Ethan felt it.
A faint, almost imperceptible tremor beneath him.
The ground shaking.
Slow. Subtle.
But there.
And that meant one thing.
Something was coming.
Something big.
Something that could change everything.
But he just needed—
More time.
Just a little more time.
Ethan's legs buckled completely.
His breath came out ragged, unstable, weak.
His body collapsed.
The cold, cracked road pressed against his cheek as he laid there, unmoving, his chest heaving violently.
His fingers twitched.
His limbs shuddered.
Like he was at his limit.
Like he couldn't move anymore.
Like he had finally—
Given up.
The Shape Shifter stopped.
Watching.
Studying.
Its grotesque, twisted Kia-face stretched into a wide, disturbing grin.
It had won.
Or at least—
That's what Ethan wanted it to think.
Ethan had always seemed dumb.
He was never the best strategist.
Never the logical genius in a room full of people.
When it came to rational problem-solving, he had always fallen behind.
He didn't have Ivy's intelligence.
Didn't have Toby's calculations.
Didn't have Samuel's careful thinking.
And most of all—
He didn't have Karlos's logical thinking.
Karlos had been the brain.
The one who always thought ahead, calculated risks, made the safest choice.
When they were kids, Karlos was the one who stopped Ethan from making reckless decisions.
The one who kept him grounded.
The one who always had a plan.
And now—Karlos was gone.
Ethan had no one left to think for him.
No one to stop him from making a mistake.
No one to pull him back when he went too far.
So he had to think for himself.
And unlike Karlos—
He didn't follow logic.
He followed instinct.
Creativity.
While everyone else saw walls, rules, and limitations—
Ethan saw possibilities.
He saw gaps in the system, loopholes, ways to twist reality to his advantage.
And now—
He was proving it.
The Shape Shifter stood tall, looming over Ethan's motionless body.
Its grotesque, mutated Kia-face twisted into something inhumanly delighted.
It had won.
Its prey was broken.
Completely at its mercy.
It didn't need to talk anymore.
Didn't need to play with him.
Because it had already dragged him into despair.
And now—
It was time to eat.
The monster's jaw creaked open, unnaturally wide, its serrated teeth stretching outward like knives.
The stench hit Ethan's face immediately.
A putrid, disgusting stench of decay.
Like a rotting pig carcass left in the sun.
It was hot, damp, suffocating.
And yet—
Ethan didn't flinch.
He didn't scream.
Didn't beg.
Didn't even tremble.
He just laid there.
Resting.
Recovering.
Waiting.
And then—
With his eyes half-lidded, breath still ragged, voice quiet but firm—
He spoke.
"You are a fucking idiot."
The Shape Shifter froze.
Its grotesque, twisted Kia-face contorted in confusion, its wide, unsettling eyes flickering with something almost… human.
For the first time, it hesitated.
Ethan smirked.
Because he knew what was coming.
DUM. DUM. DUM. DUM.
The ground shook.
The air vibrated with something monstrous.
DUM. DUM. DUM. DUM.
The tremors grew stronger, pounding like war drums—
Like the heartbeat of death itself.
Something massive was coming.
Something unstoppable.
And then—
The Vorator charged into view.
A colossal, nightmarish beast, its hulking form tearing through the darkness with terrifying speed.
It wasn't hunting.
It wasn't stalking.
It was rampaging.
A predator that killed everything in its path.
Ethan gritted his teeth.
This was the plan.
Get the Shape Shifter to deal with the Vorator.
Karlos had thought of the same thing in Phase 0.
But Karlos had died.
And now—Ethan was trying it again.
Would it work?
Or was this the moment his luck finally ran out?
The Vorator charged forward, its grotesque, hulking body closing the distance at terrifying speed.
Its goal?
To kill everything in its way.
Ethan.
The Shape Shifter.
Both of them.
Ethan's body tensed.
This was it.
This was his only chance.
Would the Shape Shifter fight back?
Or would it realize what was happening—
And turn on him instead?
His fate was about to be decided.
And in that moment—
Ethan ran.
His legs surged forward, muscles screaming, but his stamina restored just enough from resting.
