Just Not just became a little bit smaller. Again. Again.
Losing a loved one, someone you actually care about beyond superficial things like having to work together to win a competition, is already a tough enough job to pull off; saying goodbye always seems to be the hardest thing, even if you know that they're *probably* gonna come back eventually and that it isn't *really* the end. It's just hard to let go, is all. One can get used to having the same old faces greet them each and every single day, saying hello and talking to them about how their day has been. One can have all these memories of them doing so much, having a lot of fun, not caring a single thing about what anyone thinks or what the possible consequences are. One could recall them being there for them whenever the going gets tough, being a shoulder to cry on whenever it *really* counts. Even if you're guaranteed that they *will* return at some point, that this isn't goodbye forever, it can still be a pain past a certain point. Friendship is one of the most important things one has to hold onto in this bleak, desolate Earth, and people will stop at *nothing* to prevent themselves from letting go, even if it ends up hurting them.
But then the Battle for Dream Island suddenly shows up, arrives out of the blue, and declares that not only do they have to go through this whole song and dance, but they also have to do so *repeatedly*, with each and every one of those they hold dear in their hearts getting methodically kicked out one by one, sent to some absurd, ridiculous prison beyond all comprehension and logic. *And* they also have to do this while making sure the same thing doesn't end up happening to them, giving the contest their 101% in order to stay in the game, to make sure they aren't one of the teams destined for this horrible fate. And that isn't even getting started on the fact that the news of your inevitable loss tends to arrive long, *long* before it actually happens. As a result, the teams at risk end up stuck in this weird sort of state where they're unable to feel good or happy about *anything*. Any day could be their last, all of a sudden that algebralian could appear and declare you next in line for disappearing into... *Wherever*. They don't even know where the eliminated end up going! They could be dead, for all they knew!
When confronted with such a ridiculous and asinine scenario, anyone with common sense and reason would be quick to decry it for what it is: yet another example of cruelty and harshness of a cold and indifferent universe, one which allows its conscious inhabitants to be subjected to such torture and misery without batting a proverbial eye, not caring whatsoever whether or not the gift of life is extinguished, forcibly removed before its time. It can make one sad. It can make one mad. It can make one feel... all sorts of things. Behind the scenes, the contestants of the Battle for Dream Island and its derivatives have argued on and on about the merits of the whole thing, on whether or not some island or some intangible concept is truly worthy of being forced to endure this pain over and over again.
And yet... These complaints end up never making it to the airwaves. Never. The prize is simply too alluring. The competition too distracting. It doesn't really take long until someone gets the bright idea to do something else entirely just to take their mind off the pain, or the conversation gets too existential and dreadful for their liking, and the band of would-be rebels end up throwing it all aside and decide to compete for another day. After years and years of the same thing every episode, they've refined this art down to a tee; one can look at their bestest friends get removed from reality and barely flinch. They might become upset about it in the moment, sure, but immediately afterwards the numeral would announce the next contest, and that would end up being the next topic of their fixation. Then maybe they end up winning and they finally get some time to relax, and so they do that. Or maybe they end up losing, and they end up worrying about who's gonna get the boot next. And then the next episode happens. And then the one after that. And so on. And so forth. Ad nauseam.
