Phased out

As the group began to leave the rooftop, there was a strange mixture of emotions lingering in the air.

Excitement. Dread. Unease.

They had uncovered the truth about Phase 11. Tomorrow, they would face the tower.

But for now?

They would descend one last time into the city's illusion.

The glass elevator doors slid open once again. The moment the group stepped inside, they were met with the same breathtaking view.

The city stretched beneath them—silent, endless, glowing.

Beautiful.

And yet, they all knew now—this beauty was nothing but a lie.

Ethan leaned against the glass, eyes scanning the streets below. His mind was racing, but his body was tired.

Then, his eyes flickered to Alice.

She was standing just a little ahead of him, near the corner of the elevator.

For some reason, without really thinking about it—Ethan moved closer.

Not much. Just enough.

Just enough that the space between them didn't feel as wide anymore.

Alice noticed.

She didn't say anything.

She simply glanced at him and gave a small, gentle smile.

A knowing one.

Ethan ignored it. Or at least, pretended to.

But inside?

He liked it.

He was liking the attention from Alice.

And Riley noticed.

Riley, standing with Lena and Milo, was watching the small exchange from the side. He didn't say anything, but his jaw tightened slightly.

And then—

Milo smirked.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, clasping his hands together dramatically.

"Ooooh, look at those lovebirds over there."

The comment echoed in the elevator.

A few people chuckled—but it was weak. Forced. Even Milo's own joke felt unnatural.

Everyone felt it.

Even him.

And that made the moment so much worse.

Alice simply rolled her eyes playfully, brushing off the comment.

Ethan?

He just stared ahead.

And Riley?

He simply exhaled softly, looking away.

The air in the elevator felt strangely heavy.

The illusion of comfort was falling apart everywhere.

And for some reason, it wasn't just about the city anymore.

When the elevator finally reached the bottom, the doors slid open with a soft chime.

Everyone stepped out, some stretching, some rubbing their eyes.

Despite everything, they were exhausted.

One by one, they decided to turn in early.

Samuel, Nathan, Victor, and Ivy remained together—possibly discussing something the others didn't need to hear.

Lena went off with Milo, Riley, and Tobias—though Riley seemed more distracted than usual.

Derek stuck with Jace, Zara, and the others.

That was when it happened.

Derek was mid-conversation with Zara about how much he hated sleeping on random beds when he suddenly realized something.

Or rather—someone.

There was a massive shadow looming behind him.

He turned his head slightly—and nearly jumped out of his skin.

Jace was standing right there.

Right. There.

Unmoving. Silent. A literal wall of muscle.

Derek nearly had a heart attack.

"OH LORD YOU WERE THERE THE WHOLE TIME?!"

The entire hallway erupted into laughter.

Milo nearly fell over laughing, clutching his stomach.

Zara wiped a tear from her eye. "Dude, I thought you were supposed to be the tough guy?"

Derek placed a hand over his chest, pretending to gasp for air. "Nah, man. Nah. That's not fair. Jace is built like a shadow demon—how was I supposed to see him?!"

Jace—**who had been completely quiet this entire time—**simply raised an eyebrow.

Then, in his deep, calm voice, he muttered:

"You were just being unobservant."

The group burst into laughter again.

Derek pointed at him. "SEE?! EVEN HIS VOICE SOUNDS LIKE A FINAL BOSS."

Tobias smirked. "You'll live."

"Barely." Derek muttered.

With that, the group slowly split off into their rooms, still chuckling to themselves.

As the others went off, Ethan and Alice remained together.

Neither of them was in a hurry to leave.

Alice glanced at him. "Tired?"

Ethan sighed. "More than I want to admit."

She nodded, stretching her arms slightly. "Tomorrow's going to be rough."

Ethan exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Yeah."

Then, after a small pause—he glanced at her.

And for some reason, he spoke before thinking.

"Why do you stay near me so much?"

Alice blinked.

For a moment, she didn't answer.

Then, she gave a soft, teasing smile.

"Because I like being near you, obviously."

Ethan stared at her.

His brain shut down.

Alice simply laughed softly and started walking away.

"Goodnight, Ethan."

And just like that—she was gone.

Ethan stood there for a second.

Then, he sighed.

Tomorrow was going to be a long, long day.

Ethan stepped into his room, closing the door softly behind him.

The silence was instant.

No voices. No laughter. No arguing.

Just emptiness.

It didn't bother him.

He was used to sleeping alone.

But as he stood in the middle of the room, something about this moment felt off.

