Distance...approach...mindset...I have to secure all three to win.

Amateurs think that power, speed and strategy are the only things that determine who wins in a competition. Jason was a born competitor, the kind of man who woke up early in the morning even when his body begged him to rest for longer. He knew better. In any kind of contest, your decisions are what determines who wins or loses. Physical ability is important, and being skilled allows for more options to choose from, but you still have to make the right decisions to win. A perfect body and a carefully honed strategy will do you no good if you neglect to use them.

And a lot of things go into making a decision. Your mental condition, most of all.

Including fear.

Jason leapt toward Baker as time slowed down to a crawl. He knew it would be the same for Baker, since the bastard had copied everything about him. Right now you’re thinking that there's no way I can beat you in a sword exchange, Jason thought, a burst of mania spreading across his body. But you're worried that there must be a trick to it. You’re wondering why I look so confident despite the fact we both know I’m weaker. And that makes you afraid.

If Baker fought as usual, he would've easily been able to deliver a decisive killing blow. Jason was weakened and rushing ahead, his approach full of openings. All Baker had to do was respond like he normally would have.

But he didn’t. Fear encircled his mind, prompting him to assume a defensive stance. Baker's intention was clear – while Jason probably couldn’t do anything, it was better to err on the side of caution and obtain more information before taking action. It was a reasonable plan by any standard.

The problem was that Jason Miller was the most unreasonable man in the world.

Jason lifted his sword and readied for the impending clash. Baker raised his steel in response, preparing to execute a defensive parry. Then, just before their blades met, Jason disengaged the movement and shifted, appearing to be feinting where his blade would go. His double's monstrous eyes followed his every motion, waiting for the moment when Jason would commit to a direction for an attack. Baker stayed in a defensive stance, careful, waiting—

—And was left waiting as Jason ran straight past him.

"What are you..." Baker began, before trailing off in disbelief.

Jason couldn't help but grin. The creature’s distance and mindset were being affected by his fears. Baker was a step too far away, and his focus was on survival rather than victory. Still running, Jason turned his head around and tapped two fingers against his forehead, bringing them out to point at Baker in something between a salute and a taunt. “Catch me if you can, bastard!” He took off, laughing maniacally as he left a very confused monster behind him.

YOU MUST KILL—

KILL—

CREATION—

“For a seemingly all-powerful creepy fucking thing, you sure worry a lot,” Jason said, his heartbeat racing and grin widening. “Chill the fuck out, bro.”

CHILL?

“Yeah. Chill.”

Jason heard the sound of heavy, monstrous footsteps racing up behind him, faster than his own and quickly gaining. Each step sounded like the tick of a countdown timer. The moment Baker caught up to him, he would die, and there was very little he could do to avoid that outcome. Jason was outclassed in every way, from levels to actual skill.

And he wasn’t afraid at all.

Jason glanced back to check on his handiwork. Baker's face was twisted into an ugly grimace, regrets displayed plainly on his visage. It was an expected reaction. If he'd unleashed a straightforward, devastating attack on Jason at the beginning of their clash, all of this could've been avoided. Instead, it was stuck giving chase. The creature was clearly getting frustrated – just what Jason wanted. Distance...approach...mindset...

He swept his eyes across the city, taking in the destruction the monsters had wrought, and smiled. I never did find out how far I could push my body since gaining the Character Sheet. It was an oddly peaceful thought. I only know how strong I can be with the bracelet. Good chance I die trying this.

That was just fine with him. He didn’t care about consequences – he just wanted to move his body according to his wildest whims. Jumping forward, Jason landed on top of an abandoned car, using it to leap towards a pileup just ahead.

DON’T.

“Get back and fight me!” Baker thundered. He'd nearly caught up by now.

Jason smiled so wide that his cheeks started to strain. It was so goddamn fun to hear those outraged, powerful voices in sheer disbelief over what they were witnessing. There was very little he enjoyed more than to shock stronger people by pulling an insane stunt they couldn’t believe he would even attempt, much less accomplish. If you’re lacking in skill, compensate with risk, he told himself. It was a policy that had served him well before, and would serve him well today.

With a leap, Jason rebounded off the car pileup and towards a nearby balcony. His foot nearly got caught on the guardrail, but he managed to clear the jump by mere inches, landing safely on steady ground. From there, he saw a faraway rooftop. Jason examined it closely, mentally calculating the distance. Could his legs actually reach that far? If he was wrong, he was going to fall to his death. Low chance of survival. Extra HP wouldn't help him that much, especially in his wounded state.

