The cold of the tunnel wrapped around Aron like a cloak of ice. Each breath burned his lungs. His legs shook with exhaustion, but he forced himself forward. Behind him, he could still hear the screams and crackling fires of Sun City.
His home. His people. All gone.
No. Not gone, he told himself. Not if I live. Not if I fight.
The tunnel led him deep under the land. The walls dripped with water. Rats scurried past his boots. He stumbled, falling to his knees, hands scraping against sharp stones.
For a moment, he wanted to give up. To let the dark take him. But the memory of Tomas, loyal Tomas, filled his mind. The look in his friend's eyes as the arrow struck him.
Tomas died for me. I must live for him.
---
At last, the tunnel opened into a cave. Moonlight shone through a crack in the ceiling. Aron sank to the ground, gasping for air.
He looked up at the night sky. The stars seemed cold, uncaring.
"My father is dead. My city is dead," Aron whispered. "But I am not. I swear by the stars and the gods, I will rise. I will return. I will bring down the man in the mask."
His voice echoed in the emptiness.
From the shadows, a figure stepped forward. A girl, no older than him. Her dark hair hung loose. A worn cloak covered her thin frame. In her hand, she held a small dagger.
"Who are you?" Aron demanded, though his voice was weak.
The girl raised the blade. "I should ask you the same. These caves are no place for lords."
"I'm no lord. Not anymore," Aron said bitterly.
The girl's eyes softened. She lowered the dagger. "You're from Sun City."
"Yes," Aron said. "Or what's left of it."
The girl nodded. "I'm Lina. I came looking for food. The city's fall has driven people mad. I saw men fighting over scraps."
Aron struggled to stand. "Then we'll fight together. I must reach the outer lands. The Puppet Master will hunt me."
Lina hesitated. Then she offered her hand. "Then I'll guide you. I know these lands. But we move at dawn. You need rest."
---
As Aron lay on the cold ground, his body aching, his mind burned with one thought:
The game is not over. It has only begun.
---
Meanwhile, in the ruins of Sun City, Jaren stood at the broken window of the palace. The fires had died down, leaving only smoke and ruin.
A soldier approached, head bowed.
"My lord, the boy has fled beyond the city. Shall we give chase?"
Jaren shook his head. "No. Let him run. Let him build hope. The greater the hope, the sweeter the fall."
He turned to the soldier, eyes hard behind his mask.
"Send word to the lords of the south. The Puppet Master claims the throne. The kingdom of ash is mine now."
And so, the game moved into its next stage.