You were exhausted. The relentless chase had drained every ounce of energy from your body, sweat clinging to your skin as your lungs burned from exertion. The game of tag had been brutal—every time you managed to switch back to blue, the Queen of Spades or one of her minions was right there to tag you red again. After what felt like an eternity of running, dodging, and diving for safety, you had finally given up.

Now, you stood face-to-face with the Queen of Spades, your chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. The neon lights of the game arena flickered against her sharp features, casting eerie shadows across her face. She was poised to tag you, arm outstretched, her expression unreadable.

In that moment, instead of flinching away, you spoke.

“You’ve played these games before, haven’t you?” Your voice came out hoarse, but steady.

The Queen of Spades hesitated, then smiled. It wasn’t a smug or triumphant grin, nor was it cruel. It was something else entirely—something distant.

You swallowed, feeling the last of your adrenaline fading. “Why?”

Her eyes flickered with something almost like amusement, but also a deep, quiet sorrow. “Why?” she echoed softly, as if tasting the word. Then, with a small shrug, she answered. “Because I had nothing outside of the Borderlands. No family. No money. No purpose. It was better to stay here than to go back to the real world.”

Her voice was eerily calm, as though she had accepted this truth long ago.

You studied her, the weight of her words settling heavily in your chest. You had seen players fight desperately for survival, for a chance to return home, to reunite with their loved ones. But here she was—choosing to stay, knowing full well what it meant.

“You’re going to die soon. You know that, right?” Your words were blunt, but not cruel.

She gave the smallest nod. “I know. But I was going to die out there eventually, too.”

Silence hung between you. The sounds of the game—the distant shouts, the pounding footsteps of other players—faded into background noise.

Then, something unexpected happened. She didn’t tag you. Her hand, still raised, never made contact. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, considering you with an almost wistful expression.

“Let’s exchange names,” she said, lowering her arm. “I’m Risa. And you are?”