[It's the last day, it's do or die time. Time to prove himself, not just as a Player, but as a future Reaper. He didn't have a life to return to; either Dusknoir had won, or the world he lived in no longer existed. As far as he could see, this was his only option. But Rhyme, Rhyme deserved better. She didn't deserve to be here.

The 'mon taps the ground in frustration, grunting. Concrete. That meant hiding underground wasn't a very viable option, not without the ability to dig like a Diglett.]

We find a place to hide, or we take the offensive. Those are the only other options for survival. Fight or flight; when flight isn't an option then you simply hide like a Squirtle in its shell until the danger passes.