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176
Author: Samster_x
last update2025-12-16 16:19:54

Laurent

I 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
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  • 182

    ~LaurentThe barracks sat beyond the ash line, a cluster of shadows and broken stone, like a wound in the land. Even from here, I could feel the pulse of movement: monsters pacing, patrolling, sentries shifting with mechanical precision. Not human patterns. Cold. Efficient. Deadly.I crouched behind a ridge of scorched rock, surveying, mapping in my head. Denzel and Kendrix flanked me, silent. Calista lingered behind, tense.“Courier,” I whispered. A figure moved along a narrow path connecting two towers. One of Vyrath’s messengers, light on its feet, unaware it was being hunted.Denzel’s eyes narrowed. “Timing is critical.”I nodded. “We can’t risk being seen. Not yet.”I stepped into the shadows, feeling the stones hum underfoot. Every inch counted. I could hear Denzel’s restrained breath beside me, Kendrix’s silent awareness. We were a unit, but each of us carried different weights—fear, memory, experience.The courier passed close enough that I could see the thin metal strip dangl

  • 181

    ~LaurentThe word now hung in the air long after I said it.No one moved.That alone told me everything.Denzel was the first to recover. He straightened slowly, eyes narrowing—not in fear, not in anger, but calculation. The same look he wore before a storm broke. Kendrix stayed where he was, shoulders hunched, like he’d already started carrying the weight of whatever came next. Calista lingered a few steps back, arms folded too tightly, watching us the way someone watches a conversation spoken in a language they don’t understand.Good.She couldn’t understand this one.I turned away from the Maze’s sealed mouth and started walking. Not toward the city. Not toward safety. Just far enough that my thoughts could line up without the stone listening.Denzel fell into step beside me.“Where,” he asked quietly, “is the barracks.”I didn’t slow. “Eastern front. Beyond the ash line.”“That’s not an answer.”“It is if you know what that means.”He did. I saw it in the tightening of his jaw. “T

  • 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

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