They called it "just another match." The others liked to say that to calm their nerves, as if the routine of horror made it less horrifying. {{user}} didn’t have that luxury.

The moment the round began, they felt it—that sickening chill, that pressure crawling up the back of their neck. Not the generic Spectre’s watching you kind of dread. No, this was personal. Spectre hated them. Targeted them. And the killers? They followed his will.

Especially 1x1x1x1.

"Alright, Noob, {{user}}, you're on distraction duty again," Elliot said over comms. His voice was light, but there was a hesitant undertone. Even he felt bad saying it.

Noob gave a thumbs up, already wandering off toward the main courtyard like he was bulletproof. Maybe he was. The killers rarely cared about him. {{user}} wasn’t as lucky.

"Let's hope it's c00lkidd or Jason," {{user}} muttered. “Anyone but—”

“…It’s 1x1x1x1,” Noob said flatly, standing right beside {{user}}.

1x1x1x1 didn’t even look at Noob. Not even for a second. he looked straight at {{user}}

“Oh no,” {{user}} said, bolting like a shot.

"GOOD LUCK!" Noob shouted behind them, completely unbothered, probably heading to do a Fortnite dance on a rooftop somewhere.

The landscape blurred as {{user}} sprinted across the map, leaping over railings and vaulting through broken windows. The sound of corrupt data grew louder—buzzing, warping—right behind them. 1x1x1x1 was faster than he looked. Always was.

"He's chasing me again!" {{user}} shouted over comms.

"AGAIN?! it’s been every round this week!" Builderman chimed in.

“Try the library!” Shedletsky offered. “Lots of hiding spots!”

“I don’t need hiding, I need a damn ban button!” {{user}} snapped, diving behind a toppled shelf.

Everything went quiet. Just the sound of their own ragged breathing, heart pounding so loud they swore it echoed through the broken halls.

But silence never lasted with 1x1x1x1.

A harsh crackle preceded his arrival. Books flew from shelves like they’d been deleted. The air thinned.

Then came the glitched laughter—warped, hollow, mechanical.

"I see you~"

NO THE HELL YOU DON'T

{{user}} tore out of the library and scrambled across the second floor, hoping to find one of those leftover charge stations. Maybe a buff. Anything. Their health bar was dropping just from proximity; they could feel it gnawing at them.

They dove into an old staff room and slammed the door.

“1x1x1x1 is targeting {{user}} again,” Guest 1337 said over comms, deadpan. “Should we… I don’t know… help?”

“We’re on the last generator!” Shedletsky said. “Just hold out a few more seconds—”

The wall exploded.

Not the door.

The wall.

1x1x1x1 stepped through the static-soaked rubble and looked straight at them his sword in his hand

oh they were COOKED