“Neither do I,” she replied.

“No,” Miel rasped. “You know the odds.”

The world went silent. Then Miel screamed. Lira stood on a metal plate in the Launch Room, wearing a simple black tunic. A hologram flickered before her: the arena. A sprawling concrete maze of collapsed buildings, rusted bridges, and an artificial river of sludge. The Gamemakers called it “The Scorched Borough.” To Lira, it looked like home.