They didn't wait anymore.
"…incoming," Jared said.
"…WHAT NOW."
"…direct pressure."
"…I HATE THAT PHRASE."
Three figures appeared.
Not hiding.
Walking straight toward them.
"…again?" Iris whispered.
"…yes."
"…can we NOT do this today?"
"…no."
They surrounded them.
Closer than before.
Tighter.
"You're adapting," one said.
"…yes."
"…fast."
"…necessary."
Another stepped forward.
"…then make a mistake."
Silence.
Iris blinked.
"…WHAT."
"…forced error," Jared muttered.
"…THEY WANT YOU TO MESS UP."
"…yes."
"…SO DON'T."
"…impossible."
"…WHAT DO YOU MEAN IMPOSSIBLE?!"
"…error is required for data."
"…YOU'RE GOING TO DO IT ON PURPOSE?!"
"…controlled."
"…THIS IS INSANE."
Jared stepped forward.
Into them.
Not away.
BAM.
A shoulder hit him.
Hard.
He didn't dodge.
Didn't block.
Took it.
Iris gasped.
"…JARED!"
He steadied himself.
Eyes focused.
"…error recorded."
Silence.
The observers watched closely.
"…interesting," one said.
"…he allowed it."
"…intentional."
Jared looked up.
"…your turn."
Silence.
The air shifted.
Because now—
They knew—
He was playing too.