"Hold the tension wire exactly at this height," Lyra instructed, her fingers deftly maniputing the salvaged fiber. "Too high and they'll walk under it. Too low and they'll trip over it instead of activating the snare."

  Mace, a stocky man with a perpetual scowl, adjusted his grip on the wire. "This seems like a lot of work when we could just hunt them directly."

  Lyra didn't look up from where she was securing the trigger mechanism. "Direct confrontation means risk. Risk means potential injury. Injured pyers become easy targets." She tested the tension, then nodded in satisfaction. "This way, we fulfill our quota without exposing ourselves."

  The four other members of her temporary alliance watched with varying degrees of interest as Lyra completed the complex trap system. They had formed this uneasy group three days ago—five strangers thrown together by circumstance and the brutal reality of the weekly killing quota.

  "Where did you learn this stuff?" asked Daria, the only other woman in the group. She was thin with quick, nervous movements, constantly scanning their surroundings.

  "Necessity," Lyra replied simply. She stood, dusting off her hands on worn pants. "The trap is set. Now we need to establish the observation point."

  She led them to a dense thicket approximately fifty meters from the trap. With practiced efficiency, she created a small blind using branches and undergrowth, just rge enough for two people to watch the trap site comfortably.

  "We'll rotate in pairs," she expined. "Two-hour shifts. When the trap springs, only the observers approach. The rest stay hidden as backup."

  "And this fulfills our quota how exactly?" asked Jax, the youngest of the group, barely old enough for mandatory impntation.

  "Pyers follow patterns," Lyra expined, pulling out a crude map she'd sketched on a piece of bark. "This crossing point has seen three different groups pass through in the st day alone. They follow the easy path, avoiding the thornbrush to the south and the marshy ground to the north."

  She pointed to their trap location. "We're not the only ones hunting to fill our quota. When others pass through here—particurly lone pyers or small groups—the trap will immobilize them long enough for a clean elimination."

  The others exchanged gnces, impressed despite themselves. None of them had thought to track pyer movements systematically.

  "And if no pyers come?" asked Krell, the rgest and quietest of the group.

  Lyra gestured to smaller traps she'd set in a perimeter around their position. "Those will catch forest creatures. Half-credit for non-sentient eliminations is better than nothing."

  "Smart," Daria admitted. "Really smart."

  Lyra shrugged. "It's just observation and pattern recognition." She reached into her pack and pulled out several small devices cobbled together from salvaged materials. "These are motion sensors. Crude but functional. When something trips the perimeter, they'll vibrate."

  She distributed the sensors, showing each alliance member how to attach them to their wrists. Jax turned his over, examining the makeshift technology with obvious admiration.

  "You made these?" he asked, eyes wide. "From what?"

  "Bits of interface housing, some wire from abandoned equipment, and vibration components from discarded armor," Lyra expined. "Nothing special, but they work."

  Mace snorted. "Nothing special? Most of us can barely operate our interfaces, let alone modify equipment."

  Lyra didn't respond to the compliment, if that's what it was. Instead, she continued her instructions. "We'll set up camp here. Minimal fire, cold rations when possible. Krell and Daria take first watch. Jax and I will relieve you. Mace gets rest period first since he took extra watch yesterday."

  The group dispersed to their assigned tasks with minimal argument. After three days, they'd learned that Lyra's systems worked. Her traps had already secured them four eliminations—two forest predators and two pyers who had underestimated the ragtag group. For a temporary alliance of necessity, they functioned surprisingly well.

  As night fell, Lyra sat at the edge of their small camp, making further modifications to her equipment. She'd already adjusted her standard-issue boots with better traction soles salvaged from abandoned gear. Now she was working on improving her interface's dispy opacity, allowing for better nighttime visibility without compromising her position with telltale light.

  Jax approached, watching her work with undisguised curiosity. "How do you know which components to modify without breaking the whole thing?" he asked.

  Lyra's hands didn't pause as she carefully adjusted a tiny connection. "Most technology follows logical patterns. Interfaces especially—they're designed for mass production, so they're actually simpler than they appear."

  She demonstrated by pointing out connection points on her own interface. "See these junction points? They're standardized. Once you understand the basic architecture, modifications are just about working within those parameters."

  Jax leaned closer. "Could you show me how to modify mine? The brightness is too high at night, makes me an easy target."

  Lyra hesitated, then nodded. "Simple adjustment. Hand it over, I'll show you."

  As Jax removed his wrist interface, Lyra noticed Mace watching them from the other side of camp, his expression unreadable in the deepening dusk. She filed the observation away—Mace had been increasingly interested in her technical skills, though he tried to hide it behind his perpetual scowl.

  She showed Jax the basic modification, guiding his hands through the process rather than doing it herself. "Learning by doing," she expined when he fumbled a connection. "It'll stick better if you make the mistakes yourself."

  After Jax successfully completed the modification, his interface dispying at a much more subtle brightness, he grinned with accomplishment. "That's amazing. What else can you modify?"

  "A lot," Lyra said, beginning to pack away her tools. "But modifications draw attention. The Game system notices anomalies."

  "Is that why you keep your interface covered when not using it?" Jax asked.

  Lyra nodded. "Standard interfaces have monitoring capabilities. Best to limit exposure."

  "Paranoid much?" Mace had approached without either of them noticing. Lyra silently chided herself for the pse in awareness.

  "Caution keeps you alive," she replied evenly, securing her tool pouch and slipping it into an inner pocket.

  Mace sat down across from them. "So what other tricks are you hiding in that interface of yours?"

  Lyra met his gaze steadily. "Nothing that would interest you. Just survival modifications."

