Nathalie's POV 
The sound of gunfire echoed in the battlefield. My heart pounded in my chest, louder than the shots ringing out. Vince stood there, gun in hand, staring me down like he was already planning his victory dance. I didn’t have time for fear—I needed a plan, and fast.
I was empty-handed, but not defenseless. I had skills, I just had to outsmart him. Problem was, Caleb was firing at Finn like a maniac, barely giving me room to think. Damn it! Every shot that missed Finn sent me into a panic. Vince hadn’t fired yet, but I knew it wouldn’t be long.
I stole a quick glance at Finn. He was dodging every bullet Caleb fired, barely hanging in there. “Stay alive, Finn,” I whispered under my breath, hoping he’d make it. Caleb was wasting all his ammo, but it wouldn’t matter if Finn slipped up just once.
Then I realized something. Vince had a Ruger gun—eight bullets, that’s all. Emery hadn’t mentioned any extra bulles. That gave me a small advantage. Vince couldn’t waste his shots, not like Caleb was doing. I just had to keep him from using them until he was too desperate to aim right.
But we both stood there, locked in place, neither of us making a move. Vince knew the same thing I did—one wrong shot, and he’d lose his chance. I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.
I looked again at Finn and Caleb. Caleb was relentless, not caring how many bullets he wasted, while Finn was dodging like his life depended on it. Hell, it did. I wanted to scream at him to stay strong, but my own battle was right in front of me.
Then I glanced at Noah. He wasn’t even firing his gun. He had it tucked behind him, just watching his opponent—the weak boy Alex had forced into the game—waiting for the right moment to strike. It was eerie, how calm he was. Cold.
Before I could think any more, Vince’s voice cut through the noise. “Why don’t you just give up, Nathalie? Don’t waste your breath,” he sneered, his laugh echoing in the air, harsh and cruel.
I rolled my eyes, trying not to let his taunts get under my skin. “You think you’re so tough, Vince?” I shot back. “Why are you ranked so low then, huh? I’m way above you, and you know it.” My voice dripped with sarcasm, and I let out a bitter laugh. I needed to throw him off, even if just for a second.
His smirk faltered, and I knew I had to act. I lunged toward him, my feet moving faster than my mind. I had no weapon, but I didn’t need one. If I could just knock the gun out of his hand—anything to get an edge.
Just as I expected, Vince dodged my first few hits. He wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t going to waste his shots yet. He was waiting, just like me, for the perfect moment. But that moment never seemed to come. We kept circling each other, both looking for an opening, both trying to stay ahead.
Then, suddenly, a scream shattered the tension. The weak boy. He was begging for his life, his voice cracking, pleading with Noah. I turned my head just in time to see Noah, standing there, gun raised, staring down at the boy with dead, emotionless eyes.
The gunshot was deafening. The boy fell to the ground, lifeless. Noah didn’t even blink.
The distraction was all it took. Pain hit of gun through my shoulder before I even knew what had happened. Vince had snuck up behind me, his hand gripping my shoulder with brutal force. I gasped, collapsing to the ground, the world spinning around me.
I looked up, and there he was, Vince, standing over me with his gun pointed right at my face. His eyes gleamed with victory, his lips curling into a sick smile. He was loving every second of this.
I tried to move, to fight, but my body was frozen.
I lay there on the cold floor, my body too heavy to move. My mind screamed at me to get up, but my muscles refused to obey. Finn's voice echoed in the distance, "Get up, Nathalie! You have to!" And then Abigail, her voice cutting through the noise, "Come on, Nathalie, don’t give up!" But I couldn't. My arms trembled, but I couldn’t lift them. I was trapped, pinned down by exhaustion and pain.
Just as I started to force my arms to push myself up, a sharp pain shot through my hand. Vince had stepped on it, hard, pressing it into the ground beneath his shoe. "Pathetic," he sneered, looking down at me like I was nothing. "Girls like you... you'll never have the strength boys do," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance.
I bit back a scream, a small whine escaping my lips as the pain flared through my body. My chest tightened, and for a moment, I thought it was over. Maybe it was. I had given everything, and yet here I was, beneath him, defeated.
Finn tried to rush toward me, but Emery’s voice rang out sharply, “Stay out of it, Finn. This fight isn’t yours.” Her words hung in the air, cold and final, keeping him frozen in place.
Vince grinned, pointing his gun at me, his finger already on the trigger. My breath caught in my throat. ‘This is it,’ I thought. My heart pounded louder, matching the rhythm of the chaos around me.
And then, it happened. The sound of the gun exploded in the room. But it wasn’t what I expected. Vince staggered, his face twisting in shock before he collapsed next to me, motionless. 
I blinked, trying to understand. What just happened? My mind raced, but everything felt too slow. I didn’t move, but Vince didn’t either. He was dead. But how? I was still alive. I looked down at the gun in his hand, and then it clicked.
It was a reverse gun. A trick. Whoever fired it didn’t kill their opponent—they killed themselves.
Relief and confusion washed over me at once, but I couldn’t process any of it. I was alive, and Vince... wasn't.
The sound of the final buzzer echoed through the arena, marking the end of the fifth round. It was over. Somehow, we had survived. Noah, Finn, and I had cleared this round, though I still wasn’t sure how I managed to stand—well, almost stand. I was crumpled on the floor, too tired to move, too tired to even lift my head.
