Phased out

Just as they were about to step through the door—

CRACK.

The sharp snap of breaking branches echoed behind them.

Both Kacey and Johnathan froze.

Their bodies tensed instinctively, hearts hammering against their ribs.

Something was approaching.

But—the sun hadn't set yet.

The creatures wouldn't attack until nightfall.

Which meant… this wasn't one of them.

Kacey's voice was low, cautious. "You heard that…?"

Johnathan didn't take his eyes off the trees. "Yup. Loud and clear. Wondering what in the hell it is now…"

The underbrush rustled, leaves crunching under slow, deliberate footsteps.

And then—

A figure emerged from the dense foliage.

Tall.

Human.

But that wasn't what made their breath hitch.

It was the face.

A face they recognized.

Johnathan blinked, staring at the figure. His mind raced before something clicked.

"Wait… isn't this the guy who punched someone before Phase 0 started?" He glanced at Kacey. "Back in the massive hall? Before we met Karlos and the others?"

Kacey furrowed her brows, struggling to recall—until recognition finally dawned. "Oh… yeah. It is."

The man stood tall, his muscular frame tense, arms carved with raw strength.

But he didn't speak.

Didn't move.

Just stared.

Kacey felt it immediately—something was off. A strange, unnerving energy clung to him.

Johnathan felt it too—but that was a given.

Still, he cleared his throat, taking a hesitant step forward. "Hey, uh—"

Then he saw it.

Blood.

Dark, fresh—smeared across the man's hands.

Johnathan's words died in his throat.

Kacey's breath hitched.

Neither of them moved.

And the man?

He just kept staring.

Johnathan took a step back.

Kacey did too—instinctively.

Something wasn't right.

The air felt heavier, suffocating. The jungle around them, once filled with distant screeches and rustling leaves, had gone deathly silent.

The door—their exit—stood just behind them.

Yet, neither of them moved.

Not with him standing there.

The man remained still, broad shoulders squared, blood glistening on his hands under the fading sunlight. His posture was relaxed—too relaxed—like he wasn't just standing there.

Like he was waiting.

Then—he spoke.

His voice was wrong.

Not deep. Not menacing in a traditional sense.

It was sharp. Annoying. A tone laced with something almost playful—but twisted beneath, like nails scratching against glass.

"Hello, survivors…"

A slow, deliberate pause.

Kacey's fingers twitched. Johnathan clenched his jaw.

The man tilted his head, his lips curving into something that was meant to be a smile—but wasn't.

"My name…"

His bloodstained fingers flexed.

"Is…"

The air around them felt like it shifted.

Like something was about to break.

And then—

"Jason."

The word slithered off his tongue like a curse.

And in that moment—they knew.

Something was about to go very, very wrong.

And that's when you know, shit was about to go down.

Johnathan took a small step forward, forcing himself to stay composed.

Jason wasn't a creature. Not an entity.

He was a survivor—just like them.

Which meant there was a chance to reason with him.

"Hello, Jason," Johnathan started cautiously. "Uh… it's nice to meet you? I guess?"

Jason's head twitched slightly—too sharp, too unnatural.

Then, a grin.

Wide. Wrong.

"It's nice to meet you too," he replied, voice smooth but unnervingly off.

Then his smile faltered, his tone dipping into something colder.

"But you know… it's very rude when you don't introduce yourself."

Johnathan huffed, crossing his arms, trying to keep things light.

"You didn't even give me a chanc—"

Jason moved.

A step forward—fast.

Not a run. Not an attack.

But something about it was so wrong, so deliberately invasive, that Johnathan instinctively braced himself.

Kacey reacted instantly, shifting her stance. "Don't try to reason," she muttered under her breath. "He's looking for an issue."

Johnathan's fists clenched. He didn't want to fight.

Not with the blood still slick on Jason's fingers.

Not with the way his eyes held something unreadable, dangerous.

But Jason kept walking—slow, unhurried.

Like he already knew the outcome.

Like this was just a game.

Before he could get too close—

"Whose blood is that?"

Kacey's voice was sharp, cutting through the thick air.

Jason stopped.

Then—he smiled.

"Oh, this?" He lifted his hand slightly, watching the dark, half-dried blood glisten in the dimming light.

A pause.

Then, casually—

"I just killed a bear."

Silence.

The jungle around them felt smaller.

Johnathan and Kacey didn't move. Didn't breathe.

A bear.

If he was lying—then what had he actually done?

And if he was telling the truth—

They were fucked.

Jason tilted his head again, watching them. His eyes flicked between their reactions, his grin widening—like he enjoyed their uncertainty.

Like he was waiting for them to break.

Johnathan swallowed hard. "That's… impressive."

Jason chuckled. "Oh, I know."

Another step forward.

