What other choice do I have but to dance to his tune?

The colosseum door groans open, and I’m hit with a sensory overload. Blinding spotlights sear my retinas, while the electronic whirs of camera drones assault my ears. The stench of sweat and something metallic—maybe blood?—makes my stomach churn. I squint, trying to adjust to the brightness, and spot a swarm of drones hovering above. Their mechanical sensors track my every move, reminding me that this isn’t just a fight for survival—it’s entertainment for the intergalactic masses.

I squint against the harsh glare, willing my eyes to adjust. As the spots fade from my vision, my stomach plummets. Two familiar figures stand at opposite ends of the arena, and I gasp.

Krakenos and Vornas.

Krakenos looms like a blue mountain, his muscular form glistening under the lights. Across from him, Vornas prowls with feline grace, his striped fur the opposite of Krakenos’s smooth skin. Both sets of alien eyes lock onto me, and I know in my gut that my usual escape tactic—running—won’t cut it here.

Back home, I could outpace most anyone on the track, but faced with these alien warriors?

I’m really not sure how I’m going to get out of this one.

The Host’s demeanor shifts instantly as a red light blinks on one of the hovering drones. His voice booms, suddenly amplified to reach an unseen audience. “Welcome back to Loop Run, where our contestants battle it out for freedom and their chosen mate!”

I can practically feel the energy crackling through the air as millions of alien viewers tune in across the galaxy. The Host’s feathers rustle with barely contained excitement, and he leans in close to a camera drone, as if sharing a juicy secret with the audience. “This season, we have a twist that will keep you on the edge of your seats!”

The Host’s feathers quiver with excitement as he gestures dramatically, his metal claws glinting under the harsh lights. “Our mighty warriors have made their preferences clear. And so, this season, the remaining competitors will have to complete a certain challenge.”

My stomach twists into knots, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin.

This can’t be good.

“Krakenos,” the Host purrs, his voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Your task is to capture Mia and protect her throughout the run. You must reach the finish line with her by your side. Fail, and you will lose your chance with her forever.”

I glance at Krakenos, watching a muscle twitch in his sleek blue cheek. His black eyes bore into mine, unreadable and intense. A chill comes over me, and I can’t tell if it’s from fear or something else entirely. Despite the alien features that should repulse me, there’s an undeniable magnetism about him that I’m struggling to ignore.

“As for you, Vornas.” The Host’s beak parts into a wide grin, revealing rows of sharp teeth. “Your preferred female is none other than the elusive Chloe. But, if you want any chance with her, you must first capture Mia and bring her to the finish line. Only then will you be able to exchange her for your chosen mate.”

Krakenos and Vornas’s gazes press down on me, and I find it suddenly hard to breathe. Something shifts in their postures, a predatory tension rippling through their muscles.

I see the gears turning in their minds as they size me up, already plotting their strategies. Krakenos’s eyes narrow, his sleek blue form coiling with barely contained energy. Vornas’s tail twitches, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he flexes his claws. The air crackles with their competing intentions, and I’m caught in the middle, struggling to draw in a full breath under the intensity of their focus.

“And remember,” the Host adds, his voice carrying a false note of regret, “if either of you fail this time, you won’t be given another chance. So, who will emerge victorious? Will Krakenos finally capture the female he has longed for, or will Vornas snatch her away and secure his own future?”

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to be sick. My eyes, almost of their own accord, drift back to Krakenos. What I see there catches me off guard.

In the inky depths of his gaze, something soft flickers—a spark of… is that concern? The unexpected glimpse of emotion sends my mind reeling. My heart skips a beat, and I find myself reassessing the blue-skinned alien before me. His intimidating exterior suddenly seems at odds with that fleeting look of… what? Compassion? Understanding?

I bite my lip, a war waging inside me. Am I reading too much into this? Or have I been too quick to write him off based on his alien appearance and our fucked-up circumstances?

Gritting my teeth, I force those traitorous thoughts aside. This isn’t the time to play amateur psychologist or start empathizing with my potential captors. Sure, these warriors might not be the puppet masters pulling the strings, but that doesn’t make them any less dangerous. I need to keep my wits about me, stay alive, and figure out how the hell I’m going to escape this nightmare.

The Host’s voice booms, his words echoing off the colosseum walls. “Mia will now be absconded to the middle of the first biome! Our warriors will start the race from here. Let the games begin!”