Not that he was worried. The only reason he wasn't already dead was because he'd been taking risks. Going off of sheer speed, Baker should've caught up to him by now; it was the monster’s hesitation that was costing him. He couldn't predict Jason’s wild turns, or even what axis of movement they were about to travel on. From horizontal, to vertical – and now horizontal again.

When Baker leaped up onto the balcony in pursuit of him, Jason tossed himself through the door of an abandoned apartment. Baker gave chase, but by the time he reached the living room, Jason was nowhere to be found...though the human's loud, taunting laughter showed that he hadn't gone far. "Show yourself!" Baker yelled, slamming his sword into an innocent coffee table. “Stop running, coward!”

“Why?” Jason responded, his voice echoing throughout the apartment. “I’m having so much fun. Come catch me, Masked Fucker!”

“Bastard-“

Baker froze as Jason charged at him from behind a doorway, sword extended in a surprise attack. The monster's survival instinct kicked in, and he took a step back, blade held horizontally over his head in a defensive stance, ready to block either a cut or a thrust at any given moment. Baker's eyes screamed murder; he was planning to go for a finishing blow in his riposte.

Which was why Jason didn't give him the opportunity, instead running past and leaping out of the same balcony he'd used to enter, only briefly stopping to turn around and once again wave at the increasingly frustrated monster. “Come on now, you’re stronger than me. Shouldn’t I be dead by now?”

Make it mad. Joy surged through him at the thought. Fear, anger, frustration...all those feelings lead to mistakes. Let it build up. Look for a small opening, a single crack in the dam holding back all his mistakes...distance...approach...mindset...

One-on-one competitions weren’t just a measure of skill. They were a measure of who fucked up less. Skill helped improve a competitor's competency ratio, but it couldn't keep their mentality from crumbling under pressure. Baker was only now learning what fear was – there was no goddamn way he knew how to handle it.

While Jason was having the time of his goddamn life. Pressure and challenges were blessings for him.

KILL IT!

SUBJUGATE IT!

REMEMBER GAME!

MIGHT DIE!

YOU CAN FALL!

Jason knew deep inside that it was a bad trait to have – not that he could bring himself to care right then – but he adored when people were exasperated at what he was doing, and the more powerful they were, the better. Hearing the almighty voice that had fucked over his life in a state of panic, listening to it agonize as it watched him leap from balcony to rooftop to building...frankly, it gave him a euphoric feeling greater than winning any tournament.

“Funny thing about our game,” Jason muttered, in a calm voice, as he decided on a new rooftop to jump towards. He secured his approach and changed his target only a step before the jump, deciding on a balcony instead. CAREFUL! “You cheated. That’s not very sportsmanlike of you. And if there's one thing I don’t respect, it’s when someone challenges you to a match then fucking cheats."

He kept his voice subdued. Experience had taught him that speaking in a measured, pompous tone while doing something outrageous made people lose their minds even more than usual. If he was shouting, they would simply assume he was mad, and madness was something that could be prepared for. But a person calmly deciding to be insane...not so much. It made Jason less predictable – and everyone else easier for him to manipulate. “You said you would tell me more about Rob if I got to level 30 and killed Baker. That was fine. But you didn’t tell me you were going to try to make me crazy. That’s clear interference with one of the players in the game. Weak shit, man.”

LOOK OUT—

Jason jumped off the balcony, barely dodging an attack from Baker, and braced himself as he crashed through a window. He rolled into another abandoned apartment, wincing in pain as he sprang to his feet. Breaking through glass hurt – if not for his Character Sheet, he would have been covered in jagged shards, bleeding far more than he was. This much damage was fine, though; Jason had suffered worse injuries in football. “Just saying," he continued, "I don’t see a point in playing a game if you’re gonna cheat. How about we change the rules?”

Silence. Amusing, hilarious silence, as if they were inviting him to go on. “You really want that monster dead, right? Then forget the leveling, no way I make it in time without your bracelet.”

ACCEPTABLE TERMS—

PROPOSAL ABSURD—

KILL IT—

THAT IS NOT—

In that moment, Jason realized something. It wasn’t just one overlayed voice speaking to him. It was multiple, distinct voices – and they were divided. Whatever united front they'd presented until now had been thrown to the wind. They hadn't accounted Baker breaking free of their control, nor for Jason rejecting the cursed bracelet.

FINE.