This time—Kacey stepped back.

And Jason noticed.

His grin twitched. "Scared?"

Kacey didn't answer.

Jason exhaled, shaking his head as if disappointed. "You don't have to be, you know."

Then his voice dipped—low, teasing, dripping with something ugly.

"Unless, of course… you think I might do the same to you."

Johnathan shifted in front of Kacey.

Jason's gaze flicked to him.

And then—he laughed.

A slow, drawn-out laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Relax," Jason finally said, grinning. "I don't kill people. That would be unfair, don't you think?"

His eyes darkened slightly. "I like a fair fight."

Johnathan forced a smirk, despite the weight pressing down on his chest. "Good to know."

Jason just kept smiling.

And in that moment—Johnathan knew.

This wasn't someone they could reason with.

This was someone who enjoyed the game.

And right now—they were in it.

Johnathan stepped forward.

His stance shifted—subtle, but deliberate.

"Kacey. Stay back."

Kacey hesitated, glancing between him and Jason.

Was he serious?

Her gut twisted. Johnathan wasn't reckless—not really—but he was too damn good at pretending he wasn't afraid.

Jason wasn't normal.

He wasn't just some thug looking for a fight—he was something else. Something wrong.

And if Johnathan thought he could just talk him down, then—

"Johnathan—"

"Trust me." His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it.

Not confidence. Something else.

Something calculated.

Kacey clenched her fists. She didn't like this.

Not because she doubted Johnathan—but because she didn't doubt Jason.

Jason watched them both, head tilting slightly. His grin hadn't faded. "Oh? What's this?"

Johnathan exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders. "Nothing. Just making sure she doesn't get dragged into this."

Jason chuckled. "Chivalrous. Cute."

Then his eyes narrowed slightly. "But unnecessary."

Johnathan ignored him.

He turned slightly, speaking just low enough for Kacey to hear.

"Listen… I've got experience in boxing."

Kacey's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Amateur competitions when I was younger. Wasn't great, but I was good enough to defend myself." He exhaled sharply. "If this guy wants to start something… I can handle it."

Kacey didn't look convinced. "Johnathan—"

"Just let me try."

Jason let out a dramatic sigh. "You two done whispering? Or should I step away so you can have a private moment?"

Johnathan's expression didn't change.

But his stance did.

His weight shifted slightly—just enough.

Jason noticed.

And for the first time—his smile faltered.

Just a little.

But Johnathan caught it.

Good.

If Jason wanted a fight—he'd get one.

Johnathan raised his guard.

His stance—Orthodox. Left foot forward, right foot back, knees slightly bent. His left hand hovered near his chin, protecting his jaw, while his right hand stayed coiled—ready to strike.

Kacey stuck close to the door, her breath steady but her heart pounding.

This wasn't about winning.

This was about buying time. About escaping if things went south.

Jason?

He didn't care.

He didn't even put his guard up.

He just walked forward.

Slow. Unbothered. Menacing.

Johnathan had fought before—he'd seen guys act tough, seen guys play mind games.

But this?

This wasn't an act.

Jason wasn't trying to be intimidating.

He just was.

Johnathan took a cautious step forward, eyes locked on Jason's movements, calculating.

That's when he noticed—

Jason was taller.

Not by much, but enough.

Enough to matter.

Enough to make closing the distance dangerous.

But Johnathan wasn't waiting.

Before Jason could get too close—

Johnathan struck.

A clean right-hand cross—fast, precise.

His left guard stayed tight, protecting his chin, his stance firm.

His right fist smashed into Jason's cheek.

A perfect hit.

A knockout punch if it landed on any other man.

But—something was wrong.

His face—

It was hard.

Too hard.

Like punching solid oak.

Johnathan barely had time to process it before—

A hand clamped around his throat.

Fast. Too fast.

A vice grip.

Jason lifted him clean off the ground.

Johnathan's feet dangled, air ripped from his lungs as fingers crushed into his windpipe like steel clamps.

His hands flew to Jason's wrist, struggling, gripping—nothing budged.

Jesus Christ—he's strong.

Kacey's breath hitched.

This is already looking bad.

Jason tilted his head, watching Johnathan squirm.

Like a cat toying with a mouse.

Then—he grinned.

And squeezed harder.

Johnathan's vision blurred.

This wasn't a fight.

This was a warning.

Johnathan's lungs burned.

His hands clawed at Jason's iron grip around his throat, but it was useless. His fingers may as well have been trying to pry open a steel vise.

Then—

SLAM.

The world spun.

Jason drove him into the ground like a hammer striking a nail.

The impact was sickening.

Air rushed out of Johnathan's chest, his back screaming in pain as the breath was completely ripped from his lungs.

But Jason wasn't done.

Not even close.

