🏆 WATTPAD CREATORS PROGRAM 🏆
𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘌𝘌. 𝘛𝘞𝘖. 𝘖𝘕𝘌. 𝘙𝘶𝘯.
Thirteen must do one thing: escape. With the game taking a different course, he has to deal with his previous allies who are now out for a taste of his blood. As secrets, betrayals...
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If it wasn't through the small shaft of light, Thirteen wouldn't have found the bug. He had been at it since morning, squinting at the dark and tapping on his portable screen as fast as his padded fingers would allow. A sigh flitted out of his lips. He wasn't one for sentiments, but he couldn't deny he missed the comforts of the command center.
The bleak truth now settled on him as he set his screen aside. The back of his head knocked against the tarp covering his dingy hideout. It wasn't even a full week since the first part of the game concluded and a new one immediately started. In a span of days, he had to conceal most of his activities from the rest of Section M, find a place to catch a few hours of sleep, and work out a way to survive this period without...well, dying.
It was bad enough that he wasn't given a functional ability in the first three quarters of the Game. Now, he had to juggle mastering his "stolen" abilities, unearthing everything the Game's supervisor hid from him, and fighting his able-bodied ex-comrades who knew everything about him and had an inkling about how he thought.
Worse, he had no one but himself to rely on. It dealt an enormous blow to his calculations. So much so that he scrapped the original models and started anew. It took a hefty few hours, but it was better than nothing. The next days were spent fortifying this hovel he found in the middle of the Northern region. Most of his ex-comrades lounged in the Western and Eastern regions. Some popped up in the Central region for a bit before moving to the South. It would be a while before any of them thought of looking for him. And when they did, he'd better be ready.
Hence the primary reason for choosing a nondescript building out of the thousands in this part of town. Apart from the randomness, he ensured the beams looked as if they were crumbling down and the joists, as if they were caving in. Nobody would think twice about not hanging out in this complex. Upon doing the calculations, he had better chances of weathering every day inside an unstable structure. At least here, he wouldn't be killed on sight if he poked a foot out.
The decrepit building could have been an apartment complex in its prime. In a haste to redevelop it to something else, it was left hanging when something happened to the city as a whole. History—another one of his must-knows. Would the chips betray even what happened to the residents of this city? Intriguing.
Since the redevelopment was halted by some magical reason, Thirteen found leftover construction materials, and much to his relief, some brittle and crinkly tarps. Yet another full day was dedicated to shaping his fort while making the least noise and movements in case someone passed by from the sky. And soon, he holed up inside a blue tent, held up by bolts drilled into the nearest beams. From the outside perspective, the fortress resembled a second floor that caved in and was covered to hide the wreck.
It was perfect.
Thirteen now had a space for himself, away from prying eyes and hopefully, his enemies. Just yesterday, he sat down with himself and assessed his situation. His inventory, too. A gun with nine rounds left, his portable screen with a stark crack in the sides, and four ability chips. Karrel did a number on most of them during their altercation. A real shame, having lost Caden and Ikerne's abilities. Three's and a couple others weren't spared either.
