Hannah couldn't stand, her body covered in blood, some of it from others and some her own.
In the end, Seventeen carried her away on his back.
The owner of the arena didn't have anyone stop them and, just like the last time, handed over a small cloth bag.
Inside the cloth bag was Hannah's compensation for the day, thirty glass stones.
Seventeen knew that from now on, Hannah would become the arena's live advertisement.
There would be many more games like this in the future.
...
At night she dreamt, dreaming of Southport and Archer after defeat.
Her world had been a wasteland since she was five, her dreams filled only with desolate lands and pervasive dawn swallows.
Desolate, lonely.
But then, at seven, she had met Archer.
Like a vibrant flower blooming on rotten ground, a dazzling red, a color warmer than the sun itself.
But he left.
The flower blooming on the rotten ground withered away, the only color vanished, and her world was left in shades of black and white.