A transport pod descends from the sky, its metallic surface gleaming under the harsh artificial lights. The Host ushers me inside, his clawed hand surprisingly gentle on the small of my back. “Good luck, female. You’ll need it.”

And with that, the door seals shut, enveloping me in darkness. The viewscreen is blank, offering no hint of my destination. My throat tightens as the pod lifts off, the sudden weightlessness making my stomach lurch.

The flight is short, but every second stretches on forever. When the pod finally lands, I hesitate, my hand hovering over the door release. Taking a deep breath, I step out into… a nightmare.

I’m in a swamp, but not like any I’ve ever seen. Towering mushrooms loom overhead, their caps wide enough to shield a small village from the rain. The air is thick with a cloying, sickly sweet scent that makes my head spin, and I clap a hand over my mouth when I notice a swirl of spores, trying not to breathe them in. The ground beneath my feet squelches, and I realize with a jolt of fear that it’s not just mud—it’s a muck pit, eager to pull me under.

I have to move. Now.

I weave through the towering mushrooms, my eyes darting across the treacherous landscape for any semblance of solid ground. Each footfall is a risk, the muck beneath me threatening to swallow me whole. A patch of iridescent foliage catches my eye, its beauty almost hypnotic, but I give it a wide berth. In this alien swamp, even the prettiest things could be deadly.

My lungs burn as I push myself forward, driven by a single, desperate thought: keep moving. Distance is my only ally against the warriors hunting me. Whatever horrors this swamp holds, they can’t be worse than what awaits if I’m caught.

I launch myself over a writhing vine, its surface glistening with what I can only assume is digestive fluid. My ragged gasps echo in my ears as the oppressive humidity clings to my skin. Sweat trickles down my back, soaking into the leather of my ridiculous, impractical outfit.

A rustle in the undergrowth stops me cold, my heart thundering against my ribs. I strain to hear past the rush of blood in my ears, every muscle tense and ready to bolt.

I shoot a venomous glare at the sleek drone hovering nearby, its unblinking eye capturing my every stumble and gasp. My fingers twitch with the urge to swat it out of the air, but I know it’s pointless. The thing isn’t here to help—it’s just another cruel reminder that my suffering is nothing more than entertainment for some twisted audience. I can almost hear their laughter as I struggle through this nightmare, and it makes my blood boil.

Suddenly, a vine-like tendril shoots out from behind a mushroom, wrapping around my ankle. I yelp, trying to yank my foot free, but the plant’s grip is like iron. More tendrils emerge, reaching for me with hungry, grasping ends.

I look around frantically for something, anything I can use to defend myself. My eyes land on a sturdy-looking branch, and I lunge for it, my fingers closing around the rough bark as I snap it off and start whacking at the vines, feeling them shudder and recoil with each blow. Finally, they release their grip, and I stumble back, gasping for breath.

Jesus. And I’ve only been here for a couple of minutes.

I can’t stay put. I need to keep moving. But which way should I go? The swamp seems to stretch out in every direction, an endless sea of green, purple, and brown.

There’s no time. I pick a direction at random and start running, my feet slipping and sliding in the muck. Spores tickle my throat, and I clamp my mouth shut, fighting the urge to cough. Each shallow breath is a battle, the noxious air threatening to choke me with every step.

As I stumble through the swamp, my mind races. The last thing I need right now is to round a corner and come face-to-face with Krakenos’s emotionless black eyes or Vornas’s predatory grin. My heart pounds, not just from exertion, but from the constant fear of what—or who—might be lurking in the shadows of this alien hellscape.

I groan and keep moving, trying not to think about it.

I’m not letting this biome or those warriors have me.

Not without a fight.

Chapter 4

Krakenos

I move through the swamp with lethal grace, my body cleaving the murky water effortlessly. This alien terrain poses no challenge; I’ve conquered far deadlier environments on Mythos. Every ripple, every rustle, every distant cry resonates through my heightened senses, painting a vivid map of my surroundings. Each detail is a breadcrumb, leading me inexorably to her.

Mia.

I keep moving. The swamp is a maze of hidden perils, but I am its master. My body, honed by generations of evolution, moves with fluid precision. I navigate effortlessly, leaping from solid ground to solid ground, avoiding the hungry mire that would claim lesser beings.

Then I spot them—delicate impressions in the soft mud.

Mia’s footprints.