Chapter 13
LIORA
We lurch forward into the next room. The corridor disgorges us unceremoniously. My feet smack the floor hard, and I taste copper and adrenaline. I spin, fists clenched.
“What the hell was that thing?” I demand, voice loud and cracked. My heart still pounds from the corridor collapse. My ribs ache. My limbs feel weak, as though the maze itself is trying to drown me in gravity.
Borzen stares at me, silence carved into his face. He’s breathing hard. His mechanical arm twitches.
Dravven shrugs, as if the world’s elasticity extends to this madness. “A Reaper, obviously. But he didn’t kill you. That’s new.”
I glare. “So you’re okay with that? That we just stand here, blinking, while monsters rearrange our bones?”
He glances sideways. “I’m okay with staying alive. One step at a time.”
Trust in this maze is as brittle as the walls. I feel distance lurch between us, something I can’t quite name. Because if Dravven and Borzen knew what that thing meant… what it is… would they see me differently?
I shake it off. Now’s not the time for doubt.
The door ahead opens to a circular chamber.
The floor is a ring track—etched metal plates that rotate slowly, like a giant spinner.
The walls are etched with lines of text—encoded phrases, symbols I recognize from earlier rooms. Lines of code I once wrote as puzzles.
A cruel twist: the maze makes me recite what I built.
A speaker crackles. Low, smooth voice:
“Walk the circuit. Recite the phrases. Stay in sync. One misstep and punishment will be swift.”
Borzen steps forward. “Stay close.”
I nod. Dravven takes the rear. The civilians—two of them—shuffle between us, eyes darting. The mute boy is just a shadow against the wall.
We begin to walk. Clockwise. Soft mechanical hum underfoot. I memorize the phrases as we move: “Arc of the shift,” “Echo’s reflection,” “Binary’s fall,” “Light reversed.” Each turn in the track triggers a syllable we must speak in perfect cadence. My heart thuds in my throat, but I steady my voice.
“Arc of the shift.”
“Echo’s reflection.”
“Binary’s fall.”
“Light reversed.”
We complete one revolution. The pressure eases, for a heartbeat.
I dare a glance at the civilians. Their faces are taut with terror. The younger one whispers a phrase wrong—her tongue slips.
I freeze.
Before I can backtrack, the wall behind her dissolves—like vapor pulling away—and she vanishes. No scream. No warning. Just one moment she’s there, then gone. The track continues spinning. My feet carry me forward automatically, but my mind staggers.
Dirk’s avatar appears overhead, truncating the ceiling glow.
“Bonus round unlocked!” he purrs, mock-lilting. “Only the worthy advance!”
The floor lurches. The remaining panels shift. The track reverses. We’re forced to run.
I don’t argue. I sprint, reciting on the fly. My voice shakes.
“Arc of the shift… Echo’s reflection… Binary’s fall… Light reversed…”
We emerge into a corridor. My legs feel unsteady. The maze air tastes like charred plastic and ozone.
Borzen slaps the wall. “That bastard.”
Dravven goes white. “He’s taunting you.”
I keep my eyes forward—focus on breathing, on pulse, on feeling the air in my lungs. But a tremor’s inside me: fear, rage, bewilderment.
We reach another chamber. It’s quiet. Too quiet.
Suddenly, walls flicker. The Maze Master’s avatar swirls into existence—less cartoon, more twisted hologram.
“Do you like what I did with your code, sweetheart?” His voice is syrupy, venom soft. “I added some new features. You’ll love the climax.”
My stomach drops. My knees tremble. The voice echoes off walls. The walls themselves seem to lean in.
He stares at me through every panel.
I try to speak. My throat is dry. “What… what did you do?”
He smirks, flickers, then vanishes.
The walls reset. The lights strobe. The corridor pulses.
I’m shaking.
Because it’s real.
He used my code. My skeleton. My genius, my flaws.
He’s been writing my game in death.
I sink to the floor, fingers pressed to my head. The noise in my skull is deafening. The world blurs.
Borzen crouches beside me. His voice is low: “We walk forward. We survive this. One piece at a time.”
Dravven kneels across, voice calmer than I feel. “He meant for you to win. Or at least to think you could. It’s part of the trap.”
I press my cheek to the cold metal floor. My tears are hot, salty. The Maze hums in response, like a living being that knows how much I’m bleeding inside.
I whisper, almost to myself: “I built this… and now it’s devouring me.”
But even in the darkness inside me, a spark remains. One small thought: If he’s using me, then I can use him back.
I look up. I see Borzen’s face, grim and unwavering. Dravven’s eyes, fierce and haunted. Behind them—corridor, shadows, the promise of more death.
If this is the climax, I’ll face it.
If this is my maze twisted, I’ll untwist it.
I push myself up. My limbs scream. I taste iron in my mouth.
“Come on,” I rasp. “Let’s reverse this code.”
We step forward together.