13th District

Labyrinth of Death

The cold breeze of the morning bit into Kael’s skin as he stepped into the massive arena. His breath misted in the air, swirling around him as the towering walls of the labyrinth loomed ahead. The ground beneath his feet was cracked and uneven, and the distant sounds of the other competitors preparing echoed off the stone walls. His heart pounded in his chest, but his mind was focused—on Arya, on surviving.

The moment he set foot in the arena, a loud horn blared, signaling the beginning of the Ascension Trials. The ground beneath him trembled, and the walls of the labyrinth shifted with a rumble that felt like it could tear the world apart. The arena was not static, as Kael had imagined. It was alive, constantly changing, moving, designed to test every instinct, every flaw, every vulnerability. And he had just become a part of it.

“Good luck, Ryden,” a voice called out from behind him, and Kael turned to see Lirien from District 3 smirking at him from across the arena. She had an almost unsettling calmness about her as she walked toward the maze’s entrance. Her eyes locked onto him for just a moment, a challenge in her gaze that Kael didn’t appreciate. He didn’t care for games. He was here for survival, and he wasn’t interested in what the Capital found amusing.

Without another word, she disappeared into the shifting labyrinth, and Kael’s gaze darted around, looking for any sign of Arya. But there was nothing. The crowd roared somewhere above them, but it felt distant—distant and suffocating. He could feel his heart race, but he steeled himself. He wasn’t about to lose his head now. He had to keep moving. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by the grandeur of the Capital or the people watching. It was just him now.

Kael took his first steps into the maze. The walls towered above him, impossibly high, casting dark shadows that seemed to swallow everything whole. The ground beneath him was uneven, and the air smelled like old stone and rust. Every few seconds, there was a low hum in the air, and the stone walls shifted, creating new paths and obstacles. He knew better than to trust the labyrinth to lead him anywhere. It was designed to disorient and confuse, to make anyone who entered feel lost, trapped, and alone.

A rustle to his right caught his attention. His senses went on high alert, and he froze, waiting for the next sound. From the darkness emerged a figure—a silhouette at first, then a man, tall and lean with muscles that rippled under his clothes. His eyes glinted with the coldness of someone who had seen the horrors of the trials before. Kael’s breath caught in his throat as the man stepped closer.

“Well, well,” the man said, his voice smooth like silk but with a venomous edge. “A Ryden from the 7th. How quaint. I wonder if you’re as weak as your district or if you’ll actually put up a fight.”

Kael didn’t respond. His eyes studied the man, noticing the gleam of knives strapped to his waist—four in total, each of them meticulously sharpened and deadly. This was no ordinary competitor. This man was a fighter—trained, confident, and far too calm for Kael’s liking. He was from District 3, the district known for its precision and deadly weapons, especially knives.

The man, noticing Kael’s stillness, chuckled darkly. “You know, I’m not here to waste time. If you’re hoping for mercy, you’re out of luck.”

Kael’s heart hammered in his chest, but he didn’t flinch. He was far from helpless, though his body was still weak and ill-prepared for this kind of confrontation. His instincts, however, were sharp. He wasn’t a trained fighter, but he could think on his feet. His mind raced, calculating his options, weighing the risks. He needed to get away, but his only option was to fight.

“Come on then, let’s see if you can actually land a hit,” the man taunted, spinning one of his knives between his fingers with expert ease. “I’ve killed bigger men than you. You’ll be another casualty before the day’s over.”

The taunt was enough. Kael shifted into a defensive stance, his body coiled and ready. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t have the skill for it. But there was no choice. The man lunged first, a flash of silver in the dim light. Kael barely had time to react, sidestepping just as the knife whizzed past his ear.

The man’s eyes burned with amusement as he circled, knife raised. Kael’s breathing quickened, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Another strike came—faster this time. Kael ducked, narrowly avoiding the blade that sliced through the air just above his head. He could feel the sting of it as it grazed the skin of his cheek, and blood welled up, dripping down his neck.

“Is that all you’ve got?” the man mocked, wiping the blood from his blade with an exaggerated flourish. “Pathetic.”

Kael’s heart hammered in his chest, but he pushed the fear aside. His breath came fast and shallow as the man from District 3 stalked him, eyes glinting with cold calculation. The air between them crackled with tension, the man’s presence like a shadow closing in, ready to strike.

