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“You think this is justice? Destroying everything?”

Victor snarls, his words a mix of anger and despair.

“It’s consequence, Victor. You can’t play with fire and not expect to get burned.

I reply, my tone serious.

He grumbles, brushing ash off his hands again. “This won’t change anything, Aline. You can destroy my shack, but it won’t erase the choices we made out there,” he dedares, his bittemess lingering.

I nod, acknowledging the truth in his words. “You’re right, Victor. But maybe now you’ll think twice before risking everything again.” I say, my voice holding a hint of hope that this chaotic lesson might lead to some reflection.

But Victor continues to grumble under his breath, frustration etched on his face as he sifts through the ashes of his once–standing shack.

I can’t contain my anger any longer.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

I scream at him, my voice cutting through the quiet aftermath. The forest, with its ancient trees, seems to echo my frustration. Victor looks up, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of irritation and indifference.

“How serious it was out there! While you were up here having a vacation, people died,” I continue, my words a desperate attempt to make him understand the gravity of our situation. “We started as a thousand, and now we’re probably down to just 40!”

Victor rolls his eyes, a dismissive gesture that only fuels my frustration.

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“You always love a good drama, Alina. It’s probably not as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

He retorts, his tone laced with sarcasm. I shake my head, bewildered by his lack of comprehension.

“It’s not drama, Victor. It’s reality. People lost their lives, and all you care about is your precious shack!” I shoot back, my anger bubbling to the surface. The forest, with its timeless presence, seems to absorb the tension between us.

Victor brushes off my words with another eye roll. “I had a TV in the shack, your know. I saw what was happening. Everything’s probably just for dramatics anyway.” he quips, his dismissive attitude grating on my nerves.

I shake my head in disbelief. “I know you think this is just some show, Victor. I was like that too. But I know better now. Out here – It’s life and death.”

He remains unfazed, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re always so serious, Alina. Not everything is a matter of life and death,” he replies, his nonchalance infuriating. I can’t fathom how he can be so carefree, especially after what we’ve been through.

“You’re just close–headed, Victor. You don’t see the bigger picture,” I snap, my frustration boiling over. The forest, with its ancient trees as stoic witnesses, stands. silent as our clash intensifies.

Victor leans against a charred tree, the remnants of his shack scattered around us. “You’re the one who doesn’t get it, Alina. This is just a game. A game I’m playing to win,” he declares, the smirk never leaving his face. I’m dumbfounded by his

stubbornness.

“It’s not just a game. It’s survival. And your ‘vacation‘ mentality is putting everyone at risk,” I retort, my words a plea for him to wake up from his delusion. But he remains obstinate, his eyes reflecting a detachment from reality.

The forest, with its enigmatic presence, seems to amplify the frustration that hangs in the air. “You’re overthinking it, Alina. Relax, enjoy the show.”

Victor adds, as if the chaos around us is merely entertainment for him.

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storm of emotions within me. “I can’t believe you’re still

a careless gesture that only intensifies my exasperation. “I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?”

toward the closest camera, perched high on a branch and

his burned–down shack lingers around us, yet he seems unfazed, embracing the attention as if he’s center stage in some twisted spectacle. My jaw tightens with frustration as he takes a bow, his movements extravagant, a

his voice carrying an unnatural cheerfulness that grates on my nerves.

My eyes ar

witnessing. Is this really happening? as I glare at Victor, who’s now addressing the camera with a grin that’s all

charm.

you enjoyed the little show back there. Alina decided to

a bit.”

towards the remnants of his

resisting the urge to march over and silence him.

but alas, it’s no more, thanks to our dear Alina. So, I thought, why not reach out to my lovely sponsors and see if we can

can’t believe he’s asking for sponsors to pitch in

frustration deepens as he flirts

to contribute to the Victor’s Shack

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Fund?”

its breath,

and flamboyant gestures, remains committed to his

his flamboyant gestures, his flirtations, all of it feels. like a mockery of the gravity of our situation.

Victor! You don’t deserve any sponsors. This is not a game; people died out there!” I hiss through gritted teeth, my palm pressed firmly against

undeterred. He shoves me away, the force of his movement sending me stumbling backward. “What’s your problem, Alina? I’m just trying to make

of their deaths. This is not the time for your self–centered

“They’re not dead because of me.

Alina.

have already mated and left. They can’t play the game anymore. It

widen

of my anger propelling him backward. “This is not a game! People’s lives are at stake, and you’re treating it like

as he glares

to calm the storm of emotions within

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take a deep

has this uncanny ability to push all the

to myself, the words a quiet mantra

storm within.

to prattle on, addressing the invisible audience he

Victor’s Shack Rebuilding Fund? I will ensure that sponsorships are not taken lightly!

mad at him won’t change his mindset,” I mutter to myself, the realization sinking in like a stone settling

who wouldn’t want to contribute to this handsome face

just shut up?!”

the tension in the air, thick

accusing eyes.

voice sharp like the edge of a blade. His frustration is

turned this into a circus, Victor.

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