It was the only sound he heard after their disagreement ended, but he could still feel the vague discontent inherent within their decision. The voices had come to meet on this, but a good compromise left everyone unhappy.

KILL BAKER.

INFORMATION ON HUMAN.

This was enough. Jason relaxed, feeling like the final weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He'd been worried until then that, even if he managed to beat Baker, he still wouldn’t find out anything about Rob. Now, that was out of the way. The only thing left to do was to pull off a miracle. Easy.

It was an arrogant thought, but one with plenty of evidence to back it up. Creating miracles out of thin air was his specialty. So...how do I go about killing this guy?

A half-formed idea came to him – and that was enough. He didn’t need a fully-formed plan or a shining beacon at the end of the tunnel. A vague flicker of light was plenty for him to ride the momentum to victory.

It always had been.

Jason landed on the tallest rooftop he could find, exhaustion starting to set in. The building was nearly twenty stories tall, and even with his Character Sheet, he wasn’t sure if he could survive a full drop from an actual skyscraper. Definitely not a direct one, and even if he used something to break his fall, he still had good odds of dying. He'd reached the rooftop after jumping through a lower balcony and climbing his way up, so there was no easy escape route in sight, either.

That was fine.

He knew what he needed to do to win.

“Are you done running?” Baker demanded. Unlike Jason, he didn’t appear winded from the chase, yet he still trembled more. Whether out of fear or anger, none could tell. “I thought you wanted a fight.”

Jason laughed, lifting his sword and resting it over his slumped left shoulder. “It just seemed like our fight deserved a better backdrop for its finale.” His ribs ached. Adrenaline had kept him functioning until now, but the injuries from his last encounters were piling up. He was quickly nearing the point his body would tap out – thankfully, everything would be over soon. “A showdown between the guy who told the voices to fuck off, and the monster who just barked back at them...it deserves to be settled as close to the sky as possible, don’t you think?”

Baker didn't reply immediately. He kept his gaze sharp the entire time, appearing to consider his next words carefully. “I don't understand you, human.”

“Ah, but you do,” Jason said, glancing upwards. “Because you learned a lot from me, didn’t you? My memories, my fears, my abilities...so you must know that I’ve always loved looking up at the sky. You know...this is so freeing. The sky looks beautiful.” Grey clouds had blocked the sun, and an odd, depressively-dark color painted the world above them. Jason still thought it was the most beautiful thing he had seen since Jeanette. “I've always hated being chained down. Told what to do. Guess you felt the same, eh?”

Baker said nothing, but he nodded slowly.

“You're everything I was afraid of. The perfect person that always considers the most logical, mature outcome, and can apply himself toward making it happen...but you know what?” Jason flashed a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his head. “Truth to be told, I could never be like you. I’m not logical or mature. Deep inside, I’m the kind of guy that wants to ride his irrational desires to their insane end. So the way I’m fighting right now isn’t something you can predict.”

“If you are willing to surrender yourself to madness,” Baker questioned him, taking one step forward, “why not accept the bracelet’s power? Why fight your fate?”

Jason laughed loudly. “I’m willing to accept my madness. No one else’s. You’re the same, aren’t you?” He pointed at Baker with his sword. “Why not tell the things that made you to fuck off? Stop killing everything that moves, too. We could be friends.”

“You told me you would teach me fear, human.” Baker spoke in a quiet, measured tone. “I must confess, the fact you mean that is what scares me the most. Remember that I have killed hundreds of humans.”

“Well, you were being controlled by crazy voices. Don’t think that makes you responsible. Whatever, we could work out the details later.” Jason’s voice was sincere, but he didn't so much as blink when he saw Baker extend his sword in his direction. “Guess it’s not gonna work out that way, eh?”

“I have your face, human,” Baker told him. “But it cannot be my face so long as you live.”

Jason sighed. “That's probably for the best. I do still gotta kill you to know what happened to Rob. So let’s go ahead and—“

“—Finish this dance,” Baker told him.

Both swordsmen assumed their stances, a calm stillness about them, waiting for the other to move first.

The dark sky above thundered a warning, and a moment later, a rain heavy in volume yet gentle in speed began to fall on them. Jason’s injuries ached, steaming in the cold, each droplet feeling like a burning icicle going through his skin. Adrenaline wasn't enough to keep the pain and exhaustion out of him, and the gap between their skills was ever-present, threatening him like a knife in the dark. Neither fighter made a sound, only the sound of raindrops against their extended steel blades breaking the silence.

And then Baker struck.

