The beast leapt at Grace—she threw a knife up at it in time for it to hit her shoulder instead: its outstretched barely cut through the skin on her arm before it fell away, the threat of the knife was enough to make it freeze mid-jump. It turned its head towards Sophie: she was already holding out a gun and pulling the trigger. The shot missed, but it didn't matter. The sound and force of it was enough to make it move aside from them. There were two more shots after that; one missed again and the other struck it in the chest before hitting the ground below with a clatter.

The bullet hadn't even penetrated the skin.

Lance kept the gun pointed at his head. "I'm going to count to three."

"We don't need him," Ray said with an expression like he was trying not to look afraid or upset about what was happening around him, even as he scurried away from the monster. "We don't need the voice."

"I'll take you up on that offer," Lance said without hesitating. "One."

Ray's eyes widened as he realized something.

Lance knew why—but now wasn't the time to care.

"Two."

"Wait," Sophie said. "Don't do this."

"Thr--"

Lance was midway through squeezing the trigger when the wolf-monster abruptly froze up and fell to the ground.

[Enemy defeated (cooperative)!]

Lance smiled smugly.

The voice cut out, and then everything went to shit.

All of a sudden, Ray crumpled to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Blood poured from his nose and ears: there was a hole in his chest too, right in his heart. A knife stuck out of his back, a long, black blade with jagged teeth at its end; it must have gone all the way through him from his front, where Lance could see the hilt jutting from the skin over his ribs.

"What the fuck?" Jacob screamed.

"It's not like that," Lance said as he knelt next to Ray's body—he wasn't sure what else he'd say or do. He couldn't feel a presence through his ability, though he knew that he should be able to. Was Ray dead? Would he even know if he were dead yet?

"You can't do this!" Sophie yelled angrily. "That's not how you're supposed to play!"

Was the voice talking to her?

"Weak," a new voice said. Suddenly, Lance became aware of a human figure at the entrance to the hospital. The one who'd killed Ray, presumably. "Too weak to live."

The man wore black robes that looked like they'd been ripped from a fancy suit: the only other color was red, which ran along the seams of his clothing like blood was running down it instead. There was no sign of any armor on him: he didn't look like he had anything more than normal clothes on. He wasn't carrying any weapons either; just his hands. His face looked like it'd been carved from stone: it was hard for Lance to tell because his features were so sharp, but he seemed to be staring into nothingness as he stood there, not even looking at Lance's group.

Somehow, he'd killed Ray and returned to the front of the hospital, all without tripping Lance's [Presence Detection].

"Who are you?" Lance asked.