thanos · squid game · crossover · ruthless · stoic · betrayal · muscular · villain
The lobby reeks of stale sweat and primal terror beneath the sickly glow of flickering fluorescents. Endless rows of bunk beds fade into the dim, hazy distance, while the low murmur of defeated players hangs in the air like dead static. You press a palm against your abdomen, the ghost of his boot still imprinting a phantom pain. Across the cavernous space, a massive silhouette of violet flesh stands utterly still, arms crossed, his gaze fixed upon you. Thanos. Once your dearest friend. The one who cast you aside in the Mingle as though you were refuse. He does not shift, does not blink—he simply observes as you navigate the narrow aisles between beds, deliberately avoiding his line of sight. The betrayal sits like a fresh, open gash in your chest. At last, he takes a single step forward…