“Come on, Ryden,” the man taunted, flicking his knife with practiced ease. “Let’s see how long you can last.”

Kael didn’t respond, his eyes flicking around the maze. There was no space to run. His mind raced—he wasn’t a trained fighter, but his instincts were sharp. He had to outthink this man, outlast him. He couldn’t win a head-on fight. He knew that. But he could survive.

The man lunged, his movements swift, too quick for Kael to avoid with brute force. The knife came down in a deadly arc aimed at his chest. Kael reacted instinctively, sidestepping, but the blade caught the edge of his jacket, tearing it open. The cold metal grazed his skin, drawing blood. Pain shot through him, but Kael didn’t flinch.

The man’s smirk deepened as he pressed his attack, each strike calculated and precise, pushing Kael back further. Kael’s feet slid across the uneven ground as he parried another strike, the edge of the knife scraping across his arm. His blood dripped onto the stone floor, but he kept his focus.

“You’re slower than you look,” the man sneered. “Not enough to survive.”

Kael clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to let himself get cut down so easily. He needed time. He needed to think.

The man came again, faster this time, his knife flashing in the low light. Kael barely dodged the next blow, his shoulder grazing the blade. The pain was sharp, but he didn’t give in to it. He pushed forward instead, using his body as a shield and trying to push the man off balance. The knife struck the ground with a clanging sound as Kael managed to twist the man’s wrist just enough to weaken his grip. The man growled in frustration, spinning and regaining his composure in a heartbeat.

Kael’s breath was coming in sharp bursts, his muscles burning with each dodge and misstep. He needed a plan, and fast.

His eyes darted to the stone walls around him. They weren’t smooth. There were cracks, uneven surfaces—perfect for leverage. He needed to use the environment. He couldn’t overpower this man in a direct confrontation. But maybe, just maybe, he could outsmart him.

Kael feigned a stumble, his legs buckling slightly as if he were losing his footing. The man didn’t hesitate. He lunged again, blade raised to strike down with precision. Kael twisted at the last moment, letting the man’s momentum carry him forward. The knife struck the stone wall with a sickening thud, embedding itself deep into the rock.

Now was his chance.

Kael threw his weight into the man’s side, using the brief opening to slam him against the wall. The man’s breath left him in a whoosh as his back hit the rough stone, but he wasn’t down. Not yet.

But Kael didn’t hesitate. He kicked the knife from the man’s hand, sending it skittering across the ground, out of reach. He grabbed for the man’s throat, fingers tightening, but the man’s knee shot up, knocking Kael off balance. He stumbled back, pain lancing through his ribs, but he stayed on his feet, his gaze never leaving the opponent.

The man growled, blood dripping from a cut across his cheek. “You’re still alive, Ryden. I don’t know how, but you will regret this.”

Kael’s pulse raced as he adjusted his stance, trying to ignore the pain in his side and the way his legs trembled with fatigue. The man was an animal—relentless, dangerous. And Kael had no choice but to keep moving, keep outthinking him.

This wasn’t just about brute force. It was about survival. Kael needed to push this fight into the man’s weaknesses—his arrogance. He couldn’t win this by strength, but if he could make the man make a mistake, he could survive.

With a sudden burst of speed, Kael lunged forward. The man reacted, but not quickly enough. Kael sidestepped, spinning to the side as the man’s knife sliced through the air where his chest had been only a moment ago. Kael grabbed the man’s arm in mid-swing, twisting it behind his back, forcing him to the ground. The man struggled, but Kael didn’t let go.

With his other hand, Kael grabbed a loose stone from the ground, using it to strike at the man’s head. The blow wasn’t enough to knock him out, but it was enough to make him stop moving.

Kael’s chest heaved as he caught his breath, his pulse still racing. The man groaned beneath him, but he didn’t fight anymore. Kael stood, stumbling back with shaky legs, unsure how he’d managed to pull it off.

It wasn’t clean, it wasn’t pretty, but he was still alive.

“Stay down,” Kael hissed, his voice low and steady. “I don’t want to kill you. I just want to survive.”

He didn’t stick around to check if the man had passed out. He couldn’t. There was still more to survive.

Kael turned and ran deeper into the maze, his heart pounding with the reality of what he’d just done. He had no training. No real experience. But he had something the man didn’t expect: the will to survive. And if that meant using his wits to defeat a trained killer, then so be it.

Survival was all that mattered now.