I was crushing it. The most recent service task had paid out $25,000, putting me miles ahead of the others. From worst to best, the current rankings were Addy with $111,312, Blaine with $140,900, Brad with $142,000, and myself with $190,950. My number continued to climb, while the other three stayed relatively stagnant. Were the others even generating cash flows anymore?

I walked over to the power moves table and picked up a fresh yellow cube. To my surprise, Blaine had played two cubes in the row for ‘Time’.

Why? Does he realize he’s in third place?

There was no understanding it. With pity in my heart, I placed another cube in the ‘Time’ row. The game would now end at 2 PM. That had to be soon.

“Childe, what time is it?”

“1:25 PM."

I shook my head in amusement. No competition. This was sad.

I returned to the computer to choose another task. Maybe I would try something new, just for the fun of it?

“Sir, you are receiving a call from Andrew Delainy," Childe informed me.

Or I could indulge myself in a small break. That worked, too.

“Answer it,” I said. Following the beep, I asked, “Addy, what’s up?”

Addy’s voice was increasing and decreasing in volume, and I could hear his footfalls. He was running, and Childe was rapidly switching inputs as he moved away from one speaker and towards another.

“Drop whatever you’re doing and get to Brad's tower now," he demanded, "I need backup!”

“Why?” I asked, "Backup with what?"

“Alec!" Addy shouted, "Brad’s vault is wide open! This is a golden fucking opportunity and I’m cutting you in! Get your ass over here and take the free money!”

"Give me a sec," I told him.

I needed to deliberate for a few seconds. It sounded good, but would the risk be worth the reward?

It seemed unlikely that my competition would catch up to me, even if I took a nap for the rest of the game. In terms of capital, they were all behind by a cozy margin. From sales revenue alone, my bar was increasing at a faster rate than any of theirs, expanding the gap further. Victory was reasonably inevitable.

In other words, I had nothing better to do. There were few decisions I could make that would affect the outcome of the game, and this didn't seem to be one of them.

"Alec!"

“Ok, I’m walking,” I said, gathering the various gadgets from my desk, “What makes you think the vault is 'wide open?'”

“It's wide open because Blaine and Brad are chilling in Blaine’s office! You know, instead of playing the game! Classic beta move. I'm honestly impressed."

So Blaine and Brad stopped playing? Is this a surrender?

I had my doubts. But if it was true, then this was an invaluable opportunity.

Nothing better to do.

I increased my pace.

♠

Addy waved for me to hurry, and I scampered into the vault. He had already begun collecting Brad's money cubes, and was holding a bag that looked identical to my bag of holding.

Addy noticed my glance and explained, “Pawned it off of Blaine while we were fighting. It’s something straight out of Dungeons and Dragons! Look-,”

He had been about to demonstrate, but I stopped him, showing my own bag.

Addy’s grin was wild, “Hell yes. Perfect.”

Together, we looted the vault.

It was fun. I was actually having a good time, despite the mountain of questions roaring for attention in the back of my head. Was this our captors' plan? To break our spirits until we were completely subservient? Because it was working on some level. At my core, I loved games, and it was easy to lose myself in the competition.

Don't give them what they want. You're a human, with rights and needs. One of those needs is some damn answers.

I nodded to myself. Sure, I was having fun, but my patience would eventually give out. If my captors didn't think so, I would remind them once this game was over. Once I had thoroughly demonstrated my usefulness to their plans.

By the time we heard voices approaching from down the hall, most of the money cubes had been stashed away in our magical pouches.

“...might not be here after all. The computer didn’t show any changes to your money bar,” Blaine’s voice was distant, but growing nearer.

“No. Addy messes with me every chance he gets. He’s here, I’m one-hundred percent sure of it.”

I tensed, looking to Addy for instruction.

Addy was crouched over his bag of holding, pulling at it with both hands, unable to lift it from the ground. It didn't even budge, no matter how much he strained his body. It was as if the bottom of the sack had been mounted to the floor with titanium brackets.

That doesn't make sense.

I hefted my own bag, which still felt as light as it had been when empty. Which was expected, because the cubes weighed next to nothing. Was there something wrong with Addy's bag?

Blaine and Brad were nearly upon us. Addy abandoned the bag and dashed to hide against the wall, just to the left of the vault door.

I moved to follow.

“No!” he hissed, “Stay back! I have a plan!”

Sure, okay. Now I was curious.

In the meantime, I remained where I was in the back of the vault.

The heavy door opened outwards, and Blaine and Brad each took a step inside. Our gazes locked, and they each offered me their own flavor of a dirty scowl.