Before Johnathan could recover, Jason yanked him up—his fingers digging into his clothes, lifting him effortlessly.

And then—

He threw him.

Johnathan's body flew.

Like a ragdoll.

The jungle blurred as he was launched through the air—a child's toy tossed aside.

And then—

CRACK!

His back slammed against a thick tree trunk, the impact rattling his bones. A sharp jolt of pain surged through his spine, his head snapping forward before his body collapsed to the ground.

His vision swam.

His ears rang.

But there was no time to react.

Because Jason was already moving.

Fast. Too fast.

Johnathan barely registered his own pain before Jason closed the distance.

Three seconds.

That's all it took.

Jason's foot drove forward.

A brutal kick—

Straight to Johnathan's face.

CRACK.

His head snapped to the side. Blood splattered.

A warm, metallic taste flooded his mouth as his skull rattled from the impact.

Everything blurred.

His thoughts—muffled. Disjointed.

His brain—rocked by a concussion.

The jungle spun.

A dull, throbbing pulse spread from his head, every heartbeat amplifying the pounding inside his skull.

Through hazy vision, he saw—

Jason.

Standing over him. Watching.

Not out of concern.

But amusement.

Then—fingers twisted into his hair.

A sharp, searing pull.

Johnathan gritted his teeth, his scalp burning as Jason yanked him up by the roots, forcing his dazed, battered face to meet his.

Jason tilted his head slightly, grinning.

His voice—low, mocking, menacing.

"You done already?"

Johnathan groaned, his body screaming in protest.

Jason's grin widened.

"And here I thought you were tough."

He chuckled.

Not a laugh of amusement.

But pure disappointment.

Like this wasn't even a fight to him.

Like he had expected more.

And Johnathan knew—

This wasn't just a beating.

This was a message.

Jason's fingers uncurled from Johnathan's hair, letting his head drop slightly—

Then—

BOOM.

A solid left hook.

The punch slammed into Johnathan's face like a wrecking ball, his jaw snapping sideways as a shockwave ripped through his skull.

His body—already battered, already weak—

Flew.

Like a discarded ragdoll.

His back skidded across the ground, dirt and dead leaves scraping against torn skin before his momentum finally came to a brutal halt.

Right in front of the door.

Kacey stood paralyzed.

Her breath hitched in her throat, unable to process what she had just witnessed.

This wasn't just a fight.

It was a massacre.

Johnathan lay motionless for a moment, chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven gasps.

Everything hurt.

His brain—pounding.

His vision—distorted, swimming.

He felt wrong.

Like something inside his skull had shifted.

A sharp, deep ache settled at the base of his head, radiating through his spine.

His teeth—loose.

Johnathan could feel it—his gums throbbing, a sickening, metallic taste pooling in his mouth as blood dribbled down his chin.

His nose—broken. Blood continued dripping, staining his already bruised skin.

He tried to move.

A small, desperate attempt—

But his arms trembled beneath him, muscles barely responding.

A strained, pain-filled moan escaped his throat as he pushed himself up, body shaking, shoulders collapsing under his own weight.

He didn't understand anything anymore.

The pain was too much.

His thoughts were disjointed, sluggish.

Like his brain was barely keeping up.

Through the haze, he barely registered Kacey's shaken expression.

The terror in her eyes.

The sheer horror as she watched him struggle, beaten beyond recognition.

And Jason?

Jason just stood there.

Watching.

Unbothered.

Like he was waiting to see if Johnathan would try again.

Like he wanted him to.

Jason started walking forward.

Slow. Deliberate.

His eyes locked onto Johnathan, watching his shaking, barely-conscious form struggle to stay upright.

He was going to finish this.

But then—

A sudden blur from the side.

Kacey.

She ran—fast—a long wooden plank clenched tightly in her hands.

She wasn't strong like Jason.

She wasn't a fighter like Johnathan.

But she had one chance.

One shot to put everything into a single, desperate swing.

Jason was closing in on Johnathan.

She was closing in on Jason.

She gritted her teeth.

Her grip tightened.

She swung—

THWACK—!

Nothing.

Because before she could even connect the hit—

Jason's hand clamped around her face.

Like a vice.

Kacey's muffled scream was swallowed by his palm as her entire body jerked backward from the sheer force.

Her arms flailed, trembling, the wooden plank slipping from her grasp as her feet barely touched the ground.

Jason wasn't even looking at her.

His grip tightened.

Pain.

Blinding, unbearable pain.

It felt like her skull was cracking under the pressure.

Like her bones were caving in.

She tried to speak, to scream, to struggle—

But nothing came out.

Jason finally tilted his head, his voice low, cold, mocking.

"Women should not interfere."

A pause.

His fingers squeezed harder.

Kacey's eyes widened in agony.

"Stay outside of this."

