Only seconds left.
I blossom into the chamber, roaring like an avalanche.
She whips around. Our eyes lock.
But Dravven slams his hand onto the terminal.
The doors—iron cantilevers—growl shut behind Liora.
She spins. Reaches. The seal clangs.
She’s inside. Again.
The heat of betrayal burns me. The Maze pulses with glee.
I pound the sealed doors with my fists.
“Let her out!”
Dravven steps back, weapon raised. His eyes flick to me. Pain, fear, resolve—all tangled there.
Liora presses her forehead against the panel. Tears in her eyes.
I dig claws into the wall beside me, fracturing metal. Sparks rain. The wall gives way little by little. The Maze fights me. Panels shift, realign. Guards, drones activate.
I roar again, strike harder. The wall blisters, cracks.
Between me and her: steel, shock fields, labyrinthinal cruelty.
I tear a hand through the wall, reach her, feel the heat, the barrier.
She presses her palm to the cold glass. Our fingers mirror each other.
I scream—“Liora!”—and the wall fractures in a jagged seam.
Metal rips apart. The door groans. The chamber trembles.
She’s inside. I’m out here.
We’re closer than ever—but closer still than the maze wants us to be.
I pull back, chest heaving. The Maze roars. The corridors tremble.
I will break this barrier. I will.
Because she’s not trapped forever.
And I am not powerless.
CHAPTER 17
LIORA
My lungs are empty, my pulse hammering so hard I wonder if I’ll crack a rib just from the impact. The sealed chamber is too tight. Air smells stale, metallic. My compad glows weakly—its only light, and I cling to it like a lifeline.
The door behind me is sealed tight. No vents open. No failsafes visible. I pound on the wall. Nothing. My fists sting. My thoughts spin.
Then the lights flicker—violet. The corridor shifts color into an unmapped zone, the kind of shader the Maze uses when it’s scrambling geometry. The walls pulse, purple veins. The hum deepens.