Had it gone for a sure kill, it would have won immediately. But it was intelligent, careful, and not quite arrogant enough to presume that it could defeat Jason in one hit. This sanity was its weakness. Baker started with a quick thrust, both hands on his blade, only taking a half-step forward to prevent a counter from hitting him. Jason had not intended on countering him. His plan still only half-formed in his mind, he held his sword high and pointed down in a hanging guard, redirecting the thrust and taking a step backward.

If Baker had lunged with a full advance, the attack would have killed him. It was his caution against a counterattack that weakened his move. This caution remained in the next step, where he pulled his sword back, not stepping forward until he had it in position to unleash a vertical cut. Jason didn't have the luxury of waiting for a safe opening; his skillset was limited, and he had to make up for it by throwing caution to the wind. He advanced forward while his opponent still had his sword extended, attempting to slam it against the monster’s shoulders as he ran past.

The fighters made contact in that exchange. Baker’s sword came down and slammed on Jason’s left shoulder, and Jason’s sword slammed against the side of his opponent’s bicep. Both direct hits, yet the monster clearly came out of it with less damage, though the overcoats of either man were damaged in a similar fashion. Blunt as their swords might be, it could still damage their clothing. Their exchange appeared to instill confidence in Baker for a second, yet it was gone when he saw Jason’s smirk. Never show fear, Jason told himself, a mirror of his coach’s voice, if you're outclassed in skill and strategy, you can’t lose mentally!

The rain fell heavier on them now.

“Scared yet?” Jason taunted. His shoulder ached, his ribs burned, his body wanted to shut down – but he refused to stop smiling. “Wouldn’t blame you if you were.”

Baker drew a deep breath. It seemed like the creature understood the unsteadying of its nerves now and was trying to control it. That wasn’t good. “My skills far outclass yours,” he muttered. “You will die in the next exchange.”

Jason thought of many clever responses to that, and discarded them all. None felt right. “Yeah,” he acknowledged. “Probably.”

“You don’t seem panicked.”

“‘Probably’ isn’t 100%. ‘Probably’ is ‘probably’...I still have a chance to live, so long as I don’t panic.” Jason bent his knees, lowering his position closer to the ground. His ribs burned. Just a little longer. It was hard to even stand at that moment, and even his overcoat felt too heavy on him. With his free hand and the power from his Character Sheet, Jason ripped off both his overcoat and the shirt underneath in one motion, throwing the fabric aside and allowing the cold rain to cool off his burning skin. “We’ve been having a fantastic fight here. Why stress over things I can’t control?”

“The outcome of the fight is something you can control, coward.”

“Amateur.” The disdain in Jason’s voice was harsh enough that Baker winced as if he had been struck. “All you can do in a contest is your best. The outcome won’t always be what you want or even what you deserve. Sometimes, the less skilled person wins. Sometimes, hard work doesn’t save the day. Variance always happens.” This was something he had come to learn his whole life. “There is no such a thing as a sure winner.”

“Yet you act as though you are certain to win,” Baker noted.

“Yet I act as though I am certain to win,” Jason agreed.

The monster let out a sound of contemplation for just a moment, then also ripped his overcoat and shirt, standing as Jason’s exact mirror once again. His form had grown more human, the hints of scales beneath its skin nearly gone, and it barely sported any injuries. “I resisted tanks. What makes you think you can kill me without so much as a single Skill or explosive?”

“Blunt damage seems to do just fine to you, though,” Jason taunted. “Just have to bludgeon you to death.”

“You landed a direct hit on me, and it did nothing,” Baker insisted. His voice was growing more anguished, more desperate. “So why – why do you fight fate? Accept their help! Their power! Why...why...” Baker shook his head. It was struggling to find the right words, an almost physical pain evident on his face. “Why...how do you keep smiling?”

Jason looked at the monster and studied it carefully. It was clearly disturbed, which was according to plan, but he couldn't bring himself to mock it further. Beneath the heavy rain, he lifted his sword and looked at the monster with the utmost seriousness. “I don’t know what’s right or wrong,” he told it, frankly. “Maybe I've already lost sight of what’s important or rational. But even if I happen to be wrong, I’ve already made my decision – so there’s nothing to fear, because I already understood what might happen the moment I threw away that bracelet. I can accept whatever comes after it...and I'll pay any cost to be me.”

Both swordsmen gazed deep into each other’s eyes. They would never know exactly how the other thought. Despite having their selves so intrinsically connected, they were perhaps more different than any other two existences in this world or any other. Nothing is ever quite as different as a man’s ideals and his own self. Yet, standing as close to the sky as they could, beneath the cold rain that crashed against their bare skin, they came to a silent understanding – it would end with the next exchange.

