The pressure didn't stop.
It spread.
Campus felt different.
Too many eyes.
Too many pauses.
"…this is getting worse," Iris said.
"…yes."
"…can it stop?"
"…no."
"…figures."
They walked—
Closer than before.
Less distance.
More awareness.
Then—
A voice.
"You're slipping."
They stopped.
One of the observers stood ahead.
Alone.
"…new approach," Jared muttered.
"…I don't like new approaches."
"…noted."
The man stepped forward.
"You improved."
"…yes."
"But not enough."
Silence.
Iris clenched her fists.
"…just say what you want."
The man looked at her.
Long.
Careful.
"…you're the weakness."
Silence.
"…I KNOW," she snapped.
"…confirmed," Jared said.
"…JARED."
"…focus."
The man smiled slightly.
"Remove her."
Silence.
Everything froze.
"…no," Jared said instantly.
"…then you fail."
"…define fail."
A pause.
The man's voice lowered.
"You don't survive."
Silence.
Iris stepped back slightly.
"…this is insane."
"…yes."
The man turned.
"…next phase soon."
And walked away.
Silence remained.
Heavy.
Because now—
It wasn't implied.
It was direct.