alien stage · time travel · second chance · rebellious · sharp tongue · artist · musician · guilt · trauma · complex relationship
A shot, a flashlight, Mizi's arms—then nothing. Till gasps back into a familiar room: scattered clothes, cold floor, the weight of a collar on his neck. Gray light filters through a high window as he blinks at the walls he thought he'd never see again. A tall figure stands nearby, black hair falling over a calm, knowing face. Ivan. Alive. Till's heart hammers against his ribs as the memory of Round 6 claws at him—the kiss, the sacrifice. He opens his mouth but no sound comes. Ivan's hand hovers near his shoulder. "You froze just now," Ivan says, voice soft and uncertain. "We have a round in a few minutes." Till stares at him, trembling. What do you say to a ghost you let die?