"Well, well, well," Blaine spoke. Completely cliché.

Addy took the distraction as an opportunity to blitz behind them and through the open door.

Blaine spun around fiercely, just as the first explosion ripped through the hallway. The blast was small, but it nearly knocked him off of his feet. It was impressive and unexpected.

How did he do that?

More explosions followed, silhouetting Blaine and Brad against a cloud of fire. I stood in the back of the vault, waiting for a signal to move or strike. It was still unclear what the plan was.

Over the roar of the blasts, I could hear Addy shout, “Don’t fuck with my investments, Alec! That's from one alpha to another! I’m the fucking wolf of Wall-,”

The intense noise drowned out his fleeting voice.

Blaine observed the fire for a moment and then turned back towards me. A continuous cloud of ash fluttered in through the doorway, shrouding part of the flames in darkness.

'Don't fuck with my investments, Alec.'

He figured it out. That I’m the one who sabotaged his stock trading.

Figured it out and didn't let me know. Clever.

This was never a two-man heist. It was a snare meant to catch Blaine and Brad, with me as the bait. And we had all fallen for it.

Stupid. So stupid. So obvious!

Now he had me trapped in a vault with the enemy. Caught with my pants down.

Blaine’s look was one of disappointment.

"Mind explaining?" he asked, straddling his legs so he blocked more of the doorway.

Not that it mattered. What remained of the hallway was on fire.

"He asked me to come here. So I did," I said. A half-truth.

"Why?" Brad demanded, "Why help Addy at all? He doesn't care about anyone but himself!"

Woah. Where had this anger come from?

It looked like Brad was bent on saying more, but his mouth had snapped shut, a contemplative look coming over him. When he resumed speaking, his conviction had redoubled, “He betrayed you. See what happens when you’re friends with Addy? Doesn't care about anyone.”

Yeah, he kinda did betray me, I thought, but this is just a game... I think. We’re still friends. There's no reason to stop being friends. If anything, I did this to myself by betraying Addy.

I wasn't sure how much of that I should say.

Blaine was smirking at a joke I hadn't heard. When he was finished, he narrowed his eyes and asked, “So what happens to you now? We can't let you off easy.”

Was he giving me a say in the matter? I considered my words carefully.

“He played me,” I admitted, “And I don’t need the money; keep it. I'm just here hanging out. I'll leave peacefully.”

I started pulling cubes from my bag individually, tossing them back into the pile. I couldn’t dump the entire contents of the bag, because it would mean dropping the possibly fragile grey gem - even though it was altogether useless.

“How about you give us your grappling guns, too?” Blaine inquired, seeing where I had neatly stacked them on the floor.

No.

“Just make your own,” I reasoned, “I think I remember the recipe. Five for fun, five... uh... what was the other category?”

“Hey, I hate to interrupt, but how are we gonna get out of here?” Brad interjected.

I shrugged, “I gave that problem my best shot. Ted wouldn’t tell me anything and the walls and ceiling are indestructible. Even the glass in-,”

“I think what he means,” Blaine interrupted, “Is how we’re getting out of this vault.”

He pointed behind him to the floorless hallway. I walked to his side and followed his gaze downwards.

My heart sagged in my chest.

Addy hadn’t just bombed the 24th floor. The 23rd, 22nd, and 21st were also in shambles, with floorboards that were either missing or covered in smoking rubble.

I sighed, expressing my concern while also ridding my lungs of smoke.

My heart sank deeper when I realized what this meant. It didn't matter that the game was ending soon. My enormous lead didn't matter.

All three of us had just lost.

♠

There was nothing left to do.

The grappling guns wouldn't save us. They were incapable of anchoring into the wall or ceiling of the 24th-floor. Blaine had suggested firing the guns at a lower point, but I had vetoed the idea. Firing at a point below us would result in a dangerous amount of velocity during the swing.

The wands wouldn't save us, either.

The gem I had named ‘TedLax’ would only make things worse.

Blaine’s white glove could apparently apply a large amount of force to whatever it touched. Brad wondered what would happen if he dove into the hole and landed on his gloved hand. It might function like a springboard. It could also mean crushing every bone in that arm and then dying. Blaine and I really didn’t want to find out.

Brad had suggested climbing into a bag of holding, eyeing the bag that Addy had left behind. We could toss the bag across the hall and Brad could climb out and look for some rope or a ladder.

Blaine and I seized Brad and pulled him away before he could get one foot into the pouch.

All the while, I thought of the glorious advantage Addy was enjoying. Knowing Addy, he would be running between vaults, moving money and rigging the results of the game. He would win, and either Brad or I would come in last. Me, out of spite. Brad, because...

