I count six in total—five strangers, one me. Borzen Kain, I recognize immediately. He’s even more terrifying in person, all chrome limbs and dead eyes. Next to him is Dravven Sol, casually flipping a coin that hisses when it spins—probably razor-edged. Allov kneels in a corner, muttering something in a language that makes the hairs on my neck rise.
Two other figures square off like they’re seconds from trying to kill each other. I bet they’ll succeed.
Behind them, ten civilians huddle like prey animals. One starts crying. Another throws up.
A screen crackles to life on the far wall. Cartoonish animation explodes onto the display—a grinning avatar with Dirk Husker’s face, only exaggerated. Big teeth. Sparkly eyes. Like a Saturday morning serial villain.
“Hellooooo, players!” he cackles. “Welcome toMonstrous Mazes: The Ultimate Survival Experience!Featuring: YOU!”
I lurch to my feet. “What the actual f?—"
“Language,” the screen scolds.
“This is a kidnapping,” I snap.
“This isbranding,” Dirk corrects, practically vibrating with glee. “Real stakes! Real pain! Real consequences! Permadeath mode is now live. Last one standing gets the prize! And maybe, if you’re lucky, your freedom.”
Borzen roars. Someone slams against the wall. The civilians start screaming.
Me? I just stand there.
Because I know my game.
Ibuiltthis maze.
But I never designed a way out.
CHAPTER 2
GYON
Icome with blood in my mouth and fury in my bones.
My body feels wrong. The air’s too clean, too thin, like it’s been scrubbed sterile of anything natural. I taste metal and ozone, and when I shift, something in my ribs grinds like shattered glass. My first breath comes out a snarl, and the sound echoes off the walls—metal walls. Not a ship. Not a cell. Something in between.
Where am I?
I force my eyes open. White light burns them raw. The corridor around me hums with power, veins of blue energy pulsing under the surface like arteries in skin. The architecture isn’t human—too symmetrical, too smug. Every corner smells like manufactured air and old death.
When I move, pain answers. My armor’s in tatters, plates scorched and fused to my shoulder. The wound in my chest sears with every breath, but pain means I’m alive. Pain means I’m still dangerous. I pull myself upright, and my claws scrape the wall, leaving gouges like claw marks on bone. My vision clears enough to see the faint red tint coating my fingers.
My last memory claws its way forward: a raid, the flash of a pulse round, the stink of burning flesh, then blackness. Thefreighter we boarded—was it a trap? It must’ve been. But this place… no freighter’s big enough for corridors like this.
Something about it hums beneath my skin. Patterned. Designed.
Then a voice slithers out of the ceiling, all smug charm and mockery wrapped in static. “Good morning, Reaper!” it croons. “You’re awake! Wonderful! I was worried you’d stayed dead for good.”
I freeze. My lip curls.
A projection flickers to life ahead of me—a man’s face, but wrong. Overly bright teeth. Cartoon eyes. A mask pretending to be human. “Name’s Dirk Husker,” he says, cheerful as poison. “And you, my sharp-toothed friend, are special content! You’re our little wildcard. Our difficulty spice!”
He claps. The sound is hollow and perfect.
I snarl low, the growl rumbling in my chest. “You’ll regret speaking to me.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it!” Dirk chirps. “But not yet. We’ve got rules, you see. It’s a game!Monstrous Mazes.Heard of it? Of course not—no time for games while you’re hunting and killing, ha! But don’t worry, you’ll learn fast.”
He gestures, and a grid unfurls in midair, displaying a 3D labyrinth that shifts as I look at it. Corridors crawl and rotate like mechanical worms. Rooms open and close. The whole placebreathes.“Your objective is simple: survive. Hunt if you like, kill if you must, but do try to play along. Cameras are live! The audience is watching!”
