"I am Unnamed. My title is dead."
In the World, the Planet, and the Base, it's either be number one or die.
The alternative to dying, however, is to become an Unnamed. Turning eighteen means that you will compete for your name. Come out on top, you...
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The entire track falls silent. The Elite Runner breathes hard, not from fatigue, but from anger. His face is red, not from running, but from fury.
The Runner stares at him, unable to find words. He had made a big mistake. If the Runner had a chance on the day of the Competitions, he definitely won't now. Mortimer the Elite Solver's warnings echo in his mind, telling him about the power the Elites hold and about how Blaise won't play fair.
"You're a cheat," the Elite growls under his breath as he tries to calm himself down. "That's the only reason why you beat me."
The Runner says nothing, afraid that, if he does, he'd be killed right then and there by the hands of the Elite Runner. He keeps his mouth shut and his jaw taught, just as he'd been raised to do from such a young age.
Blaise's scowl suddenly breaks out in a white-toothed grin, sending the Runner's adrenaline pumping a whole new wave through his veins. He knows what's about to come next isn't good.
"Race me again," the Elite says quietly. "Race me again, Runner. See if you can beat me for a second time."
The Runner looks around. His eyes stop on Three, who shakes his head slightly, fear raging in his eyes.
"No," The Runner says and turns around, starting to walk away, back to the Runner's Building. He wants to be alone. He wants to be away from all these people, away from the Elite surging with power and overconfidence standing before him.
He doesn't get three steps before Blaise the Elite Runner opens his mouth once again.
"Are you presenting yourself as a coward, Runner?"
The Runner stops in his tracks, clenching his fists and relaxing them, breathing in and out slowly. He feels the sting of his words bruise his pride, but he can't do this. If he races again, everyone will be watching him, evaluating him. He can't risk another race and have his competition learning what he's doing wrong before the Competitions even begin. He has to walk away. There's no other choice.
"And this is why you'll never be an Elite," Blaise continues. "This is why, come Competition day, you'll be one of the Unnamed. You'll. Be. Dead."
He lets out a laugh as the Runner continues to breathe in and out slowly, trying to control his temper.
"Unnamed. A loser for the rest of your life."
The Runner starts to bounce on the balls of his feet and starts to walk again. He needs to get away. Needs to escape these words before...
"Just like that girl, Rachel, the one that died."
The Runner whips around and strides up to the Elite. Before Blaise can move from his spot, the Runner strikes him down with his fist, blood flying from The Elite's mouth.
The Elite Runner falls to the ground and wipes the blood from his chin. He chuckles, the sound seeming out of place.
The Runner stands above him, huffing. He realizes what he just did and turns back around, mortified. What could this do to him? What would the other Elites do once they find out what he did to the Elite Runner?
