The viewport splatters red. I wipe it away with my forearm. Behind it, a second civilian is sobbing. “No, no, no, no…”
“Round two,” Dirk coos.
This isn’t a game. It’s war. And war means I fight back.
Even if the enemy is made of walls.
Especially then.
I move through the corridors like blood through a vein—quiet, pressurized, inevitable. My skin still buzzes from earlier shocks, the charge residue settling deep in my bones. Dirk’s Maze Master hums and jeers from different vents, taunting me with nicknames and kill counts.
“Crowd favorite,” he calls me now.
Like I’m some gladiator fighting for applause instead of survival.
Like I asked for this.
I punch the next camera I see, shattering the lens. Sparks spit into the air.
Another trap opens up ahead—floor section gliding aside to reveal spinning fans beneath. I don’t hesitate. I climb the wall, claws gripping the textured plating, and haul myself into the duct above.
The maze tries to kill me. Fine.
But now I’m learning its rhythm.
There are blind spots.
Places the cameras don’t cover. I find one near a corner junction where three corridors merge. A vent shaft to the right has just enough room for my shoulders. I wedge in, crawl five meters, and drop into a utility maintenance node. It smells like hot dust and stale coolant.
But there’s no Maze Master voice here.
No drones.
Just stillness.
For two minutes, I breathe.
That’s when I hear it.
A voice. Hers.
Not live—recorded. Playing from a wall speaker somewhere above, looping on a delay.
“I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. But we’ve got each other, okay? I won’t leave you.”
She’s speaking to a civilian.
A child, maybe. Or someone too broken to speak back. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.
What matters is the sound of her voice. The way it holds. The tremor beneath the calm. Themercy.
It doesn’t belong here.
It doesn’t belonganywherenear me.
But I want to wrap it around my neck like armor.
I break open a maintenance panel and scavenge the schematic chip. It’s fragmentary—only two percent of the maze structure. But it’s enough.