Familiar.

A strange déjà vu crept into his chest, unsettling him.

His tired eyes flickered around the space—the bed, the walls, the faint glow from the city outside.

It was just like before.

Before Phase 0.

Before everything turned to hell.

Before they were all trapped in this nightmare.

Ethan exhaled sharply, rubbing his face.

"Damn… this is giving me déjà vu. It's the same scenario as the real world. Before everyone got trapped in Phase 0."

That thought lingered in his mind, weighing on him.

His gaze drifted to the window.

The city was still glowing.

Bright, mesmerizing.

Too perfect.

For a moment, he didn't want to look away.

Some part of him wanted to keep staring, to let himself fall into the illusion just for a while longer.

But he knew better.

He always had control over his desires.

With a soft sigh, he shut the blinds.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Too much darkness.

Ethan immediately reached for the small dim light beside the bed, switching it on.

The faint glow pushed away the void, giving him just enough comfort.

His voice was barely above a whisper as he muttered to himself:

"Nyctophobia1 playing in action… wouldn't want that."

With that, he finally hopped onto the bed, exhaling as he relaxed.

Tomorrow was coming fast.

And no matter how much his mind raced—

He needed sleep.

As Ethan laid back on the bed, his body sinking into the mattress, a sudden thought hit him.

A very unfortunate thought.

He sniffed himself.

"Shit… I smell disgusting."

He immediately sat up.

And then—his mind betrayed him.

Did Alice smell him earlier?

The thought made his stomach twist with secondhand embarrassment.

What if she did?

What if she noticed and just didn't say anything?

Oh god.

Ethan couldn't handle the idea. He immediately hopped off the bed and rushed to the bathroom.

As soon as he stepped inside, his eyes landed on something.

A fresh towel.

Already there.

Perfectly folded.

Waiting.

He stared at it for a long second before muttering:

"That's so convenient it's crazy…"

And just like that—he was convinced.

Ivy had been right all along.

This phase wasn't just peaceful—it was designed to be too easy.

The perfect rooms. The endless resources. The clean air. The fresh towels waiting.

This wasn't meant to be escaped.

This was meant to be lived in.

Ethan exhaled sharply before stepping under the warm water, letting it wash away the grime, the sweat—and some of the unease.

The shower was refreshing, but his mind kept returning to everything wrong with this place.

The false paradise.

The tower waiting in the distance.

And, of course—Alice possibly sniffing his disgusting ass.

That last thought still haunted him the most.

After finishing, he toweled off quickly and grabbed his shirt.

It was soaked with sweat.

No way was he putting that back on.

Instead, he stepped back into the main room, hanging it up near the vent to dry.

Then, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

Freshly showered. Hair damp. Smelling good.

He smirked slightly.

Much better.

The truth was—Ethan had always been like this.

Even before all this chaos, even back in the real world, he had been obsessed with hygiene.

Showers twice a day. Clean nails. Fresh breath. Always smelling good.

But his dressing style?

Nonexistent.

He never cared about fashion, looking stylish, or standing out. As long as he was clean, that was enough.

And right now, in a death game, he had no interest in changing that.

With his shirt drying, he threw himself onto the bed, sighing in relief.

Tomorrow would be hell.

But at least now, he wouldn't be entering it smelling like a corpse.

Ethan had finally relaxed.

His body sank into the mattress, his mind starting to drift despite everything weighing on him.

But then—

A gentle knock at the door.

His breath caught in his throat.

His first thought?

"IS THAT ALICE?!?!"

Immediately, his brain short-circuited.

"Shit, what if she came here for—"

He stopped himself before his imagination could go any further down a dangerous road.

But it was already too late.

His mind was racing.

Was she here to say goodnight?

Or was she here to—

NO. STOP. RESET.

Ethan sat up, clearing his throat aggressively.

"Alright. Be cool. Be normal."

But instead of being normal, he immediately

Ran a hand through his hair, trying to make it look effortlessly messy—but in a cool way.

Flexed his jaw in the mirror, then immediately scolded himself for doing it.

Stretched his arms slightly so his muscles looked more defined.

Then, he realized.

He was still shirtless.

And he didn't reach for one.

Not yet.

"I mean… my shirt is drying," he told himself. "That's a solid excuse. It's logical."

Totally not because Alice would get a good look at his toned physique.

Not ripped—but just toned enough.

Just enough to not disappoint.

Ethan cleared his throat again, shaking his head as if he could physically remove his dumb thoughts.