Johnathan, still dazed, barely registering anything, looked up.

His vision was swimming, his brain lagging behind reality.

But something in him snapped.

Instinct took over.

His body moved before his mind could process.

A weak, reckless swing—

Straight for Jason's groin.

It should have been cheap.

It should have been effective.

But—

Jason dodged.

Effortlessly.

Like he had seen it coming before it even happened.

Then—

He threw Kacey.

Like a ragdoll.

Her body flew—**fast—**toward the door.

She barely had time to react.

But—

She wasn't stupid.

At the last second, her arms shot up, shielding the back of her head.

WHAM!

The impact rattled her bones, her back slamming against the door brutally—but the last-minute defense saved her from blacking out entirely.

Her breath came out shaky. Labored.

Her vision spotted, hazy.

She was conscious.

But barely.

Johnathan saw all of it.

And he snapped.

His legs barely held him up, but he forced himself to stand.

His form?

Completely broken.

His stance?

Nonexistent.

But he swung anyway.

Wild, sloppy, desperate punches—

Thrown by a man who had already lost.

Jason?

He barely even moved.

Each punch? Dodged. Effortless.

Like Johnathan was fighting a ghost.

And then—

Jason struck.

A fist—

Straight to Johnathan's stomach.

WHUMP.

The air was ripped from his lungs.

Johnathan's body jerked forward from the impact, his face twisting in agony.

And Jason?

He was waiting for that.

A sharp knee—

Right to Johnathan's already broken nose.

CRUNCH.

His head snapped back, blood spraying from his nostrils, his entire skull roaring in pain.

But Jason wasn't done.

Before Johnathan's head could even whiplash backward—

An elbow.

Brutal. Precise.

Directly to the back of his skull.

CRACK.

His body collapsed forward, but Jason grabbed him mid-fall—

And then—

Slammed his face into the ground.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Each impact more brutal than the last.

The dirt beneath them stained red, blood pooling from Johnathan's shattered nose, split lips, broken skin.

His skull?

Pounding. Screaming.

His mind?

Fading. Slipping.

But Jason wasn't finished.

Not yet.

He finally ripped Johnathan up, gripping his limp body by the collar.

His face—barely recognizable.

Bloodied.

Swollen.

A complete, broken mess.

Jason grinned.

Amused. Unbothered. Disappointed.

He clicked his tongue.

"Tch… That's it?"

He tilted his head.

"You're still breathing."

His grip tightened.

Johnathan could barely even see straight.

His body was screaming.

His mind? Fading.

And Jason?

He was just getting started.

The sun had set.

And with it—the hunt began.

A chittering screech tore through the jungle.

Something massive was moving. Fast.

Kacey's breath hitched as she saw it—

A scorpion.

Not just big—colossal.

Its thick, chitinous body gleamed under the pale, dying light, its monstrous pincers snapping with sickening force.

Its legs—jagged, armored— tore through the ground, uprooting dirt and vines as it charged.

Straight for Jason.

Jason barely even flinched.

Instead, he grabbed Johnathan by the collar and threw him—

Hard.

Johnathan's battered, limp body crashed against the door, his head smacking against the frame as he slumped to the ground.

Kacey gasped, instincts screaming to go to him—

But her eyes snapped back to Jason.

Because what happened next made her blood run cold.

Jason didn't dodge.

He didn't run.

He met the scorpion head-on.

A beast larger than him, a creature built for death and destruction.

And Jason?

He stopped it.

With his bare hands.

The scorpion lunged, its massive pincers swinging—

Jason caught them.

A deafening clap of impact sent shockwaves through the air as his muscles strained, holding back the sheer force of the beast.

His boots dug into the ground, but he didn't buckle.

He held.

He even—grinned.

Kacey's breath caught in her throat.

What the hell was he?

Jason twisted his grip, forcing the scorpion's pincers apart with sheer, unnatural strength, his body tense but completely in control.

For a moment—he was winning.

And that was all the time Kacey needed.

Her pulse roared in her ears as she turned—

Ran.

Straight for Johnathan.

He was barely conscious, his breath ragged, blood still dripping from his bruised and broken face.

But he was alive.

And she wasn't leaving him here.

"Johnathan! Move!"

No response.

Kacey gritted her teeth, yanking his arm, forcing his half-limp body upright.

His legs wobbled, his head lolled slightly—but he moved.

That was enough.

She gripped him tight—

And sprinted.

Jason was still fighting the scorpion, the sounds of chitin scraping against muscle, the beast's horrific screeches ringing through the jungle.

She didn't know how long he'd last.

She didn't care.

The door was opening.

A blinding light.

She didn't hesitate.

With a final, desperate push—

She crossed through.

The light engulfed them.

And then—

They were gone.

Phase 11 had begun.