Baker dashed forward and brought his sword down in a mighty cut. Jason blocked it, taking a step backward, his low stance allowing for a quick recovery. The step backward combined with his low center of gravity allowed him to disperse some of the shock and gain enough time to keep up with the monster. Despite the bad angle, Baker used his superior skill to bring his sword up and repeat the vertical cut once more. Again, Jason blocked it and took a step backward. His ribs burned and he felt his breath start to catch. JUST. ONE. MORE. STEP. Baker put everything he had in the next clash, and Jason needed to take two steps backwards to properly absorb the impact.

He stopped when his feet reached for the ground beneath him and found nothing. Behind him was only a drop all the way to the city below. Jason could no longer step backward to absorb the shock, and there was no way to dodge to the side without being pushed off the edge. “It ends here, human – JASON MILLER!” Baker barked out. “FAREWELL!”

Baker lunged forward with his blade raised, intending to lower it in a final cut. It wasn’t a half-step anymore. It was the destructive, final attack he had been avoiding unleashing until now.

I have been waiting, Jason thought, time slowing to a crawl, for this moment. The moment you let go of your fears and try for the attack you've been so hesitant to use. Jason watched the movement carefully. Baker straightened his bent right leg to explode forward, his body nearly mid-air in the attack. It’s frustrating when you can’t use the attack you want to the most. Like you’re chained down. When you finally get to use it, the euphoria that comes with it makes it faster, stronger...but also sloppier. This isn’t just in fighting – it’s every sport.

Jason threw his sword aside. I’ve found it. The weak point in the dam.

Baker’s hands were raised high. It was going to be a destructive move, and he knew that Jason couldn't hurt him from the distance he was at, even with his blade. The monster was far stronger than the human – but mid-air like this, all the strength in the world wouldn’t have mattered. Momentum was different. The monster’s technique wavered, if only for a moment, and in his rage, he attacked from a distance that was less than ideal.

THIS DISTANCE—THIS APPROACH—THIS MINDSET—

Jason wrapped both arms around his opponent’s torso – and then kicked off the ledge of the skyscraper’s rooftop, jumping backwards towards the city. DEAD ON!

Both swordsmen flew off the building, and there was nowhere to land but the ground. Baker was the better wrestler, but that meant little mid-air. Jason’s suplexing motion had turned them both around as they fell, and he adjusted his grip so that his own head would be pointed to the sky, planting both feet against Baker's armpits to keep the creature aimed straight down. Baker struggled mightily, trying to turn and raise his sword, and accomplishing little. They nearly turned around a few times, but Jason forced the attack to remain true.

“Nobody decides my fate but me!” he roared.

The dark stormclouds had not stopped blocking the sun. “Hey,” Baker whispered, a melancholic tone about him. His voice was nearly inaudible at that speed. “You're right. The sky...really is beautiful.”

The mighty meteoric crash came to a halt. Baker’s head reached the ground first, and Jason held on tight, not letting go even as the impact touched his own bones. His legs broke first, placed so near the creature’s arms, but he willed them to remain in place, shattered as they were. Baker had to die at that moment. Jason squeezed the monster’s torso with a grip so tight that he didn't know whether he would let go first or if his arms would fall off. Baker resisted bullets and explosives – blunt damage would have to do. And if his sword wasn’t enough to do anything...gravity was the great equalizer.

Jason’s mind went blurry next. He knew his arms must have let go of the monster at some point, but his aching headache told him he'd hit his skull in the process. A cloud of dust had emerged from their point of impact, blinding and all-encompassing. How much time had passed? In his daze, he couldn't tell. It could have been seconds or minutes – the fact that he didn't know was concerning. I’m still alive, he thought, genuinely surprised. What did I break?

What hadn’t he broken was probably a better question. A few ribs were definitely piercing something, and his arms had twisted in unnatural ways, the white of his bones poking through the blood river that colored his entire body now. His legs were broken in enough different places that they almost zigzagged back into a straight pattern. “Funny,” he muttered, his voice weak, “don’t think most people get to know what their bones look like. That’s whiter than I thought. Figured it would be yellower.”

Rubble started to move beside him. “Please tell me you’re dead,” Jason muttered, “I’m out of gas.”

Reached Level 24!

5 Stat Points Gained!

Reached Level 25!

