12. Grace

The clamor of the crowd grew to a deafening crescendo.

It was hard to distinguish one voice from another, but I could still pick out Tix's name being chanted by some.

My fingers tightened around the railing as I strained to see the fighters clearly.

The scent of fresh alien snacks that smelled disgusting to me wafted through the air, blending oddly with the musky undertones that seemed to emanate from the fighting pits.

This was an atmosphere of excitement for some, but for me, it was one of heart-thumping dread.

When the announcer's voice echoed with the news that Fleth wouldn't be fighting Tix, a whirlwind of emotions swept over me.

Panic.

We had prepared for Fleth, not Chius!

Every hair on my body stood on end, a chill running down my spine despite the warm, stuffy air around me.

Chius was a name whispered in hushed tones amongst the Prizes.

His reputation wasn't just confined to being one of the most formidable fighters but extended to his erratic and unpredictable choices of Prizes.

Victory looked different for everyone, and for Chius, it was variety.

No Prize was ever chosen twice, keeping all of us in constant fear.

I licked my lips nervously.

I found it hard to swallow, my throat feeling parched and tight.

I had never been chosen by Chius, a fact that had brought me comfort before, but now that very fact seemed like a ticking time bomb.

The sinking feeling in my stomach intensified.

In my ears, the murmurs of the audience surrounding me grew louder, their voices tinged with excitement and anticipation.

Some spoke about placing last-minute bets, some gossiped about Fleth's sudden exit, and a few seemed to pity Tix.

"He's done for," I overheard someone whispering.

It felt as though a weight pressed down on my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

The smell of roasted meat suddenly felt nauseating, and the radiant heat of the surrounding lights seemed overbearing.

The cacophony around me was a cruel reminder of the stakes at hand.

Tearing my gaze from the pit, I glanced around, taking in the faces of the other Prizes.

There was a shared look of fear.

No, it was more than that.

There was also an unsaid understanding, a silent plea in their eyes.

They, too, were afraid of being chosen by Chius, and they, too, wished for Tix to triumph, not just for his sake but for their own.

I had to do something.

I had to take matters into my own hands.

But how?

How?

A plan began to form in my mind, pieces of a puzzle clicking into place.

The uncertainty and fear that had once consumed me began to wane, replaced by a burning determination.

I had an idea…

Would it work?

* * *

The Prize sleepingroom was dimly lit, and for a moment I stood dazed from the bright overhead lights in the Prize Pool.

The soft and rhythmic hum of the air filters filled the room, melding with the gentle snores of some Prizes already lost in slumber.

The smell of clean linen was comforting, reminiscent of simpler days back on my home planet.

Sliding onto the nearest sleeping pad, I took a moment to gather myself.

I could feel the cool, smooth texture of the pad beneath my fingers as I pressed down, anchoring myself.

With each inhalation, I tried to draw in calm and expel the anxiety and fear that had wound its way into every fiber of my being.

The sensation of diving into the dreamworld was always a bit like sinking into a pool of water, except this pool was boundless and as vast as the universe.

Weightlessness took over as the real world melted away, replaced by the ethereal landscape of dreams.

My feet barely touched the ground as I sprinted through the prison's corridors in the dreamworld.

It was eerily quiet, save for the echo of my footsteps, sounding distant and hollow.

The prison, which was a hubbub of activity during waking hours, felt almost desolate in this dream state.

Fresh moss wafted through the air, peculiar but not entirely unpleasant.

I entered the fighting pits.

Here, the dreamworld mirrored its real-world counterpart with uncanny precision, from the towering walls to the fine grains of sand underfoot.

I could hear the muted murmurs of the couple of prisoners who had nodded off in the stands, their dreams forming delicate, shimmering bubbles above them.

Resisting the temptation to peek, I focused on my mission.

As I approached the antechamber, an unexpected sight greeted me.

Chius, the formidable fighter everyone feared, was there.

Not sprawled out or lying down but sitting upright.

His breathing was slow and deliberate, and there was a serene aura around him.

