GLADIATOR | ELYSIUM RISING 1 ✔️

⍢ | 5

Iggy quickly adjusted to life on the Chyron.

Three days, give or take, had concluded since he was taken from Novr. Most of his days were spent worrying about his mother. There was no one to look after her now he was gone. How would she pay their rent? How would she get refills for her medication?

He had to get back to her.

The only way that was happening was if he survived the arena on Elysium.

He sighed and continued his journey down one of the various corridors throughout the mazy prison vessel. During his frequent walks, he developed a decent gauge of how things worked inside. Certain areas were off-limits, either because they were only accessible via scanners or because a clique of prisoners claimed it.

Either way, Iggy made it a point to steer clear of places he wasn't welcome.

He opted to walk aimlessly down the halls while occasionally stopping at the cafeteria for his meals. He made sure not to speak to anyone, stare at anyone, or do anything to upset anyone. His goal was to be as invisible as possible. The ship was already full of people being sent to fight for their lives for the entertainment of Elysians; he didn't need to add to their anxieties and pent-up aggression.

Today's particular walk was motivated by his search for the stranger with the rebel tattoo.

He hadn't seen the old man since his first day on the ship. Like a ghost, he had vanished. Perhaps he was laying low too.

Iggy had a knack for finding things that didn't want to be found, though. If the old man was hiding, he'd find him eventually.

His search would have to wait until after breakfast, though. The morning alarm had just gone off, meaning the cafeteria was open for the first meal of the day. If he wanted to get a good seat inside, he needed to get there early.

Iggy turned on his heel and jogged in the direction of the cafeteria.

He arrived a few minutes later. A line had started to form outside the large room. It was spacious like an auditorium, easily able to fit a few hundred people. Metal tables with low benches were placed in rigid rows along the tiled floor. At the front was the food counter. Behind it was the kitchen, manned by androids in black uniforms. Their neon yellow eyes—proof of their ownership by empire—shone brightly as they prepared breakfast for the Chyron's temporary cargo.

Iggy learned that Slavs weren't permitted to work on ships like prison vessels. The Elysian Empire preferred their living workers on the ground or in their palaces.

He had been a Slav since birth. Most of the people residing in empire-owned settlements were technically the property of the Elysian Empire. The status of a Slav wasn't permanent, though. With enough credits, anyone could buy their way out of it.

Iggy could only dream of seeing that many credits.

But if you win the games...

Scowling, he shuffled along with the line inching inside the cafeteria. He did his best not to get his hopes up, but the longer he spent on the ship, the more he couldn't help himself. His dreams and fantasies occasionally got the best of him. At night, he pictured himself standing in the middle of the arena as the crowd chanted his name.

It would only ever be a dream.

Like he told Commander Au Victorus, he wouldn't last a day in there.

Iggy arrived at the front of the food line. An android flashed its perfect teeth at him.

"Good morning, Iggorii Amrada," they chirped. "What can I get you today?"

Rubbing his tired eyes, he squinted at the glowing menu on the glass divider separating him from the rest of the counter. There weren't many options to choose from. It wasn't like they were on a cruise liner. It was a prison vessel after all. The fact that he couldn't digest meat—nor did he want to, as the Arigorii people were notoriously vegan—didn't make things any easier.