5 Stat Points Gained!

Reached Level 26!

5 Stat Points Gained!

“Thank god,” Jason muttered.

EXCELLENT.

“Not you,” he spat out. Jason coughed up blood – not exactly excellent news, but he was more or less confident he would survive this. Some quick Vitality point allocation might be wise, however. Jason wanted to shout back at the voices, to demand more of them, but he felt like an exhausted athlete forced to talk to a commissioner after a tournament, and most complaints seemed oddly unimportant. “Baker’s dead. Tell me.” Jason felt the life draining out of him, but there was just enough stubbornness anchoring his consciousness to this world. “Tell me about Rob.”

There was silence.

“If you have a bone of sportsmanship in your body, tell me!” Jason demanded. It was the worst accusation he thought one could lay upon another. “I won fair and square!”

The voices talked among themselves again. Distant, quiet, a vague mutter at best. They couldn't come to an agreement.

Push it. “Is Rob alive?” Jason shouted. His tone was threatening, as if he could actually harm the voices in some way. As if he knew where they were. As if he knew what they were. As if every bone in his body wasn’t broken. But he'd shouted them into compliance before, and he would do it again. “Is. Rob. Alive?”

YES.

A wave of happiness and relief swept through his body. Jason might as well not have been injured anymore. It was worth every broken bone and every time he'd brushed against his own sanity for this. “Is he happy?”

Murmurs of disagreement in the faint voices. Jason would have laughed if it didn’t hurt so much. “That’s how life be sometimes, eh?” The lack of a quick negative was enough for him. “What’s his level right now?”

51.

Jason let out a sound of annoyance. “Goddamn it, that powergaming bastard. I have my work cut out for me if I want to catch up to him.” He considered what else he wanted to know. There was a list of rehearsed questions he had thought of, but none of them seemed important at the moment. If Rob had just come back, and we were sharing a few beers over some shitty video game...what's the first thing I would ask?

“Has he gotten laid?”

Silence from most of the voices, almost more out of bafflement than refusal to speak. Only one spoke up. YES.

“That’s rad. You go, Robbie,” Jason muttered. It was a silly question, but it told him a lot. That Rob hadn’t gone insane, that he had people beside him, and that he was at least borderline functional. That was enough. Fucking hell, it hurt to talk. It hurt to exist at that moment. But there was one question he still had to ask. “Does he hate your fucking guts and want to kill you?”

Heavy silence fell. It was a disconcerting sound, and the first one that made Jason think of the voices as something other than gods or anything of the sort. Gods wouldn't hesitate like that. Finally, one voice rose above the others, decisive and certain. EXTREMELY.

So many questions he wanted to ask...yet none seemed to matter. His friend was alive. He was at least mostly happy. And he wasn’t alone. That meant a lot. He had other questions, of course, but they mattered little. Will I see him again? What did it matter what they told him? So long as they were alive, they would meet again, no matter what the voices had to tell him. “Last question,” Jason muttered, “tell me, voices playing at god...are you afraid?”

There was a silence at the question and whether out of shock or something else Jason could not tell.

“You wanted to drive me crazy. Use me, for some reason – probably because Rob hasn’t been very easy to control. Guy is almost as stubborn as me. But you didn’t count on me throwing away your bracelet or your monster breaking free. You also didn’t expect me to beat your little creation, did you?” Silence still reigned. “Maybe you thought we were just your playthings. That humans would be an amusing thing to distract yourself with...and maybe, just maybe, you started to realize that might have been a mistake. You're feeling a chill. You're starting to wonder, ‘If humans can resist our madness, what else can they do?’ And you don’t have an answer. For the first time, you feel unsure. You don’t know what’s gonna happen. You’re looking at me and wondering ‘If this went wrong, what else will?’”

NOT ABOUT FRIEND.

NOT PART OF DEAL.

The voices started to fade and Jason laughed. “I’m not your prey. I’m not your toy. I’m your opponent. This isn’t a war, it’s a race – to see if Rob or I get to kill you first!”

A different kind of silence fell. Not an eerie stillness, but a complete absence of the horror that had been haunting him for the last few weeks. The voices were gone. For now, at least.

“Cowards,” Jason muttered, shifting his weak eyes to the sky. Sunlight pierced through the dark clouds, bringing about a smile when they touched his face. “Hey Rob,” he muttered at the sky, “hope you’re doing well. I just kicked the shit out of the personification of my depression, then shit-talked some crappy gods until they left. You’d get a kick out of it.”