Live, die, repeat. Life was just a never ending cycle of death. Nothing had meaning for him anymore, everything was the same, over and over again. Same clothes, same food, same people, same conversations, same goddamned routine all the time. Frankly, he just wanted out. It didn't matter anyway, they were always one step behind, there was no chance of winning... He did not matter in this war.

Cage continued picking his food, just the same as the past few months. Then he felt a shadow over him. That had never happened before.

"Is there something on my face?" He asked, internally grinning at the words Rita had said to him on more occasions than he could count. He turned. It was Rita.

"Actually, you have some sauce on your cheek"

"Oh" he grabbed a napkin, and cleaned up. She was still there. But why?

It must have shown on his face, because she shook her head and asked him "Aren't you new?"

No. "Yes"

"This is actually good food. Every newbie enjoys the first meal. Only a veteran soldier actually hates it because it's one of the only things they serve out here. And you have the most pained look I've seen in a while."

He blinked. She was spot on, of course. But he didn't feel like explaining why he was a veteran on his first day of battle.

He deflected. "So how do you do it? Eat the same thing over and over?"

"Ah" she said, as she finally set her tray down and sat across him. "But it's not really the same, you have to look for the differences. Or make one yourself."

She grabbed the hottest sauce and poured it down her plate as if there were no tomorrow. Not that she knew that was actually the case.

Rita took a bite off her food, and she looked like she enjoyed it, then she eyed him. As if daring him.

How could he resist? He followed her lead, and soon the whole caffeteria was gathered around them, betting on this game of sorts. It was the silliest thing, but it was so spontaneous that before he knew it, he was having the time of his life.