The second the Shape Shifter turned its back on him—
He took his chance.
This was it.
This was his only shot.
Behind him, the Vorator let out a bone-shaking, guttural roar, its massive form closing the distance with terrifying speed.
The Shape Shifter hesitated.
For the first time, it was the prey.
It had human intelligence.
It had Kia's memories.
And now—
It had fear.
Ethan didn't dare look back.
He couldn't afford to.
Because no matter who won that fight—
Whoever survived was coming after him next.
And he had to be gone before that happened.
He ran.
Faster.
Faster.
He wasn't just running for his life.
He was running to escape fate itself.
The Shape Shifter had no choice.
It couldn't run.
The Vorator had already closed the distance.
It was too late.
So it did the only thing it could—it fought.
The crawling beast, the human-like monster that hunted with intelligence and instinct alike, now turned its focus on stopping the Vorator.
Its limbs tensed.
It dug its grotesquely elongated legs into the pavement, fingers clawing deep into the ground, bracing itself for impact.
And the moment the Vorator slammed into it—
The Shape Shifter's other limbs lashed out, gripping at the monster's body, trying to hold it down.
But—
It was hopeless.
Because the Vorator was stronger.
Not just stronger—unstoppable.
And it didn't hesitate.
The Vorator didn't flinch.
Didn't struggle.
Didn't even acknowledge the Shape Shifter's desperate attempt to fight back.
Because to the Vorator—
This wasn't a fight.
This was a meal.
And so, in one violent, bone-crunching motion—
It bit down.
Right into the Shape Shifter's face.
The Vorator's massive, jagged teeth sank deep into the twisted flesh of Kia's stolen face.
A sickening CRACK echoed through the air.
Then—
It ripped.
The entire head of the Shape Shifter was torn clean off, yanked from its body with sickening force.
The spine—**still attached—**was ripped out along with it, stretching out like a gruesome, pulsing tail before it snapped apart.
Black, slimy blood sprayed in a disgusting fountain, drenching the Vorator in the creature's putrid fluids.
The head—**Kia's distorted face still partially recognizable—**was clenched between the Vorator's teeth.
Her expression—frozen in an uncanny mix of horror and mockery.
Then, like it was nothing,
The Vorator chewed.
CRUNCH.
The skull caved in, crushed between its teeth.
CRACK.
Bone splintered.
Flesh shredded.
The mouth worked slowly, methodically, enjoying the kill as it swallowed chunks of Kia's stolen flesh.
The rest of the Shape Shifter's headless corpse convulsed violently, its limbs twitching as if it was still trying to fight back.
A final, pitiful resistance.
But then—
The body stopped.
And almost immediately—
It began to decay.
The flesh melted like rotting meat in acid, bubbling, dissolving, turning into a putrid black sludge that sank into the ground.
Until nothing remained.
Ethan had been running.
Gaining distance.
But something inside him—**a morbid curiosity, a sinking dread—**forced him to glance back.
And he saw it.
The instant death.
The absolute brutality.
The Shape Shifter—which had nearly killed him, which had been an unstoppable nightmare in its own right—
Had been erased in seconds.
It wasn't even a fight.
And now, the Vorator—
It had eaten.
Ethan froze.
His body stiffened in sheer terror.
It's coming for me.
That thought screamed in his mind.
He was next.
This thing had killed Karlos just as easily.
It was going to turn its head, see him, and—
It didn't.
The Vorator, its massive, blood-soaked form, simply stood there for a moment.
Then—
It turned away.
And walked off.
Like nothing had happened.
Ethan stood frozen, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
His body was still ready to run, to fight, to do anything.
But the Vorator was gone.
It had killed something.
And that was all it needed.
The thirst was gone.
Ethan's mind flashed back.
To Phase 1.
To Karlos.
To the same exact scenario.
The Vorator had killed.
And then—
It had left.
Ethan clenched his fists, his breath still shaky.
The monster didn't kill for the sake of hunting.
It wasn't like Unguibus.
It wasn't like Gravibus.
It needed to kill—just one thing.
Then it was satisfied.
Karlos had died so Ethan could live.
