Audio Script

What beautiful eyes! So piercing. Like she's looking into me. Like she sees the real me! Etta. Of course, I can't look at her long. Not when she knows I'm looking at her. She's far too beautiful. It's like holding your hand in a fire. You have to draw back. But what if she didn’t know I was looking? Then I could look as long as I wanted. To look, yet remain unseen. I wonder…

I've been a busy bee! I have an old acquaintance who has access to the archives. They're in awful disarray, but eventually I found it — the architectural plans for the underground military outpost our Coliseum was built on! According to the plans, there’s an intricate network of hidden evacuation tunnels shadowing the main structure of the facility. In emergencies these passageways allowed the soldiers to evacuate to the surface. Dotted throughout the passageways were dozens of 'panic rooms'. If trapped, these rooms allowed soldiers to conceal themselves in a secure location whilst monitoring what was happening in the nearby vicinity. To look, yet remain unseen. After scrutinizing the plans, I eventually found what I was looking for. A panic room directly adjacent to Etta's private lab.

Apparently, Etta's lab used to be an armory. Since the armory was of high strategic value, a hidden camera was placed there. The visual uplinks are still perfectly operational, even after all these years! It must be because the surveillance system is powered by some off-grid, geothermal energy source... At any rate — all eyes on you, Etta!

I've started spending a lot of time down here. Watching Etta. I've even moved some articles of work down here from my lab. It's wonderful to be in her presence, yet not feel inadequate or painfully shy. It's like we're keeping each other company — while we work, while we drink coffee. It's almost as if on some level she knows I'm there. Like we're truly together. Technically she’s my opponent. I could use the hidden camera to steal her designs and ascertain her strategies before a match. Yet the very thought is abhorrent! It would be a terrible thing to do. A betrayal! In fact — in spite of myself — I've started giving her the odd advantage. Giving my fighters slightly inferior weapons. Unsuitable capabilities. I'm letting her win. Without even realizing it, I've lost interest in The Game. I’m only competing so I can be close to her. To this calming sense of togetherness...

That bastard Maxwell! I won't stand for it! How did he discover me? How did he find the entrance to the evacuation tunnels? He must have been spying on me. Blackmail! The cheating, scum-sucking maggot! I had to hand over the panic room to him. Exclusively! He said that Etta was winning far too often. That he needed to even the score. So that's it! Finished. No more togetherness with Etta. I won’t be able to see that smile when she has an inspiring idea. The way she scratches behind her left ear when she's considering a difficult problem. All gone.

Right now that bastard's in there. Spying on Etta. Stealing her strategies. Using her! But what choice did I have? He said he'd tell her! She wouldn't understand. He'd paint me as a stalker. One of those depraved sexual deviants. She'd never understand that I actually love her. That I'd do anything for her. I mean I’d even... Why not? After all, I have the element of surprise! Maxwell doesn't think I'll stand up to him. He thinks I'm weak Well, I'll show him!

Why did I do it? Stupid! Now I’m trapped down here. The most I can hope for is that somebody one day hears this. That somebody knows how I stood up to an evil man for the woman I love. Alright. From the beginning then. For what it’s worth. I'd had the pistol for years, lying unused in my bureau. I was a terrible shot. I would have to get very close. He was surprised to see me, as I knew he would. I had him covered, but he was too quick for me. He threw a vial of liquid into my eyes, blinding me. He took the gun, beat me up and threw me down here. Down in Sector C. The ‘reject bin’.

When I woke up there was darkness. Indistinct shapes were slinking towards me. There were dozens of them. All regarding me with their black eyes. Their cold, empty shark's stare. Their hooked claws were reaching for me. One of them broke off from the mass. Started to approach. This is it, I thought. It was crouching, ready to launch itself on me. I tensed, closing my eyes. Awaiting the inevitable. Nothing. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes. Its face was centimeters from my own. I opened my mouth in a silent scream of terror. It tilted its insect-like head first one way, then the other, as if considering something. Then the inexplicable happened. It rubbed it's leathery, scaled head against my cheek, nose and brow — for all the world as if it were a dog showing affection. Then it turned back to the others, screaming out to them with a horrible, wet gurgling. As if receiving an order, the group of Calamusoids turned around and slunk back into the darkness.

It's funny to think it ends here, of all places. Down here on sector C all with the rejects! The ones that were too aggressive, too wild. In the end they overran the entire sector. They were absolutely fearless. But their worst defect — the real deal breaker — was that no matter what we did to them they'd never lift a finger against one of their own kind. Which of course is the whole point of the Arena! So a few days ago we gave them up for dead. Shut down the power and the pumps. Without the feeding-gas, they'd soon die of starvation. And now here I am. Trapped forever in the reject bin.

No miraculous escape for me. However, I did finally manage to get a little power. It wasn't enough. I still couldn't open the door. I also managed to turn on the pumps for the Calamusoid feeding-gas. I honestly don't know why I did this. I suppose I didn't like the thought of watching everything die down here. In the past few days I've seen these Calamusoids as I'd never seen them before — emaciated wretches agonizingly dragging themselves across the ground before they finally expired with a long, terrible mewling. It was...heartbreaking.

Something's happening to me. First of all, I’ve lost my hunger. I don't even know when it happened. At some point, I just stopped feeling hungry. And my throat is swelling and closing up. it’s getting harder to speak. I am also incredibly strong. I discovered this when I was working in the Control Room. I was once more trying to redirect power to the elevator doors when I pulled on the activation lever. It came off in my hand. Extraordinary! I'm not strong enough to smash through the heavy elevator door, but even so. Impressive. Other changes have not been so...pleasant.

The facts are inescapable. When I first arrived here a calamusoid sniffed at my face. Around the eyes. The places that were burned by the liquid Maxwell threw at me. And since then they have left me in peace. These Calamusoids have never attacked me. And why? Because they never attack their own. Dear God, what was in that vial?!...