GLADIATOR | ELYSIUM RISING 1 ✔️

⍢ | 20

Iggy dreamt of his death.

He stood in the middle of a battle with various blades sticking through him like pushpins stuck to a doll. Blood poured from his wounds and mouth. Smoke, ash, and death lingered in the heavy air around him. Bodies littered the burning ground. Overhead, warships screamed as they tore through the sky, shooting off bright bolts of energy from their massive cannons.

Another sword ripped through him, this time piercing his heart.

His eyes snapped open. He shot up from the bed he laid on with sweat pouring down the sides of his reddened face. His throat tightened. Black spots marred his sight as oxygen failed to reach his brain.

He hyperventilated until a pair of calming hands urged him back down onto the bed beneath him. It was softer than his cot in the sleeping quarters. Squeezing his eyes shut, he sunk into the plush mattress and waited for his breath to return to him. He wasn't anywhere near an ocean, but he felt like he was drowning.

It took a few more moments of laborious breathing for him to calm down. Once he did, he reopened his eyes.

There were no flags. No tributes trying to kill him. No Tenn either. The arena was nowhere in sight. Despite the lack of stands full of onlookers watching him fight for his life, he could still hear their deafening noises permeating his eardrums. His ears still rung from the sounds of the arena.

The image of the scoreboard stood out in the busy haze of his mind.

His tongue felt like a decommissioned trader frigate in his mouth.

Team Green finished the game in the third, meaning he and his teammates progressed to the next round of the Elysian Games. But that also meant the yellow squad would be eliminated. Iggy might not have killed anyone himself during the challenge, but he might as well have. The Elysians were going to kill those tributes. And it would be his fault. He stole their last point. He stole their lives.

His stomach twisted at the thought.

"Iggorii Amrada, please calm down," a stiff voice from the side of his bed urged.

He snapped his eyes to them.

An android dressed in an all-white uniform with red trim peered at him with bright eyes. Behind them, screens displayed his heart rate and vital signs while a floating three-dimensional display of his body rotated in front of them. On the miniature diagram, his right arm was highlighted red. The area around his chest had been colored orange.

He looked away from the screens and tried to get a grip on his new surroundings. Opaque glass walls wrapped around the room he laid in. Through the frosted material, he could see identical rooms on either side of him. He arched an eyebrow at the attendant standing over him.

"Where am I?"

"You are in the infirmary," the android answered. "You collapsed after your victory."

Iggy glanced at his arm. He could barely feel it. A bandage snaked around his bicep, covering the wound. "From the blood loss?"

"Yes, but mostly due to the exhaustion."

Embarrassment flooded his face like the redness filling his cheeks. Before he could ask the android any other questions, three people entered through the sliding glass door at the front of the room. Moxi Daystar helmed the group while Ivy Brightway followed behind. A man dressed in a familiar black and gold uniform walked alongside her. Iggy's eyes lit up. High Priestess Naija's guards wore those garments. Much to his dismay, he didn't see the Majaan priestess among them.

Moxi beamed at Iggy upon arriving at the foot of his hospital bed. "What a relief! Almost thought we lost you there."

Sitting up, Iggy squinted at the three newcomers. "What are you doing here?"