And now—
The Shape Shifter had died.
So Ethan could escape.
His entire body shook.
But this time, for the first time in the past hour—
He wasn't running anymore.
Ethan remained motionless.
His body trembled, his mind struggling to process what had just happened.
The Vorator was gone.
And yet, the image of it remained burned into his mind.
The sound of Kia's skull being crushed.
The way the Shape Shifter had been erased in an instant.
The thick, putrid blood still staining the pavement.
His breath came out in shaky, uneven gasps.
And then, slowly—
Relief washed over him.
He was alive.
Alive.
His lips parted slightly, as if trying to say something—maybe a curse, maybe a prayer—but nothing came out.
He blinked rapidly, his vision still spinning.
He touched his own chest, feeling his heart still pounding like a war drum.
His expression shifted between horror and disbelief.
His body was covered in grime, dust, and blood—some his, some not.
His hands were shaking.
But he was still here.
And that realization made him sick.
He looked down at himself.
His jacket was torn, his arms scratched and bruised, his ribs aching from the impact of being thrown earlier.
He was injured.
But he had survived.
Again.
His fingers curled into fists.
And then—
His mind whispered to him.
"I survived again."
A breath shuddered out of him.
But then, a second thought crept in.
"But… again… at what cost?"
His stomach twisted painfully.
Karlos.
April.
Kia.
He had survived.
And they hadn't.
Why?
Why was it always like this?
He had barely even known Kia.
And yet, she was dead.
Like the others before her.
The faces blurred together in his mind.
He exhaled sharply, trying to shake the thoughts away.
His mind drifted to the others.
Lena.
Milo.
Riley.
Were they waiting for him?
Would they be on the other side of the door?
Or had they given up and left?
Would he be alone again?
He didn't know.
And the worst part?
He wasn't sure if he wanted to find out.
Because if they were still there—
If they were still waiting—
It meant he wasn't alone.
And that meant he would have to keep fighting for them.
He swallowed down the lump in his throat.
Slowly, with aching, exhausted movements, he walked toward his fallen belongings.
His knife.
His bag.
The bottles of water.
Some of the food that had been tossed out during the fight.
He collected them silently.
Then, with one final glance at the bloodied, ruined battlefield behind him,
He turned away.
And he started walking toward the exit.
Ethan walked.
The road stretched before him—long, empty, endless.
His legs felt heavy, drained, hollow.
His body ached, screaming for rest, but his mind—his mind wouldn't let him stop.
Because it wouldn't shut up.
It wouldn't let him forget.
Kia's voice was still in his ears.
That last scream.
That echoing question.
"Why did you kill me?"
He swallowed hard.
His fingers clenched the strap of his bag tightly, his knuckles turning white.
His feet dragged against the ground, his exhaustion sinking deeper.
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple.
And then, another thought—
A terrifying thought—snuck in.
Who will be next?
Because someone will be.
This wasn't over.
People would keep dying.
And if fate wanted him to keep surviving at the cost of others…
Then who would be the next name added to the list?
Would it be Milo?
Would it be Lena?
Would it be Riley?
Would it be…
him?
He didn't know which possibility was worse.
And so—
He kept walking.
Because no matter how much the thoughts screamed in his head,
The only thing he could do—
Was move forward.
Ethan walked.
His mind was spiraling, drowning in thoughts he couldn't escape.
But his body kept moving.
One step.
Then another.
And then—
He saw it.
The door.
The exit to Phase 5.
His breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest.
For a second—just a second—relief washed over him.
But then—
His stomach dropped.
Because something was wrong.
At the foot of the door—
Lying perfectly still on the cold ground—
Was a metal band.
The Band of Conjunction.
The same one that bound them together.
And there was only one.
Left for him.
But no one was there.
The door was closed.
Meaning—
They had left.
They had left him.
Ethan's breath shook.
His eyes widened, darting across the area, searching for any sign of them.
A footprint.
A shadow.
Anything.
But there was nothing.
They were gone.
His throat tightened.
A lump formed in his chest.
They had waited.
They must have.
But at some point—they gave up.
And now, he was alone.
Again.
Just like always.