[FINALE!] Daily's Reality Sims Squid Games

100 Players have fallen, however, 5 still remain for the finale! Thank you everyone who signed up or got signed up for this, it was a blast to simulate. Hope ya'll enjoy the finale and goodluck to everyone who made it past a hundred people to the finale. -------------------------------------------- Remaining Cast: Bagel camell22 CasinoCheese dumblonde JessieKowalski -------------------------------------------- Five people. One hundred and five walked through the doors on the first day. Five remain. The dormitory that once held all of them — the noise, the fear, the alliances forming in the dark, the thirty-four bodies left on the grass after Red Light Green Light, the twenty-seven tins of shattered honeycomb candy, the twenty-two people who fell from those platforms, the eleven marble games, the broken glass, the rope — all of it has compressed down to this. Five bunks, five faces, one room, and somewhere in the facility, one more game. Nobody sleeps. CasinoCheese sits on the edge of their bunk in the dark and doesn't pretend to try. They have been awake since the glass bridge — since the moment they stepped off platform 12 and onto the far ledge and understood, for the first time with real clarity, that winning this thing was genuinely possible. Before that, survival had been the framework. Now survival is achieved. What remains is something else entirely — something heavier, something that doesn't have a clean name. They look across the dormitory. dumblonde is awake too. They both know it. Neither of them speaks for a long time. Then dumblonde says quietly: "We're going to have to play each other eventually." CasinoCheese doesn't answer right away. The statement doesn't need a response — it's not a question, not a threat, just the shape of what's coming, spoken aloud so it exists in the room between them instead of only in their heads. "I know," CasinoCheese says finally. dumblonde nods. Neither of them says anything else. There is nothing else to say. The alliance they built over six games — quiet, durable, barely visible from the outside — has always had this moment waiting at the end of it. Two people who trusted each other completely, now sitting in a room five players from the finish line, understanding that trust and competition are not mutually exclusive. That you can mean everything you said and still have to do what you have to do. They sit in the dark on opposite bunks until the lights come on. They don't sleep. They don't need to. On the other side of the dormitory, Bagel and camell22 are having a different conversation — louder, more tangled, more unresolved. They have been talking for over an hour. What started as a quiet debrief of the glass bridge has become something more honest and more uncomfortable. The closeness they've built across six games — the warmth of it, the ease of it — has run directly into the arithmetic of what's left. Five players. One winner. The math doesn't care about comfort. "It was always going to end up here," camell22 says. Not bitterly. Just factually, the way people state facts when they've spent an hour trying to find another way to frame them and failed. Bagel looks at the ceiling. "I know. I just didn't want to think about it until I had to." "You have to now." "I know." They sit with it for a while. The bond between them is real — it accumulated over six games, through dormitory conversations and shared silences and the small acts of generosity that become significant when you're in a place like this. Neither of them wants to be the one who ends the other's run. Both of them understand that wanting doesn't change the game. "Whoever makes it through," Bagel says eventually, "they earned it." camell22 looks at them for a moment. "Yeah," they say. "They did." It is the most honest thing either of them has said since they got here. It is also, without either of them saying it, a goodbye — the kind you give someone when you're not sure you'll get another chance. JessieKowalski is the only one in the dormitory who is actually trying to sleep, and the only one who can't manage it. They lie flat on their back in the bunk closest to the door — arms at their sides, eyes closed, breathing controlled — running through the mechanics of every game they've survived as if drilling for an exam. Red Light Green Light: stillness. Dalgona: patience. Tug of War: rhythm. Marbles: Hunter. Glass Bridge: information. Every game reducible to a principle. Every principle something they can hold onto. The final game is the only one they haven't solved yet. Spikedcurley would have had thoughts about this. JessieKowalski had run practices with them in the dormitory corridor — timing tiles, testing balance, sharpening nerve. Spikedcurley had fallen at glass panel 12, one step from the ledge, and JessieKowalski had crossed that same panel safe without them. The weight of that has been with them since. Not guilt exactly — this place isn't designed for guilt to survive in — but something adjacent. Something that sharpens into motivation when they let it. They open their eyes and stare at the ceiling. Five people. One game left. JessieKowalski is ready. -------------------------------------------- The morning of the final game, the five remaining players eat their last meal in the facility together — rice, water, nothing more. The table that once seated over a hundred people now holds five, clustered at one end, the rest of the chairs empty. Nobody mentions the empty chairs. camell22 eats in silence. Bagel eats slowly, measuring every spoonful like it's a decision. CasinoCheese and dumblonde sit adjacent to each other, not speaking, but present in each other's space in the way that has defined their quiet alliance from the beginning. JessieKowalski eats quickly and efficiently and sits back and watches the other four with the careful attention they have brought to every room in this facility. The intercom crackles. A guard's voice, flat and precise: "Final game. All players to the arena in ten minutes." Five chairs scrape back from the table. -------------------------------------------- The Squid Game. The game that gives this entire competition its name — a Korean children's game played on a shape drawn in the ground: a square body at the base, a triangular neck rising from it, and a circular head at the top. In this version the shape has been scaled across the entire arena floor — the square body alone thirty feet across, the boundary lines thick and bright on the concrete. All five players enter at once. Any player pushed or driven beyond the boundary lines is eliminated. No rounds, no resets. Last player inside the boundary wins. -------------------------------------------- The five players walk into the arena and spread across the square body of the squid shape. JessieKowalski moves left. Bagel and camell22 drift right, close to each other