  "I'm very interested in survival," Mace countered, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

  The tension was broken by Daria's return from watch duty. "Nothing on the trap line," she reported. "But we spotted a group moving through the valley to the east. Looked like they were tracking something—or someone."

  "Other hunters," Lyra concluded, standing up. "We should move our observation point. If they're sweeping this area, our current position is too obvious."

  The group quickly packed their minimal camp, following Lyra to a more defensible position on slightly higher ground. As they settled in, Lyra assigned new watch rotations, deliberately pairing herself with Krell, whose quiet reliability she trusted more than Mace's unpredictable moods.

  "You should rest," Krell told her as they took up their observation position. "You've been working all day."

  Lyra shook her head. "I'm fine. Better to stay alert with the other hunting party nearby."

  Krell nodded in understanding. They sat in comfortable silence for nearly an hour before he spoke again.

  "Mace is pnning something," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving the forest below them. "Been watching you too carefully."

  "I noticed," Lyra replied. "Any idea what he's thinking?"

  "Your modifications. He was asking Jax questions after you showed him the interface adjustment."

  Lyra sighed. This was exactly why she preferred working alone. Groups inevitably developed internal conflicts, often over the most valuable skills or equipment.

  "Thanks for the warning," she said.

  The night passed without incident, though Lyra slept lightly, waking at the slightest sound. When dawn broke, she was already up, checking the trap systems through a small monocur she'd modified from broken equipment parts.

  "Movement at the north trap," she announced quietly to the now-awake group. "Something rge."

  Daria peered through the foliage. "Pyer or creature?"

  Lyra adjusted her monocur. "Pyer. Alone. Moving cautiously."

  "Perfect," Mace said, already reaching for his makeshift spear. "One elimination credit coming up."

  "Wait," Lyra cautioned. "Something's not right. They're moving too deliberately, checking the ground repeatedly."

  "They're looking for traps," Krell realized.

  Lyra nodded. "This isn't an amateur. We need to—"

  She was interrupted by a sharp snap from the direction of the trap. The lone figure had triggered the mechanism, but instead of being caught, they had deliberately sprung it from a safe distance using a thrown object.

  "They're hunting the hunters," Lyra murmured. "Clever."

  "What now?" Jax asked, nervousness evident in his voice.

  "We relocate," Lyra decided. "Quietly. They're expecting us to approach the triggered trap."

  The group gathered their minimal supplies efficiently, a skill they'd practiced repeatedly under Lyra's instruction. As they prepared to move out, Lyra noticed her tool pouch had shifted position in her pack—slightly, but enough to indicate it had been disturbed.

  A quick check confirmed her suspicion: several of her specialized tools were missing. She looked up to see Mace already moving away from camp, his back deliberately turned.

  "Mace," she called, her voice low but carrying. "You have something that belongs to me."

  The group froze, tension immediately filling the air. Mace turned slowly, his expression a careful bnk. "Don't know what you're talking about."

  "My calibration tools and interface bypass connector," Lyra said evenly. "Not much use without knowing how to use them."

  "Sounds like specialized equipment," Mace replied, a hint of challenge in his voice. "Might be valuable to the right buyer."

  Krell stepped slightly closer to Lyra, while Daria and Jax exchanged uncomfortable gnces.

  "We agreed to share resources," Lyra reminded him. "Not steal them."

  "Temporary alliance," Mace countered. "Emphasis on temporary. Each of us looking out for ourselves in the end."

  Lyra nodded slowly. "True. Which is why I'm giving you one chance to return what you took. Otherwise, I leave—taking my trap designs and hunting expertise with me."

  "You need us as much as we need you," Mace said, but uncertainty had crept into his voice.

  "I survived alone before finding you," Lyra replied calmly. "I can do so again."

  The standoff sted several tense seconds before Jax broke the silence.

  "Just give it back, Mace. Her traps have kept us all alive and on quota. Worth more than whatever you could trade those tools for."

  Krell said nothing, but his imposing presence beside Lyra spoke volumes. Daria nodded in agreement with Jax.

  Mace's scowl deepened as he realized he was outnumbered. With obvious reluctance, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the stolen tools, tossing them onto the ground between them.

  "Didn't mean anything by it," he muttered. "Just insurance."

  Lyra retrieved her tools, checking them quickly before securing them properly. "Insurance is pnning ahead," she corrected him. "Stealing from allies is just making new enemies."

  She turned to the group. "We need to move. That hunter might have friends."

  As they moved through the forest, Lyra ensured she remained at the rear of the group, maintaining distance from Mace. The temporary alliance had just become more temporary in her mind. She began mentally calcuting how long until the next quota deadline, and whether she could fulfill it alone if necessary.

  By midday, they had established a new position near a small stream, well away from their compromised trap site. While the others refilled water containers, Lyra quietly constructed several simple arm systems around their perimeter—straightforward enough that any of them could replicate them, but effective nonetheless.

  Krell approached as she finished setting the st arm. "You could have left," he observed quietly. "After what Mace did."

  Lyra secured the trigger mechanism before answering. "Quotas are easier with help. For now."

  "For now," Krell agreed. He hesitated, then added, "If you do leave, give some of us warning. Not everyone in this group is like Mace."

  Lyra studied him, then nodded once. "I'll remember that."

  As they rejoined the others, Lyra began teaching them how to construct the simpler traps in her repertoire—knowledge that would serve them well regardless of how long their alliance sted. She was careful, however, to keep her more advanced techniques to herself, along with the most sophisticated modifications to her equipment.

  In the Game, knowledge was survival. And survival, Lyra had learned long before entering this nightmare, meant always having an advantage that others didn't know about.