Phased out

Karlos had already separated from Ethan. 

His task? Find Gravibus and confirm its location. 

Ethan's? Lure Unguibus straight to its death. 

Now—he was alone. 

And then—it began. 

A distant scream tore through the air. 

Not human.

Not natural.

A deep, bone-rattling, gut-wrenching sound that made his stomach twist in fear. 

His breath hitched. 

His fingers trembled. 

And his mind spiraled. 

"Don't be nervous." "Don't be nervous." "Don't be nervous." 

"Don't be nervous." "Don't be nervous." "Don't be nervous." 

"Don't be nervous." "Don't be nervous." "Don't be nervous." 

"You can do it." "You can do it." "You can do it."

 "You can do it." "You can do it." "You can do it."

The roaring was getting closer. 

Louder. 

Hungrier. 

His body screamed at him to run, to hide, to escape.

But he didn't. 

Because he trusted Karlos. 

Because he had a job to do. 

He closed his eyes for just a second— And he remembered their conversation. 

(Flashback To The Plan)

Karlos' voice was calm, unwavering. 

Karlos: "Actually, each cabin has notes. And all of them provide the same information. That means if this cabin told us where Gravibus is, then the others probably say the same thing to whoever finds them."

Ethan had listened carefully, still gripping the note in his hands. 

Karlos: "So here's the plan: I'll find Gravibus and confirm its position. You lure 

Unguibus straight to it." Ethan had swallowed hard.

Ethan: "And if Gravibus doesn't attack Unguibus?"

Karlos had smirked slightly. 

Karlos: "Then we make it." 

(Back to Reality)

A slow creak echoed through the air. 

Ethan's breath caught in his throat. 

His eyes snapped forward— 

And there it was. 

Unguibus. 

It wasn't just standing there. 

It was looming.

Watching.

Waiting. 

Its grotesque, goat-like skull tilted unnaturally, its hollow sockets like endless black holes, pulling Ethan's very soul into their abyss.

Its jaw hung open, slightly unhinged as if it had been broken and never reset properly. The edges of its mouth twitched like it was trying to mimic human expressions—but failing miserably. Then, it inhaled. 

A deep, wet, ragged breath. Its chest expanded, its ribs shifting beneath its pale, rotting flesh. Veins bulged along its unnaturally long limbs, pulsing, moving—alive in a way that made Ethan's stomach churn. 

The creature's jagged claws flexed, scraping lightly against the ground, making a sound like metal dragging against bone.

Ethan felt light-headed. 

His ears rang. His muscles locked. 

The silence was unbearable.

Unguibus just stood there, motionless, yet somehow breathing down his neck. 

Waiting. 

The air felt wrong. 

Heavy.

Suffocating. 

The flickering yellow lights overhead distorted its silhouette, making its twisted, towering frame stretch and shrink with every flicker. Its presence alone was overwhelming. 

Like he wasn't supposed to be seeing it. 

Like reality itself was rejecting the idea of this thing existing. 

Ethan's body screamed at him to run. 

To get away from that thing. 

His throat felt tight. His hands were clammy. He could feel the pressure pushing him to his 

breaking point. But this time— He didn't move.

This time— He stood his ground. 

Because he was better now. Because he wasn't alone anymore. Because Karlos trusted him. 

And he wasn't going to fail. 

Not now. 

Not ever. 

Ethan stood frozen. 

His body was screaming at him to move, run, escape.

But he knew better. 

If he moved now—if he let his fear take control without fully preparing himself— he was 

dead.

Unguibus was too fast, too relentless. 

If he didn't gather every ounce of strength he had before making a break for it, it would 

catch him instantly. He needed a perfect start. 

The environment itself was already working against them. 

This entire place—it was draining them. 

The walls, the floors—they were sucking the energy out of his body, bit by bit. 

Karlos wasn't safe either. 

If they took too long—if he hesitated even a second too long— Both of them would be too exhausted to fight. Too slow to escape. 

They would die. 

Ethan shut his eyes for a second, gripping his fists. 

He could feel it—the pressure of carrying this entire plan on his back. 

If he failed, Karlos failed. If he died, Karlos died. 

He had already drunk another bottle of almond milk before leaving the cabin. His body felt lighter, stronger.

