Gasping Olympics

Act IV

River Garland

My chest pops in surprise when the punks starts to move like an actual preds. "What's happening?" Sludge ask, feeling baffle. Like Sludge and Germ, I've been preoccupied of excitement. I feel like there's a dynamite explosion on my stomach. I'm eager to go in that room.

"The champions... they're inside the simulation." I answer after I notice their group in the room of killing machines.

As I stride my eyes in the glass that divides the simulation room with punks, I study the jarring and nerve-whacking moves of the playing champions. Feeling astound to the bluntness on how they avoid the attacks of the dwarf and giant punks, I brush my forehead as I feel the thrill of adventure. "They are very fast to prevent those attacks!" I lost my focus when Germ joins in the conversation.

"The simulation is chicken to them." The other newbie joins on us. I strife him a deadliest stare I have... judging his unkempt, brunette hair even though it was in standard, uniform haircut. "Champions trained theirselves for many years. Look at their frame. Incredibly strong right?.. their agility are astonishing and... their stamina are virtually flawless to survive outside the sanctuary."

Again, I turn my sight to the champions who are enthusiast in the inside of the simulation room. He's right, the champions are like athletes who had been trained throughout their lives for Gasping Olympics.

"Questor number seven, Smut Lawrence." The friendly, looking-thirty-years-old newbie introduce his Plebeian name. His auburn hair is not a good match to his blotchy face. I think he suffered from severe acne when he's teen.

"Questor number twenty-one, River Garland... just call me Riv!" I offer him a firm handshake. When we shake our hands, I was engross to his rough palm which is common for all hardworking Plebeians. I spurn the evil that whispers my ears. I should stop judging this man through his appearance.

"I'd been joining Gasping Olympics for five consecutive years!" Smut confesses. I was bit shock and feeling uncomfortable to his closeness. O'Yes! I recognize his bad face in the previous years during the parade of the questors - the day in which the Olympic will commences.

"Yeah! I just-just remember you." Germ says while draping his tight suit.

"Luck is always on my favor." Smut outgrew his own irony. We laugh.

I return my eyes to the champions under the simulation. I seen the group of Reed William, together with Xenon Oxford and his wife Vermi, Wither Bolton and Decay Lovelace. I observe how they work each other when one of them is on danger the other one will give a help. I don't understand but they're working as a team. Feeling confuse and unduly to their survival techniques. I ask myself, why they're helping one another?

Gasping Olympics is a race... by the end of this race, only one will be hail as champion. I don't get their point why they're helping one another instead mind their own strategy to get rid those chasing punks which will be later as preds when we'll be in actual race.

"They move like only one is controlling their minds!" Sludge says.

"Yes! We call that exercise team-building." Tracey answers.

"What's that?" Olive joins us.

"This olympic game doesn't promote selfishness. You will all realize that once you'll be in the outside." Tracey smirks on us.