Emery stood up from her seat. I could feel her presence as she walked across the battlefield, her footsteps slow but deliberate. I didn’t need to look to know she was coming toward me. I could hear her. I could feel her.
She gave a small nod to James and Amara, who cleared Finn and Noah from the battlefield. It was just us now. Just Emery and me.
I didn’t bother to move. I couldn’t. My whole body felt like it was weighed down by bricks. I could barely breathe, let alone get up.
Emery sighed. “You’ve always been strong, Naty. Stronger than most. But you’re always so slow when the moment really begins,” she said, her voice light with amusement. "Still... you impressed me enough."
That’s when it hit me. Naty. She hadn’t called me that since we were kids. I froze, my mind trying to catch up with what she just said. Why now? Why, after everything she put us through, would she call me by that name? The name she used back when things were... normal.
But before I could even react, she was already kneeling in front of me. I could barely register the shock as she grabbed my arms and legs, lifting me up into her arms like it was nothing.
I tried to push her away, to protest, but I couldn’t. I was too tired, too broken. She noticed, of course. “Don’t waste your energy. You don’t have much left, and complaining won’t help either.”
I glanced around the battlefield and saw everyone’s shocked faces. Lucas, Abigail, Finn, even Alex... they were all staring, confused and worried. None of them knew what Emery was up to. Hell, I didn’t know what she was up to. Why was she suddenly acting like... like we were friends again? Like the past didn’t happen?
She carried me effortlessly toward the Garden of Life, the battlefield fading into the background. I could feel the tension in the air, but there was something else. A strange calmness, almost like we were slipping back into a time before all of this. Before the games, before the fights, before she became... whatever she is now.
Emery laid me gently onto a leather chair in the garden, her chair. “Stay still,” she ordered softly. “Don’t move, just relax. I’ll clean up your wounds.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t have the strength to. My body refused to cooperate, and I nearly slipped off the chair, but Emery caught me before I could hit the floor.
“How careless can you be?” she muttered under her breath, almost to herself.
I hesitated, the words bubbling up inside me until I couldn’t hold them in anymore. “Why are you doing this, Emery? Why all of a sudden?” My voice was weak, but it was filled with all the confusion and pain I had been holding in for so long.
But she didn’t answer. She didn’t even look at me. She just kept cleaning my wounds, her hands gentle yet firm, like she was doing something she’d done a hundred times before.
As Emery continued to clean my wounds, I couldn’t help it—a soft giggle escaped me. The sound of it seemed so out of place in the middle of all this tension, but I couldn’t stop it. My body, despite everything, let out this tiny bubble of laughter.
Emery froze for a second, then looked up at me, her expression unreadable as always. It was like she was processing what just happened, unsure why I would be giggling in a moment like this. Her dark eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, her hands pausing where they were on my bandages. 
"What's so funny?" she asked, her tone as flat as ever.
I struggled, lifting my arm to reach out, my body aching from the effort. Slowly, my hand made it to the top of her head, and I patted her gently, wincing from the pain shooting through me. "You," I whispered, still giggling softly. "You act like you don’t care... but you do, Emy. You still care. Even if you try to hide it, it’s all still there inside you."
A single tear rolled down my cheek, falling onto her arm. I didn’t even notice I was crying until I saw it splash against her skin. The pain wasn’t just physical anymore—it was all the years of distance, all the cold walls she built up around herself. And in that moment, something cracked. Something I thought had been lost forever.
Emery’s hands stopped moving. She sat there for a moment, frozen, staring down at my tear as if she couldn’t believe it was real. I could feel her stiffen, the slightest tension in her body, but she said nothing. I swallowed, forcing myself to continue even though my voice was shaking.
"When did this all start, Emy?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "When did you decide to lock yourself away from me, from Finn? Why...? Why do you have to carry all of this by yourself?"
Tears flowed freely now, the dam inside me breaking after all these years. "Why, Emery...?" I could barely speak through the sobs. My fingers tangled gently in her hair, clinging to her like I was afraid she’d disappear if I let go.
For a long time, she stayed quiet, kneeling beside me, her gaze fixed on something distant, something only she could see. I could see the conflict in her eyes, the cold mask she always wore cracking just a little, but still... she didn’t give in. She didn’t show anything on the surface.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Emery spoke. Her voice was low, almost too quiet to hear. "I can’t let my plan fail, Nathalie." Her words were flat, emotionless, like she was reciting something she had memorized a thousand times. 
She wiped away one of my tears with her thumb, then went back to cleaning my wounds, acting like nothing had changed. Like my words hadn’t reached her at all.
I bit my lip, trying to stop the fresh wave of tears from coming. I wanted to scream, to shake her, to make her open up the way she used to. But I knew better. This was Emery. She wasn’t going to let me—or anyone else—see what was really going on inside her. Not anymore.
So, I didn’t push her. I just lay there, my hand still resting gently on her head, fingers lightly tangled in her hair. Neither of us spoke again. There was nothing left to say, not right now. 
But I knew one thing for sure, no matter what Emery said, no matter how much she tried to distance herself from us, I could see it. The girl I knew, the friend I grew up with... she was still there, buried deep beneath all the layers of armor she had built up over the years.
For now, that was enough.
I stayed still, letting her work, my mind racing with questions I couldn’t ask. But one thing was clear—something had changed. I didn’t know what, but the Emery I remembered was still in there somewhere.
And for some reason, that gave me hope.