In a dirty room, somewhere in one of the more impoverished parts of Seoul, there is nothing but abandonment.

In fact, the entire street is as such, empty and left for ruin.

It is a broken memory of a time of shattered businesses and empty stomachs and entire cities in the dark, left by the government to serve as a reminder of the necessity of the Game.

A dusty couch, almost completely dissolved by time and rats and mold sits against a wall covered in peeling, rotting wallpaper, lighter patches where photographs once hung barely visible anymore.

The only other thing left in the room is a television set, its screen lit, broken fragments of sound pushing through the dusty silence, broken images dancing across the screen, intermingled with static.

Today marks the end of the 50th Game.

The television in the abandoned ro