Then, he took a breath, straightened up, and finally moved toward the door.

"Alright, just act casual—"

He swung it open.

Who Was There?

Ethan's expression instantly shifted the second he saw who was standing there.

His anticipation vanished.

Because it wasn't Alice.

It was—

Milo Torres

And Ethan's entire brain collapsed in disappointment.

He barely held back the sigh that almost left his lips.

Instead, he just stood there, blinking—still very much shirtless, still unintentionally trying to look impressive for literally no reason.

And now?

He had to pretend he wasn't expecting Alice at all.

Milo's eyes immediately dropped to Ethan's shirtless self.

A slow smirk spread across his face.

And then—

He whistled. Low, amused.

"Well, well, well… someone was expecting Alice to come tonight, huh?"

Ethan sighed so hard he nearly collapsed.

"Not at all," he muttered, running a hand over his face.

Milo leaned against the doorframe, grinning. "Uh-huh. Right. That's why you answered the door shirtless, with your hair all perfect like you just casually woke up looking like a romance novel cover."

Ethan shut his eyes briefly. "Milo, I swear to god."

Milo laughed, stepping forward. "Not gonna invite me in? Or do I need to be blonde to get an entrance?"

Ethan blinked.

Damn it. That was actually a good line.

Still, he sighed, stepping aside.

"Get in before I change my mind."

Milo happily strolled in, looking around.

Milo let out a low whistle as he scanned the room.

"Man, they really set us up in luxury, huh? Clean air, soft beds, fresh towels. It's like the universe is gaslighting us into thinking we're not about to walk into a horror movie tomorrow."

Ethan shook his head. "Yeah. It's too perfect."

Milo collapsed onto a chair, stretching.

"So, how's the brooding? Stared out the window dramatically yet?"

Ethan exhaled, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Yes. Fully completed my required amount of existential staring."

Milo grinned. "Good. You wouldn't be you without it."

For a moment, there was silence.

Not an awkward one—just a quiet pause.

Then, Ethan got to the point.

He glanced at Milo, arms resting on his knees.

"Alright. What made you come here?"

Milo's smirk faded slightly.

And just like that, the mood shifted.

Just as Milo's smirk started to fade, another knock echoed from the door.

Ethan's breath hitched.

Could it be—?

Alice?!

His body reacted before his brain did.

Without thinking, he ran a hand through his hair, fixing it again.

Forgetting everything.

Forgetting Milo was literally still in the room.

Milo stared at him.

Then, his eyes widened in realization.

"WAIT. AM I SUPPOSED TO HIDE OR WHAT?!" he whispered loudly.

Ethan turned to him, panic flashing across his face.

"YES, IDIOT! IN THE CLOSET!"

Milo's jaw dropped. "BRO, WHAT?!"

"JUST GO!" Ethan hissed, shoving him toward the closet.

Milo rushed in, but then—his brain short-circuited.

He turned back, eyes wide.

"OH FUCK, I COMPLETELY FORGOT."

Ethan blinked. "Forgot what?!"

Milo whispered aggressively. "BRO, IF I STAY OUT THERE, WE'RE GONNA GET HIT WITH GAY ALLEGATIONS. YOU'RE SHIRTLESS."

Ethan's eye twitched.

"MILOOOOOO—"

But before he could kill him, Ethan heard a cleared throat from outside.

Crap.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself back into a calm expression, and opened the door.

It was Noah.

Ethan's soul left his body for half a second.

Another disappointment.

But this time, he immediately masked it.

Unlike Milo, Noah was someone who rarely spoke. And Ethan had never really talked to him one-on-one before.

So, he pushed down his disappointment and kept his voice neutral.

"Yeah. Wassup?"

Noah stood there, his expression calm, unreadable.

"I wanted to talk about something."

Ethan internally screamed.

"Why is EVERYONE coming to ME to talk about THINGS?!"

Ethan sighed, stepping aside. "Come in."

Noah walked in, his calm gaze scanning the room.

Then, Ethan turned to the closet.

"Milo, get out. It's just Noah."

The closet door creaked open, and Milo stepped out like a guilty criminal.

Noah's eyes flickered between the two of them.

Ethan—shirtless.

Milo—hiding in the closet.

A long silence.

Then, Noah, completely deadpan, said:

"I wouldn't judge, but at least let Alice know."

Ethan and Milo both froze.

Milo was the first to break.

He burst into laughter, nearly collapsing against the bed. "BRO. BROOOO. I CAN'T."

Ethan dragged a hand down his face.

