following Fun & Games which is backdated for Oct 7

The difference in air quality registered first, cleaner than anything he'd ever inhaled, not even the woodlands surrounding Bailey could compare. And it should make Halle feel better, but all he felt was that his skin was too suffocating, that his lungs couldn't fill enough with his ribs in the way and that he hated the feeling of the ground underfoot. He needed to calm down but after a long stretch of silence he began to scream instead, at the top of his lungs.

When he finally stopped, panting fiercely and the faint echo still lingering in the otherwise silent forest, Halle took a moment and then. Started screaming again. Full of nothin but pure emotion that had been building for months now. Everything was terrible and there was nothing he could do about it. He was fifteen years old and the smallest pawn on a game board he couldn't even see, where the stakes were literally life and death. And where before, when he broke down in tears for the sadness of it all, now, in the safety and solitary of an entirely different world, he put voice to all the anger he had over the unfairness of it. Of the random stupidity of it. Why him?! Why Luke and Lena?!

So he screamed and he hated.

He hated the oath. He hated Lysithea and this place, Halle. He hated the other side that wanted him dead, sight unseen. The monstrous youma. The list of enemies that read like a hostile geology exam.

Albite, listed twice. A total psychopath with a heart of gold which made him extra disgusting, like all the listed "infiltration" specialists deemed friendly.

Aquamarine, with a sword, a dagger, and magic, all with the cold demeanor that means he'll use them. Attached to a General King Jet, who was recruited as young as they were right now and switches between kindness and violence.

Borax, who sounded like an outright killer.

General King Faustite, an insane and powerful monster of an existence. A torturer. A strategist.

The list kept going and he knew it was incredibly incomplete, that multitudes lurked behind each entry.

He hated them all. Hated the entries talking about those who could be changed but hadn't yet. Was that hesitation costing people their lives? Would it cost Lisse's or Almere's? Or who knew how many civilians were being fed directly into their continued participation? Would one of these people who apparently hated it but still didn't leave, kill his mom?

Eventually he had to stop screaming, and when he did, the page was nearly on his knees, panting and hoarse. He wanted to throw up but his throat refused further abuse, and he could only choke and cough on his own bile.

When he had it in him to stand up straight, eyes and mind blurry, still recovering from the violent outpouring that was still lurking at the back of his head, he stumbled toward the door of the lodge. It opened at the touch of his ring, and a torch inside flickered to life. A new convenience he barely noticed.

Mindlessly, he wandered the halls, unwilling to sit down lest his emotions and thoughts catch up with him once more. It was good to be a little hollow right now, even if he still wanted to throw up.

Dusty tapestries, sturdy wooden and stone furniture. Raggedy furs and linens ready to fall apart at a touch. Paintings long faded into muddied pools of pale color. Crumbling bones and rusted weapons mounted on wall after wall. A kitchen. A large dining room. An even larger ballroom, complete with a stage and even the remains of some instruments. Most were even recognizable, but an alien few were decidedly not.

Mind numb and hands restless, Halle picked up the simplest, a round bell with a dangling charm. It was nothing to give it an idle ring, but the sound carried across the room, past the forest and through the mental fog that had overwhelmed Halle ever since exiting that game.

He exhaled for what felt like the first time in hours.