I sat against a wall of the room we had originally been sent to-I never thought I would be so relieved to see it. I tried to block the fight I had just been through out of my mind, but I kept remembering how I had stood in the arena, methodically shooting the Wretches down. How they eventually killed themselves, seeing all hope lost. That was when I had a horrible realization-they were conscious. Should I have felt bad for killing them? Did they hate me for it? Either way, nothing I could do about it.
I looked down at the plate of steak in front of me; it looked delicious. The Devil had offered us whatever we wanted, I decided on this simple yet enjoyable dish. Of course I considered it could be poisonous, but the bastard could kill us whenever he wanted to. No use trying to avoid it, I was ravenous. May as well die this way.
As I was about to take a bite, I considered the alternatives to death-maybe this was some kind of poison, that would turn me into one of those Wretches? Maybe they had previously been a group of soldiers just like us, only to become fodder for the next group? I looked around; some other people were eating and they seemed fine. I reluctantly took a bite; it tasted delicious. Sighing, I continued to eat, and began to habitually clean my rifle with the edges of my clothing.
