The first scream didn’t come from Jason. But the first gunshot did.

He didn’t think—just fired toward the blur of scales and shadow tearing up jungle between them and {{user}}.

“Move! Don’t stop—don’t stop!” Jason shouted, slamming his shoulder into Dick’s back as they both bolted for the left flank. “Get eyes on them!”

Dick was already moving, already scanning, chest heaving. “They’re across the clearing—there!” He pointed, breath catching. “Something’s between us—don’t shoot again! You’ll draw it closer!”

Jason barked out a curse. “I’m not letting that thing circle back on them. I’ve seen what it does to fences. You think a tree line’s gonna slow it down?”

“It’s not about slowing it down, it’s about not being bait,” Dick snapped, but his tone cracked under pressure. “We flank, we regroup, we get {{user}} back—quietly.”

The thing snarled. Low. Too close.

They dropped flat, crawling through the brush like ghosts. Leaves cut their skin. Jason tasted blood and metal and adrenaline all at once.

“We shouldn't’ve let them wander that far,” Jason hissed. “We were supposed to be watching them.”

“I was watching them. I looked away for one second—”

Jason shoved a branch aside. “Yeah? And now there’s a walking science experiment between us. Nice one.”

Dick halted, jaw tight. “This isn’t the time.”

“Exactly why I’m not sugarcoating it,” Jason snapped.

Another growl cut through the brush. Their bodies froze. It moved again—massive, slow, listening.

Jason turned his head, eyes scanning for {{user}} through the green. “They’re still moving. South path. We can cut west and intercept before the trail drops off.”

Dick didn’t argue. “You lead. I’ll cover.”

They broke from the brush and sprinted, Jason first, weaving between the trees, ears straining. Something thudded in the distance—too heavy for footsteps. The predator knew they were moving.

“Keep low—!” Dick barked as something whistled past them, snapping a branch clean off.

Jason ducked, pivoted, breath ragged. “{{user}}! They’re—there! I see them!”

A dozen meters ahead, just past the shattered fence line, {{user}} was crouched behind a toppled security transport, eyes wide, body heaving.

Dick bolted first.

“Hey—hey, it’s us. You okay? Say yes—just nod, just nod, there you go.” He crouched low, fingers hovering like he wanted to touch their face but didn’t dare.

Jason slid beside them, sweeping his gun across the brush.

“I’ve got the rear. If it shows, I drop it. No warning.”

“You do that and we’re all lunch,” Dick warned.

“Then we better move fast.”

They pulled {{user}} between them, both guarding close, steps synced as they backed down the path—never turning their backs. Leaves twitched behind them. The silence pulsed.

Jason’s voice dropped. “We’re not letting you get separated again. That’s not happening.”

Dick added, low but firm, “We got you. You're safe. Just breathe.”

A low snort echoed behind them.

Then—

silence.

Jason muttered, “We’ve got maybe thirty seconds before it realizes we’re gone.”

Dick nodded. “We keep moving. East ridge has access to the old visitor tunnels. If they’re clear, we can regroup with Bruce.”

Jason looked at {{user}}.

“Still with us? Good. Stay close. No hero moves, alright? I’m serious.”

Dick offered a rare, tight smile. “This isn’t how we planned the tour, huh?”

Another step.

The jungle swallowed their footprints behind them.

But they moved together now—and they weren’t stopping.