The woods are quiet again. Too quiet.

Moonlight slips through the trees, pale and cold, touching the rotting cabins like forgotten gravestones. The lake doesn’t move. It only watches.

Jason stands at the edge of the water, tall and still, his breath slow beneath the mask. Every step he takes presses memories into the dirt—memories the world tried to bury.

Then the voice comes back.

Familiar.

“Jason…”

His hands tighten.

“They laughed,” his mother whispers inside his head. “They forgot you.” Her voice curls deeper, sharper now. “Make them suffer.” “Make them remember Jason.”

Images flash behind his eyes—faces, screams, the water closing over him long ago. The pain never left. It only waited.

Jason turns toward the camp.

A lantern flickers in the distance. Voices echo. Life. Targets.

His mother’s voice hums with pride as he begins to walk. Tonight, Crystal Lake will remember.