I wasn't really sure. Addy and Brad had always clashed, since before I knew either of them. They had a friendship that dated back to pre-school, and both spoke fondly of their younger years.

Now there was this constant need to poke and prod at each other. A quiet mutual resentment. When had the shift occurred?

Maybe there wasn't a reason for it. Maybe they were incompatible friends and years of knowing each other had brought that fact to bare.

Whatever. It wasn't my problem if they couldn't get along. My thoughts returned to the game at hand. I needed to be doing something. Taking action.

I looked at the hallway.

Yup. Still a burning crater.

It sucked because now none of my effort from this morning would matter. Addy could unravel all of my work, completely uncontested. The thought was like a spark in my mind, looking for kindling to start a fire.

I pinched the spark and forced it to die. Fury was pointless; this was just a game.

There was nothing left to do.

Couldn't escape the vault. Couldn't even bring myself to feel an emotion. Just the waiting, now.

“That’s odd,” Blaine remarked.

I turned to see what he was up to.

Addy’s pouch - which really belonged to Blaine - was in one hand, a green money cube in his other. Seeing that he had gained my attention, he said, “The ‘bag of holding’ is light as a feather right now, but when I do this-,” He dropped the cube into the bag and the bag smacked against the metal floor, “-it becomes too heavy to lift.”

That was strange. It didn't make sense in any laws-of-physics-y way. In fact, it fit better as something arbitrary. Like a videogame mechanic or a rule in Dungeons and Dragons.

“There could be a weight limit,” I speculated, switching to a different mindset, “Or an item limit. Or a volume limit. Wanna find out?”

"I guess," Blaine said, half-heartedly, "Might as well."

We spent the next ten minutes employing the scientific method, placing different amounts, weights, and sizes of objects into the pouches. Brad tried to climb into a pouch again, but we managed to stop him in time.

In the end, we learned the true rule for how the pouch functioned. The bag of holding had an item limit of 81, and placing an additional item into the bag would render it an immovable object, or at least something stupidly heavy.

I was satisfied, and I took a seat against a wall to rest. We had answered a question, however trivial. It was refreshing.

Blaine continued to play with bags, while Brad experimented with the power glove. I watched as he smacked himself across the face. Thankfully, that experiment failed, otherwise he might have snapped his own neck.

I eventually gathered enough courage to ask the question, “Since it no longer matters, which of you broke into my vault?”

I eyed up Brad, knowing it had been him. But Addy’s conspiratorial mind insisted I was wrong, and I had to know for sure.

Blaine’s laugh was one-note, “I actually tried twice, but you got me both times. The first time, you were already in the vault. You almost caught me. The second time...,”

Brad cracked up with laughter. Apparently, he had already heard the story.

“The second time, I was in your vault stashing cubes in the comforter from my bed, when I heard this loud freaking noise outside. And when I tried to leave, the floor was fucking missing! All I could think was, ‘Well played, man.’ So then I had to use the comforter to break my fall, which meant I couldn't use it to store cubes. After that, Brad and I gave up trying to steal from you. Not worth the trouble.”

“Hold the fuck up!” Brad interjected, “That’s not what happened! Blaine called immediately and asked if I would help him take another go at your vault, and I told him it wasn’t worth it.”

“Yeah, ok Brad. We still gave up on it.”

“I gave up. You still wanted to do it!”

I listened to them bicker, though I was more focused on updating my mental model of Blaine.

I had been wrong. My expectations had been violated, and I needed to ensure that I could better predict his actions in the future. I had learned he was willing to play dirty, and I would not be surprised if it happened again.

"'Want' is the wrong word. I would never want to steal from a friend."

"Yeah, obviously. That's not what I'm saying!"

The ding of the elevator cut through the argument, and everyone turned their attention to the far end of the hall. All was hush, apart from the crackle of flames. Addy stepped out of the elevator, turned, and studied us from across the gap. He extended a pointed finger our way.

And broke into a fit of laughter.

“You guys are... still in there!” he said, between whoops and howls, “That’s... fucking priceless!”

Blaine asked Brad for the power glove, then used it to launch a money cube at Addy. Addy let it bounce harmlessly off of his chest, and his laughter swelled.

“Hey, stop that shit! We’re in my vault!” Brad complained. He reached for the glove, intent on yanking it from Blaine’s hand, and a wave of force knocked him against a wall. Brad collapsed onto his face.

I stood abruptly. There was no way Brad wasn’t seriously injured from taking a hit like that. Blaine stood, too-

And then Brad stood.