without making it obvious. dumblonde takes the center. CasinoCheese settles toward the back edge, watching. A tone sounds. JessieKowalski drives into the center immediately — hard and purposeful, refusing to wait. They collide with dumblonde in the center of the square and the two exchange drives while Bagel and camell22 hold the right side, covering each other's backs. CasinoCheese repositions quietly from the back without committing. JessieKowalski cycles through all four opponents in rapid succession — burning energy, landing hits that move people but not enough. They end up between dumblonde on the right and CasinoCheese closing from the left, with camell22 cutting off the path back to center. dumblonde drives into JessieKowalski's right shoulder. camell22 adds pressure from the left simultaneously — not a hard hit, just enough to compound the redirect. JessieKowalski stumbles toward the left boundary, plants, holds for one second. dumblonde presses again. The left foot crosses the line. 5th — JessieKowalski. -------------------------------------------- Four players. The left side of the square opens up. Bagel and camell22 stay paired on the right side, coordinating without speaking. dumblonde holds center. CasinoCheese moves fluidly between the back and left sections — always repositioning, never overcommitting. CasinoCheese drives at Bagel from the left side — a sharp, angled push that sends Bagel stumbling toward the right boundary. Bagel absorbs it and plants at eight feet from the line. camell22 moves to help but dumblonde cuts across to intercept, keeping camell22 occupied in the center while CasinoCheese resets and drives at Bagel again. Bagel is fighting alone now. camell22 is pinned by dumblonde in the center, trying to disengage, unable to close the distance. CasinoCheese drives Bagel's right side a third time — the same angle, and Bagel's footing gives slightly on the third hit. Three stumbling steps right. The boundary is two feet away. Bagel braces. Holds at the line for a grinding four seconds. CasinoCheese drives once more and Bagel's right foot crosses the line before they can stop it. 4th — Bagel. -------------------------------------------- Three players. camell22 is alone now, the pair broken. camell22 understands what they're facing and commits to aggression immediately — no point in conserving energy with two opponents fresh and coordinated. They drive at dumblonde hard, going low beneath the center of gravity. The hit disrupts dumblonde's footing — two stumbling steps toward the left boundary. CasinoCheese moves in from camell22's right and drives their shoulder before they can press dumblonde further. camell22 pivots and fires back at CasinoCheese — a hard direct exchange that pushes CasinoCheese back three steps. For a moment camell22 has the upper hand, buying space, keeping both opponents from coordinating. Then dumblonde recovers and closes from behind. camell22 is now in the center with CasinoCheese in front and dumblonde behind. They drive at CasinoCheese trying to break through and create space. CasinoCheese holds. dumblonde drives into camell22's back simultaneously. camell22 overextends on the forward push and their momentum carries them forward into CasinoCheese's redirect, which swings them sideways toward the bottom boundary. camell22 tries to brake — three steps, two — but both feet go over the bottom line before they stop. 3rd — camell22. -------------------------------------------- Two players. CasinoCheese and dumblonde stand across the center of the square. Neither moves for a moment. The dormitory conversation made physical — both of them knew this was always where it ended. The alliance they built across six games, now reduced to one boundary and two people. dumblonde moves first. A direct drive into CasinoCheese's left shoulder that generates real stumble — two steps toward the left boundary. CasinoCheese recovers and answers with a hard right-side drive that pushes dumblonde toward the right edge. dumblonde holds at ten feet from the line. The fight settles into sustained exchanges — dumblonde more aggressive, CasinoCheese more efficient. Four minutes of drives and redirects, the boundary lines drifting in and out of danger for both of them. Neither gets close enough to be in real trouble. Then CasinoCheese creates a sequence. Three consecutive drives into dumblonde's right side — same angle each time — pulling a defensive response that gradually commits dumblonde's weight right. On the fourth drive CasinoCheese cuts left, catching dumblonde mid-adjustment. dumblonde stumbles left. Four steps — the left boundary is six feet away. dumblonde fires back hard, reversing the pressure, walking CasinoCheese toward the bottom boundary with a sustained forward drive. CasinoCheese braces at four feet from the line and holds. A deadlock — both players chest-to-chest, spending everything to hold position. dumblonde shifts weight to change the drive angle. Their left foot slides one inch — just bad footing, nothing more — and for a half-second the weight distribution is wrong. CasinoCheese feels it through the contact and responds instantly with a sharp lateral drive into the compromised side. dumblonde stumbles right. Three steps, then a fourth they couldn't stop. The right boundary line is right there. Their heel crosses it. The guard raises their flag. dumblonde looks down at their foot over the line. Looks up at CasinoCheese standing inside the boundary, breathing hard. Everything between them sits in that look — all six games, every conversation in the dark, the quiet alliance that carried them both to the last two standing. dumblonde nods once. CasinoCheese nods back. 2nd — dumblonde. The door at the far end of the arena opens. CasinoCheese stands alone in the squid. 🏆 1st — CasinoCheese. WINNER. -------------------------------------------- Thanks everyone for reading this and being apart of the season! The results were simulated before Episode 1 began so I knew the winner and everything so it was so funny to see ya'lls comments. Everyone leaving positive sometimes made my day. Below are some important links such as the group where every season is archived, the directory that has easy blog access to every season, and a spreadsheet has a lot of details for chart lovers! Episodes: https://kovaze.com/blog/120794 Group: https://kovaze.com/group/15 Directory: https://kovaze.com/blog/92713. Spreadsheet: https://bit.ly/4bsRZgO That just about concludes this season! Thank you everyone who has gotten this far, this was a ton of fun to run. If any of yall notice any mistakes please feel free to point out and I'll change it. Appreciate feedback as well I could use to improve simulations down the line as well! CONGRATS CasinoCheese! -------------------------------------------- Signups for Season 13 are open now if you'd like to see yourself in there! https://kovaze.com/blog/119849