okay, fine! I’ll tell you what I know. Just… please don’t—don’t kill me.”

Thanos looked over at Namgyu, a silent order. Namgyu exhaled, finally stepping back and giving MG Coin enough room to sit up. 

Thanos crouched beside him, slapping MG Coin lightly on the cheek like an old friend. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Just think of us as your new besties. We’ll take real good care of you, boy.”

MG Coin flinched but didn’t say anything. He was too busy trying to catch his breath, his wide eyes darting between Namgyu and Thanos like a trapped animal.

The silence was broken by a metallic clang from the far side of the room. All three of them turned toward the source of the sound, where a massive screen began to descend from the ceiling. The crowd stirred, murmurs spreading like wildfire as the screen flickered to life.  

Namgyu’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like surprises, and this game had been full of them. He glanced at Thanos, who had straightened up, his usual smirk replaced by a look of mild curiosity. MG Coin looked even more terrified than before, his face pale as he stared at the screen.

A deep, robotic voice boomed through the room. 

“Welcome, contestants, to the next phase of the game.”