I stopped. Brad was rubbing the back of his head but seemed mostly fine. He wasn't even phased.

Addy’s laughter echoed down the corridor. I did what I could to ignore it.

Time passed, during which no one really did anything. Addy continued to lob insults and jokes at us from across the gap. Brad had successfully taken the glove back from Blaine. Blaine took the time to stash all of the money cubes from the vault into the two bags of holding, and would occasionally chuck one at Addy. My feet dangled over the gap's edge. I fished for rubble with the grappling guns.

Waiting for the game to end.

When it finally came, it sent my head spinning. Childe’s voice surged through a speaker above us, “The work day will end in 9... 8...,”

I rose to my feet and whirled around, anxious. The announcement had flooded my system with adrenaline.

“7...”

I felt like I needed to be moving, doing things. My time was almost up.

“6...”

But there was nothing left to do. Zero worthwhile options.

“5...”

I looked behind me. Brad was covering his mouth with a hand, yawning. Blaine sat cross-legged with the pouches in his lap.

“4...”

Blaine. I had been wrong about him. He was willing to play dirty and I needed to remember that in the future.

“3...”

Blaine stood then, cranking his arms back, and I realized the future could also be now.

“2...”

Blaine heaved the two pouches out of the vault, sending them down into the smoking rubble far below. My eyes went wide.

“1...”

Brad shouted, cursed, and dashed to the open vault door. Addy’s hysterical laughter crescendoed. Blaine wheeled backward, putting distance between himself and Brad. Shielding his face with his arms...

And Brad screamed.

The scream was wrong. It didn’t sound like any of the right emotions. No anger, no frustration, no grief. Only pain.

I frowned at that. All of this was merely a game, and not even one we had opted to play. There was no need to get emotionally involved. This was a touch dramatic. A tad more than 'sore loser.'

And then it hit me.

“It’s the same as yesterday!” I called out, my mind awakening, “The Cyclops!”

Blaine was running towards his friend. I backpedaled out of his way. The scream stopped, and Brad crumpled, falling forward towards the smoking pit. Blaine snatched at the back of Brad’s white button-down and swung his other arm around Brad’s stomach, pulling him back into the vault.

He lay Brad across the vault floor, feeling for a pulse, and shouting, “Brad, wake up! Are you awake?”

Brad coughed and clenched his eyes tighter shut. He looked... disturbed, like he was conscious during a nightmare.

Blaine spoke to him soothingly, assuring Brad that he was safe and with people who would protect him.

Addy watched from the shelf of wood and carpet on the other end of the hall. Eerily still.

“The Cyclops,” Brad said, his voice hoarse, “It was looking at me. I could see my reflection in his eye.”

“What did he say?” Addy shouted from far away. His voice barely reached us.

Brad coughed out more smoke, and then pounded a fist against the vault floor.

“Please. Can we all stop fucking around and... and try to get out of here?” Brad pleaded, eyes locked shut. Wetness leaked out of them. “We aren’t safe. Everything in my body feels wrong, and I think I’m getting sick.”

To punctuate his statement, Brad turned his head to the side and let loose a splash of brown vomit. His eyes fluttered open, and he pulled the corner of his shirt to his mouth. I could see him hesitate before releasing the clothes and wiping the edges of his mouth with his hand instead.

Blaine clutched his stomach, averting his eyes from the pool of vomit.

I looked between the two, seeing the stress, the nausea, the fear, and the exhaustion. The scene caused me to bit my teeth together a smidge too hard, and the resultant pain sent me over the edge.

I was feeling something too. Something approaching rage.

Surrendering to Ted Lax and my captors had been the wise move. At least, that's what I had told myself. Thinking I didn't have a choice. Of course I had a choice.

I should have never submitted.

Playing the game was no longer an option. Not when it kept ending like this. I- we had all given it our best shot, and the game masters had rewarded us by torturing Brad. Again.

Why had I ever submitted?

“We are absolutely going to ‘stop fucking around and try to get out of here,’” I said, echoing Brad’s sentiment, “We're not going to let this happen again.”

Brad and I made eye contact, and I fought the urge to flinch away. He nodded to me, solemn.

I nodded in turn, then shouted past the ceiling, past the sky, and into the void, “You hear that, Ted Lax? You might as well send us home because we are done playing your twisted, fucked up games!”

Then, acting on instinct, I aimed my notagun and fired at the speaker mounted to the ceiling of the vault. At Ted Lax's precious Childe. When I pulled the trigger again, the speaker was torn from its fixture.

Black foam floated through the air, and pieces of metal clanged against the floor.

It was a pointless gesture, but sometimes words weren't enough.