Retcon

Once again Signar was allowed into a new section of the combantant’s quarters and once again there were more furnishings. Every battle got him more personal space, more provisions. This cell had food already prepared, not that he wanted to eat. There was a refresher, and a faucet allowing him easy access to water. The bed was even elevated off the floor, more than a cot, it was an actual bed.

“Signar, that was, FANTASTIC!” Z’s face showed just how happy he was with the last battle. “How in the world did you think of that? Decapitation is one thing, but to eat his brains… WOW! That’s next level thinking. And you won’t believe the offer for the next round, this almost never happens. You’ve been offered to skip to round seven, the Triosaur! I’m actually making money on your now, and so are you, not much, but hey, most gladiators never turn a profit. You really got the crowd going!"

“He knew me.” Signar ignored the excited chatter.

Z had a hard time following the sudden shift in train of thought. “What?”

“The Stinge, he knew my species. I don’t understand how that is possible.” Signar walked to the bars between him and Z. “I want you to get me some answers.”

“You two didn’t talk…how do you know…” Z’s face scrunched in understanding, but he didn’t want to believe it.

“My kind can absorb information from the dead, that’s why I consumed his memories, which included knowing my people.”

“The Moltin have been part of the galactic history for a long time…” Z offered.

“No, that’s not true.” Signar shuffled in place, he looked down trying to come to terms with this revelation. “That’s impossible.”

“What’s the problem?”

“My memories are a lie?” Signar had to doubt everything he believed. Was he not the first to leave his planet? Did it even matter? It wouldn’t if he didn’t survive these battles. “Nevermind. I don’t want to advance to a more difficult opponent. Just continue the normal progression.”

“Oh, it’s not up to you. The amount of money I’ll make from a boosted round, it’s obscene. I know it’ll be your last battle, but I’ll be set for life.” Z chuckled, “I guess you will too.”

Signar reaffirmed his desire to kill Z. Now it would not be quick. “Tell me about the Triosaur.”

“It’s a massive throwback to a prehistoric time. Three legs, powerful, HUGE, just all teeth and spikes, and hunger. It’s the most physical opponent in the games. No ballistics can pierce it’s skin, at least anything smaller than an actual spaceship. You can’t beat it, but for every moment it’s not crushing you, or turning you into a brown dirty smear on the floor, I’ll be raking it in. The odds against you are so astronomical...”

“Can I wager?”

“I suppose, as long as it’s for you to win.”

“Put whatever money I have into it then.”

“Waste of perfectly good credits, but you’ve been a good investment, it’s the least I can do.” Z then offered, “Anything else?”

“No.” Signar laid on the bed, and quickly fell asleep. He didn’t know how long he had until the next battle, but getting some rest seemed like a good idea.