But the clock was ticking against them.

If he waited too long, the fatigue would return. 

He had to go. Now. 

So— He gathered his courage. 

He took a deep breath—

And he screamed.

 "FUCK YOU, UNGUIBUS!!!"

And he ran. The moment his foot slammed against the floor, he heard it—

A sickening snarl, deep and unnatural. 

A violent shift in the air. 

The sudden explosion of heavy, pounding footsteps behind him. 

Unguibus had locked onto him. 

And it was coming. 

Fast. 

But Ethan was ready. 

He wasn't the same panicked fool from before. 

His start was perfect—his legs pushing off with power, his speed already at its peak. The distance between him and Unguibus was wide. 

For now. 

But he knew—he couldn't slow down. 

If he did— He wouldn't get a second chance. 

And neither would Karlos. 

Ethan ran. 

Faster than he had ever run in his life. 

His legs were on fire, his breath coming in ragged gasps, but he didn't stop. 

He couldn't stop. 

Unguibus was right behind him. 

And it wasn't slowing down. 

His heart pounded like a war drum, his vision slightly blurred from the overwhelming rush of adrenaline. But Ethan wasn't just sprinting blindly. 

He had a strategy. 

The misplaced walls. 

Every time he took a turn, he made sure to use them—weaving through the gaps, breaking Unguibus's line of sight for even a second.

But it wasn't enough. 

It was never going to be enough. Because no matter how smart he was—

Unguibus wasn't human.

It didn't slow down.

It didn't get tired.

It didn't lose stamina. 

It just kept coming. 

The Brutality of Exhaustion

Ethan's speed was starting to drop. 

Not by choice—his body was shutting down. 

Have you ever run a long race? A 400-meter sprint? 

Maybe, as a young and immature athlete, you thought the best way to win was to go all out from the start.

The first 100 meters? Easy. You're fast. You're strong. 

By 150 meters? You feel it. The burn. The fatigue. 

200 meters? You slow down. 

250 meters? Your legs are dragging. Your breath is a mess. Your speed is slipping.

By 300 meters? You're barely running anymore. 

And by 350? You're gasping, legs like dead weights, your body screaming at you to stop.

That's what Ethan was experiencing right now. 

Except this wasn't a race. 

This was life and death. 

And if he slowed down— 

He was dead. 

But Unguibus? 

It didn't slow. 

DUM. DUM. DUM.

DUM. DUM. DUM.

DUM. DUM. DUM.

The footsteps were rhythmic, like a twisted heartbeat pounding against the floor. 

Each one was heavy. Unstoppable. Relentless. 

Unlike Ethan, it didn't get tired. It didn't feel fatigue. 

It was designed to hunt. 

It was made to kill. 

And it wouldn't stop—

Not until its claws were buried deep into Ethan's flesh. 

Not until it ripped him apart. 

Not until it made sure his death was PAINFUL. 

Ethan's breath was a mess. 

Ragged.

Shallow.

Unstable. 

His lungs burned like they were filled with fire, his legs screamed for relief, but he forced them to keep moving.

Because he was close. 

He could see it now— The location where Karlos was waiting. 

He just had to reach it. 

100 meters. 

The monster was only 50 meters behind. 

Ethan pushed harder. 

90 meters. 

Unguibus was 45 meters away. 

80 meters. 

40 meters. 

Ethan could hear it now. 

The rhythmic pounding of heavy footsteps. 

The deep, guttural snarls that vibrated through his bones. 

The sharp clicks of claws scraping against the wet floor. 

70 meters. 

35 meters. 

The gap was closing. Fast. 

60 meters. 

30 meters. 

It was so close now. 

He could feel it. 

The presence of something hungry. Something inhuman. 

50 meters. 

25 meters. 

His vision was blurring from exhaustion. 

40 meters. 

20 meters. 

His heartbeat slammed against his chest—too fast, too frantic. 

He was seconds away from dying. 

30 meters. 

15 meters. 

He could see Karlos now. 

Hiding—waiting in the corner, concealed so Gravibus wouldn't see him. 

20 meters. 

10 meters. 

Ethan's legs were about to give out. 

But— He had 

made it. 

Now—

The real fight begins.