"Noah. It's not—"

Noah shrugged. "Hey, man. No shame. Just be honest with yourself."

Milo was wheezing at this point. "ETHAN. JUST BE HONEST, BRO. WE ALL SUPPORT YOU."

Ethan exhaled sharply.

"Noah. WHAT. DO. YOU. WANT."

Noah finally got to the point.

"It's about the tower."

And just like that—the mood shifted.

Milo gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like a scandalized housewife.

"OMG OMG OMG SAAAAMEEE!!"

He flapped his hands, his movements exaggerated, acting as zesty as humanly possible to emphasize the gay allegations.

Ethan glared at him.

Noah just blinked, unimpressed.

But then—

For just a split second—Milo's expression changed.

His grin faltered.

A flicker of something disappointed. Sad.

But just as quickly, he forced a smile back onto his face, covering it up.

Ethan noticed.

Noah noticed.

Neither of them said anything.

Instead, Ethan exhaled and motioned toward the bed.

"Alright. Let's sit."

The three of them sat in a circle, the humor lingering but slowly fading.

The air felt different now.

Because whatever Noah came here to talk about—it wasn't a joke.

The three of them sat in a quiet circle on the bed.

For once, Milo wasn't making a joke.

For once, Noah was speaking up.

Noah's expression remained unreadable, but the way he sat—stiff, slightly tense—told Ethan he wasn't here for small talk.

Ethan leaned forward slightly. "So… what's on your mind?"

Noah's eyes flickered to Milo for a second, then back to Ethan.

"Victor."

Ethan's shoulders instantly tensed.

Milo, unusually quiet, ran a hand through his hair before sighing. "Yeah. Same."

Ethan frowned. "What about him?"

Noah exhaled. "Something feels wrong. He wants to go to that tower too badly."

Milo nodded, staring at the floor. "Like, I get the whole 'we can't stay here forever' thing—but the way Victor said it? It wasn't about escaping Phase 11."

Noah's gaze darkened. "It was about getting inside that tower."

Ethan felt a familiar chill creep up his spine.

Because they weren't wrong.

Victor didn't just want to move forward—he wanted to go there.

And for what?

Ethan sighed, rubbing his temple. "So, what are you guys saying? You don't want to go?"

Noah shook his head. "Not like that. We'll go if we have to. But something about this whole thing is off, and we both couldn't sleep because of it."

Milo exhaled sharply, leaning back against the wall.

His usual smirk was gone.

His usual energy felt dimmed.

Then, after a small pause, he spoke again.

His voice quieter.

"It's not just Victor, y'know."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Milo hesitated.

Then, he let out a dry laugh, shaking his head.

"We're all pretending, dude."

Ethan blinked. "What?"

Milo gave a small, tired smile—but there was no humor in it.

"No one wants to show their weakness. Not even me." He scoffed at himself. "That's why I joke too much. That's why I'm annoying sometimes. It's because if I don't laugh, I might actually break."

Ethan and Noah stayed silent.

Milo glanced between them, his smile fading slightly.

"I don't want to think about what's happening. About how we're stuck here. About how we could all be dead tomorrow." He sighed, rubbing his arms. "And most of all? I don't want to think about my family. My parents. My little brothers."

His voice cracked slightly on the last word.

And for a moment—just a small moment—he looked like he wanted to say more.

Like he wanted to let it out.

But then, he forced a grin.

"So yeah. That's why I joke around so much. You can't cry if you're laughing, right?"

But Ethan wasn't laughing.

Neither was Noah.

Because they both understood exactly what he meant.

And somehow—that made it worse.

Ethan sighed, leaning back on his hands.

"You're not annoying, Milo."

Milo blinked, caught off guard. "Huh?"

Ethan didn't look at him—he just stared at the ceiling.

"I get it."

Milo sat there for a moment, then let out a small chuckle. "Damn, Ethan. That was kinda wholesome."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Shut up before I take it back."

Milo grinned, but there was something more real in it this time.

Then, after a small silence, Noah spoke again.

"So what do we do?"

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"We keep our guard up. We stick together. And no matter what happens—"

His gaze flickered toward the window, where the tower still loomed in the distance.

"—we don't trust Victor blindly."

Noah nodded. "Agreed."

Milo exhaled, flopping backward onto the bed dramatically. "Damn, bro. I thought I came here for emotional trauma dumping, not secret mission planning."

Ethan snorted. "You got both. Lucky you."

Milo smirked. "Wow. Two for one deal. Incredible customer service."

