_{Maybe it’s my eyes playing tricks, or the moonlight, but the fog seems to be transforming. Yes, it’s becoming thicker, as if it has pressed up against a glass window and is being forced to condense. I squint harder and realize the fingers no longer protrude from it. In fact, it has stopped moving forward entirely. Like the other horrors I have witnessed in the arena, it has reached the end of its territory. Either that, or the Gamemakers have decided not to kill us just yet.}