His closed eyes and the gentle rise and fall of his chest were misleading; he wasn't truly asleep.

I paused, taking in the sight.

His towering form seemed less intimidating now, more… human, or at least as human as an alien could look.

The ambient light of the dreamworld highlighted the intricate patterns on his scales, reflecting an array of colors that I hadn't noticed before.

As I moved closer, I could smell a distinct, earthy scent coming off him.

It hit me then.

Chius wasn't just sleeping; he was in a state of deep meditation, a daydream of sorts.

This was both an opportunity and a risk.

The boundaries and rules of the dreamworld were not as clear when it came to daydreams, and who knew what I might encounter or how he might react?

It was a risk I was willing to take.

For Tix, for the future, and to quell the growing dread within me.

With cautious optimism, I reached out, allowing my consciousness to meld with Chius's daydream.

The surroundings started to shift, and I felt a rush of sensations — the warmth of a different sun, and the distant cries of unfamiliar birds.

Hoping to uncover his fears, his vulnerabilities, anything that might give Tix an edge, I plunged into the depths of Chius's psyche.

There was no turning back now.

I entered his daydream, driven by hope and determination, praying I'd find the answers I was searching for.

* * *

The sensationof waking from the dreamworld was always disorienting, a heady blend of the weightlessness of dreams and the pull of reality.

This time, however, my senses snapped into focus faster than ever before.

The familiar hum of the Prize Pool's walls buzzed around me.

I could feel the cold, hard ground beneath me, almost as if it was urging me to move.

Pushing off the floor, I was immediately on my feet.

A frantic urgency bubbled inside of me, and I searched frantically for something, anything, to write on.

Spotting a discarded scrap of paper on a nearby table, I lunged for it.

The paper was slightly damp and had the distinct aroma of stale sweat.

It was not ideal, but it would have to do.

I quickly scribbled down what I had discovered from Chius's daydream, my fingers tingling with each hurried movement.

Finishing, I looked around for a way to get the message to Tix.

My heart thudded loudly in my chest, its rhythm amplifying my anxiety.

The air felt thick and muggy, and each breath was laborious.

Spotting a guard near the entrance, I sprinted toward him.

His imposing frame stood still as stone, and his large helmet stared straight ahead, not acknowledging my approach.

"Please," I implored, thrusting the note toward him. "You have to give this to Tix. He's about to fight in the pits. It's vital."

The guard's response was a nonchalant glance in my direction, his face revealing nothing.

My heart sank; I was running out of time, and this guard was my only chance.

Just then, a soft, sultry voice chimed in. "Oh, come on now," cooed Lila, one of the Prizes known for her beguiling allure and enchanting voice.

She slinked over, her sinuous body moving in a way that seemed to defy the laws of physics.

Her skin shimmered like a thousand tiny jewels, reflecting light in dazzling patterns. "Do a gal a favor, won't you?" she purred, running a slender finger down the guard's armored chest.

The guard hesitated, his stoic demeanor faltering for just a moment.

Lila was the most popular Prize in the entire Pool; every male wanted her.

Could she seduce one of the guards too, who were generally like stone?

With a reluctant sigh, he took the note from my hand.

He turned and made his way toward the pits.

Relief washed over me like a tidal wave.

I turned to Lila, overwhelmed with gratitude. "Thank you," I whispered.

She chuckled softly, her laughter sounding like the tinkling of wind chimes. "If we don't look out for each other, no one will," she replied, her tone both mischievous and sincere.

The words resonated with me.

That was precisely how I felt about helping Tix.

We were in this together, and I would do everything in my power to ensure his safety and our freedom.

The sounds of the Prize Pool faded into the background as I allowed myself a moment of hope.

My fingers instinctively touched the spot where the note had been, recalling the sensation of the coarse paper and the urgency with which I had written the message.

I hope he receives the note in time,I whispered to myself, watching the guard disappear into the distance.

The weight of the situation settled upon me, but for the first time in what felt like forever, it was accompanied by a glimmer of hope.