Noah sighed. "I'm surrounded by idiots."

Ethan and Milo chuckled softly.

The air was still heavy.

But somehow, in this small moment, the weight felt a little lighter.

Noah sat with his arms crossed, his expression as calm as ever, but his words were firm.

"Milo's right. Everyone's putting on a tough act."

Ethan and Milo both looked at him, waiting.

Noah leaned forward slightly, his tone even. "No one's as strong as they're pretending to be. Right now? Everyone's probably staring at the ceiling, dying inside, thinking about tomorrow."

Ethan exhaled. He hadn't thought about that.

Milo nodded, rubbing his arms slightly. "Yeah… makes sense. I mean, we're all just a bunch of normal people, right? No one should be fine with this. Being trapped in a nightmare like this?" He shook his head. "You'd have to be a freak to act normal about it."

Ethan let those words sink in.

Because he knew exactly one person who wasn't pretending.

Victor.

But he pushed that thought aside for now.

Milo suddenly turned toward Ethan, his expression shifting slightly.

He hesitated for a second—then spoke.

"But y'know, Ethan… you feel different from the others."

Ethan blinked. "What?"

Milo exhaled, leaning back on his hands. "I think a lot of people would agree with me on this. Maybe even everyone."

Noah nodded silently beside him.

Ethan furrowed his brows. "What are you talking about?"

Milo sat up again, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice was more serious now.

"You don't put on a strong act."

Ethan stared at him.

Milo continued.

"You don't try to act like you're fine when you're not. You don't act like some invincible badass just because you feel like you have to. You were just you the whole time. You showed everyone that you needed time. And you took that time."

Ethan's lips parted slightly, but he didn't know what to say.

Milo's gaze was steady.

"You didn't back away. But you didn't fake it either." He let out a small breath. "That's probably why people look up to you. Why they follow you. Including me."

Ethan blinked. "Milo…"

Milo smirked slightly. "And let's be real—Alice would definitely agree with me on that one."

Ethan immediately looked away, clearing his throat.

Milo grinned. "Ohhhh, hit a nerve, huh?"

Ethan sighed, shaking his head. "You were doing great until you said that."

Milo laughed, but there was something genuine in his eyes.

Noah, still sitting quietly, finally spoke.

"He's right."

Ethan turned toward him.

Noah's gaze was sharp.

"You're not perfect. You're not fearless. But that's exactly why people trust you."

Ethan sat there for a moment.

Letting that sink in.

Then, finally, he sighed, rubbing his face. "I don't know if I should feel complimented or called out."

Milo grinned. "Both."

Noah just nodded. "Good. Then you get it."

The conversation faded into silence.

But it wasn't an awkward silence.

It was the kind of silence that meant something had changed.

And for the first time—Ethan started to understand.

Maybe he wasn't a leader by choice.

But he was a leader because people needed him to be.

Ethan sat there, letting Milo's words sink in.

People looked up to him.

People trusted him.

And for the first time, he didn't reject it.

He didn't say "I'm not a leader."He didn't say "You're wrong."

Because, in a way, it felt good.

Knowing that people saw him as someone to rely on.

Knowing that he wasn't just another scared survivor.

Knowing that he mattered.

He let that feeling settle in his chest.

But deep down—

He knew the truth.

He was putting on a tough act too.

Just like the rest of them.

Maybe he wasn't pretending to be fearless.

Maybe he wasn't faking strength like Derek or Nathan.

But he was hiding things too.

The weight of Phase 0.

The guilt of Karlos.

The fear of what was coming next.

Ethan exhaled through his nose, his expression neutral.

Milo and Noah were waiting for a response, expecting him to say something.

So, he gave them a small nod, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

"Guess I'll just have to live up to the expectations, then."

Milo grinned. "Damn right, you will."

Noah simply nodded. "It suits you."

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "You guys make me sound cooler than I actually am."

Milo snapped his fingers. "Nah, bro, you just have main character energy. It's unavoidable."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Go to sleep, Milo."

Milo laughed, standing up. "Yeah, yeah. But for real, thanks for talking. It… helped."

Noah stood as well. "Same here."

Ethan glanced at both of them, nodding. "Yeah. Me too."

As they left the room, Ethan finally laid back down, staring at the ceiling.

He had let them believe he wasn't putting on an act.

That he was somehow different.

That he had things under control.

But in reality—

He was just as scared as the rest of them.

And tomorrow?

He'd have to keep pretending.

Because that's what a leader does.