175
Author: Samster_x
last update2025-12-16 15:33:21

~Laurent

I stopped talking.

Not because I was out of breath.

Not because I was scared.

But because I finally understood something simple and ugly.

Whether this was the real Denzel or not didn’t matter anymore.

Hesitation was no longer mercy.

It was suicide. I had underestimated him and if I didn't adjust, I'd be seriously injured.

I shifted my stance.

The air around me changed.

Not violently. Not explosively.

It just… tightened.

Like the space itself had decided to pay attention.

Denzel moved first.

Of course he did.

A gust of compressed wind detonated where I had been standing—but I wasn’t there anymore.

Shadow Step.

I reappeared to his right, palm driving toward his ribs.

He turned with it.

Too clean.

Too ready.

Our forearms collided instead, shock rippling outward. Stone cracked beneath our feet. The impact rattled up my bones and into my spine.

I didn’t retreat.

I stepped in.

Again.

My movements stopped being careful. Stopped being polite. I wove between his strikes, not dodging a
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  • 180

    ~LaurentI knew before Kendrix spoke.It was in the way he wouldn’t meet my eyes.In the way his jaw stayed clenched, like if he loosened it even a little, something ugly would spill out.Calista stood a few steps away, arms folded, confusion written all over her face. She didn’t understand the silence yet. She hadn’t lived in this world long enough to recognize the shape of bad news before it spoke.Denzel said nothing. He watched Kendrix instead.I exhaled slowly. “You’re the only one who saw what happened,” I said. Not a question.Kendrix nodded once.“Start from the beginning.”He swallowed. Then finally looked at me.“When you disappeared… everything collapsed fast.” His voice was rough, scraped raw by memory. “Vyrath’s forces flooded the lower districts. Monster patrols, trackers, bloodhounds—whatever you want to call them. They weren’t searching randomly. They knew our patterns.”My hands curled into fists at my sides.“You and Ivellé went into hiding,” I said.“Yeah.” A bitter

  • 179

    ~LaurentThe air outside the Maze felt almost unreal, sharp with the scent of dust and stone, but clean. We were only in the maze for a few hours but it felt definitely longerDenzel’s eyes found mine immediately. Not wide with panic, not desperate. Just steady, calculating. Even in relief, he carried the aura of someone who had endured something far worse than what I could imagine.Kendrix spoke first, voice sharp. “How… how the hell are you alive? We saw the exit seal. We saw you get left behind.”I let a small smile play at my lips, rubbing my neck tiredly. “I made a clone,” I said simply. “The Maze wanted someone to stay behind. I gave it one.”For a beat, none of them said anything. The idea seemed to settle like a heavy stone in the air. Then Calista’s jaw tightened, disbelief written across her face.“A… clone?” she said slowly, like she was tasting the word, trying to make sense of it.Denzel’s lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. “So… you can make clones now,” he said, voice

  • 178

    ~OmniscientLaurent paced. The Maze stretched around him, endless corridors twisting in impossible angles, but he barely noticed the walls. His mind buzzed, a hive of calculations and fears. The symbols burned into the stone—the ultimatums—had left their mark. Only three could leave. One must remain. Power could not be carried together.He had thought he understood the Maze, thought he could bend it, outsmart it. But now it felt alive, aware, patient. It didn’t punish recklessly. It tested, prodded, waited for weakness.Laurent stopped at a junction and pressed his palm against the polished floor. The stone hummed faintly beneath his fingers. He closed his eyes. Feel the flow. Listen to the rhythm. The Maze was breathing, moving, thinking.He counted in his head. Three exits. Three paths. Only three could pass. Only three.His jaw tightened. The others—Calista, Kendrix, Denzel—had to get out. He couldn’t let the Maze trap them. Not now. Not after everything.He turned sharply, pacing

  • 177

    ~VyrathThe throne room was a cage of shadow and gold. Candles lined the edges, their flames small, trembling against the chill in the air. The floor was stained, polished to reflect the despair of those who had been brought here before me.A rebel knelt in the center, hands bound, hooded, trembling. The executioner raised his blade, the steel gleaming coldly in the flickering light. Silence stretched like a taut wire.I watched. Calm. Observing how fear bent bodies, how it broke them before the steel even landed.The first swing descended.A sudden slam at the door stopped it mid-air.An arcanist, one of the humans that swore allegiance to me when they figured out no one was coming to save them.He came dashing in, robes torn, breathing ragged. His eyes were wild, desperation dragging him like a leash.“Your… Your Majesty! Laurent—he’s… he’s found his way into the Maze! He’s looking for Denzel!” The words tumbled out in a panic. “He’s coming—he’s coming for you!”I leaned back, resti

  • 176

    LaurentI woke to light.Not warm light.Not natural.It bled through the air in thin fractures, like something underneath reality was leaking through cracks it hadn’t sealed properly.Stone pressed against my back. Solid. Real. I exhaled, feeling the ache settle into my bones all at once. My body was still healing—slowly now, like it was tired of pretending nothing had happened.I pushed myself upright.This wasn’t the Maze corridor.The space was wide. Circular. An arena of sorts, though broken and unfinished, like it had been abandoned halfway through its own construction. Stone pillars ringed the edges, some collapsed, others cracked clean through the middle. The floor was scarred with deep gouges, old impact marks layered over newer ones.As if fights had happened here before.As if this place remembered them.I swallowed.Then I heard breathing.Sharp. Uneven.Too close.“Calista.”The name left my mouth before I realized I’d spoken.She was a few meters away, kneeling on one kn

  • 175

    ~LaurentI stopped talking.Not because I was out of breath.Not because I was scared.But because I finally understood something simple and ugly.Whether this was the real Denzel or not didn’t matter anymore.Hesitation was no longer mercy.It was suicide. I had underestimated him and if I didn't adjust, I'd be seriously injured.I shifted my stance.The air around me changed.Not violently. Not explosively.It just… tightened.Like the space itself had decided to pay attention.Denzel moved first.Of course he did.A gust of compressed wind detonated where I had been standing—but I wasn’t there anymore.Shadow Step.I reappeared to his right, palm driving toward his ribs.He turned with it.Too clean.Too ready.Our forearms collided instead, shock rippling outward. Stone cracked beneath our feet. The impact rattled up my bones and into my spine.I didn’t retreat.I stepped in.Again.My movements stopped being careful. Stopped being polite. I wove between his strikes, not dodging a

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