The air was damp and heavy, pressing down on him like an invisible weight. Darkness stretched endlessly in every direction, broken only by the dim flicker of his lamp and the rhythmic sound of dripping water. It had been four days since Enel stepped into the maze, though the oppressive silence made time feel abstract. The only markers of its passage were the water drops echoing faintly through the cave and the steady pulses of the aether gem clutched tightly in his hand.
By the end of the first day, he'd learned to measure his survival by them. Fifty-four drops to a minute, and the gem pulsed every fifteen minutes—his lifelines, his crude clock in a world that shifted unpredictably. He pressed his back against the jagged stone wall, the map unfurled before him. Its edges were worn from his fingers, but the lines twisted mockingly with each maze shift. Enel studied it with unwavering focus, tracing a route to the western junction. His muscles ached, exhaustion tugged at him, but the faint growl echoing through the passage drove him forward, Survival demanded movement. Rest could wait.
The first day had felt like a trial of patience. Enel's steps had been cautious, his movements deliberate as he adjusted to the erratic nature of the maze. It shifted without warning, the tunnels twisting and reshaping themselves as though alive. The first time it happened, the ground shuddered slightly beneath his boots, and the walls rippled like liquid. The passage he'd been tracking vanished, leaving behind a new route he hadn't planned for.
He gripped his makeshift blade tighter as frustration bubbled in his chest. "Fifty-four drops… one minute. Five pulses since the last shift," he whispered to himself, the words more ritual than fact. Counting gave him purpose, kept him grounded amid the chaos.
The monster hadn't revealed itself yet, though Enel could feel its presence—a subtle vibration in the air, a pressure that sent chills down his spine. He moved quietly, keeping his steps light, his gaze flicking constantly between the shadows and the map. For hours, it was just him, the sound of water, and the ever-changing maze. But the silence wouldn't last.
By the second day, the monster made itself known. Enel had been crouched in the shadows of a narrow alcove, studying the map under the faint glow of his lamp. His altered perception flared briefly as his focus deepened, catching faint traces of energy in the maze's design—an unsettling reminder that the walls were more than just stone. Then he heard it: the low, guttural growl reverberating through the tunnels like distant thunder. He froze, his breath caught in his throat.
The sound grew louder, accompanied by the rhythmic thud of heavy footsteps. Activating his perception, Enel strained his senses until he could see it—a faint shimmer of aether trailing through the tunnel ahead. The creature's size was monstrous, its outline distorted and blurred in the darkness, but its presence was undeniable.
He pressed himself harder against the wall, his muscles tense, his heart pounding in his chest. The beast lumbered past his hiding spot, close enough that its low growl sent vibrations through the stone. Enel held his breath, willing his body to remain still as the creature sniffed the air. He clenched the hilt of his blade, sweat trickling down his face. It lingered for a moment, then moved on, disappearing into the twisting tunnels.
Enel didn't move until long after the sound of its footsteps had faded. He exhaled shakily, his hands trembling as he wiped his damp forehead. "It's hunting me," he murmured. For the first time since entering the maze, fear gripped him—not of the shifting walls, but of the relentless predator stalking the same paths.
The third day pushed him to his limits. His legs burned with exhaustion, his throat was dry, and the stale rations in his pack felt like mockery rather than sustenance. Sleep came in brief, shallow intervals, his body unable to fully relax as he lay against cold stone. Each time his eyes closed, the growl of the beast or the rumble of the maze startled him awake, leaving him more exhausted than before.
It was during one of these stolen moments of rest that the hallucinations began. The whispers were faint at first, indistinct and haunting, like voices carried on the wind. Enel rubbed his temple, shaking his head as he pressed himself against the wall of a narrow passage. "Not real," he muttered, his voice shaking. "Focus, Enel. Focus."
He unfolded the map with trembling fingers, his vision blurring as he tried to trace the lines. The maze shifted again, and the markings twisted with it, creating shapes that defied logic. Panic clawed at his chest, but he forced it down, focusing instead on the sound of water dripping steadily in the distance. "Fifty-four drops. One minute," he whispered, grounding himself in the rhythm. It wasn't enough to calm him completely, but it gave him clarity—a precious tool in this endless nightmare
The fourth day felt like eternity. His body screamed for rest, but his mind remained sharp, cutting through the fog of exhaustion with relentless determination. The water drops and gem pulses had become his anchor, their steady rhythms guiding him as he navigated the maze's cruel twists and turns.
It was then, in the quiet moments between shifts, that Enel began to understand. The maze wasn't random. The shifts weren't chaos. They followed a pattern—subtle, almost imperceptible, but there. As he crouched at the entrance to a wide junction, tracing the lines on the map, realization struck him like a lightning bolt. "It's not chaos," he whispered, his voice filled with newfound determination. "It's a game. Or rather some perverse semblance of one" then another realization dawned on him "its sentient and possess some form of consciousness" he chuckled nervously "its playing with its food"
The growl of the beast echoed again, closer this time removing him from his thoughts. Enel activated his altered perception, catching the faint shimmer of its trail moving steadily toward the western passage. He adjusted his grip on the blade, his gaze darting between the map and the tunnel ahead. The gem pulsed faintly in his hand, marking the seventh interval since the last shift. He didn't have much time.
Forcing his tired legs into motion, Enel stepped into the passage, his heart pounding but his mind clear. He was close. He could feel it
The silence pressed on Enel like a tangible weight. He had grown used to the muted drip of water echoing through the maze, each drop predictable and oddly soothing, but now the air felt ominously still. Something about this part of the cave felt different. Even as exhaustion gnawed at him, he couldn't shake the crawling sensation prickling at the back of his neck.
The aether gem in his hand pulsed faintly, its glow casting fleeting shadows against the walls. Enel tightened his grip around it, silently counting. **Three pulses since the last shift.** He did the math quickly, relying on instinct more than clarity. That meant it had been forty-five minutes. "Fifteen minutes left," he muttered. His voice felt foreign to him, hoarse and cracked from days of silence and thirst.
He pressed his back against the rough wall, trying to steady his trembling hands. His head throbbed relentlessly, a deep, dull ache that blurred his thoughts. The fifth day in this maze—it almost didn't feel real anymore. The days and nights had blurred into a relentless march of dripping water, shifting stone, and the ever-looming presence of the beast. A faint chuckle escaped his lips, dry and bitter. "Five days… It's a miracle I'm still alive."
But miracles weren't what kept him going. He knew that. It was stubbornness—a refusal to die here in this wretched, twisting labyrinth
The first day in the maze had been disorienting, but manageable. Enel had started by taking careful steps, learning quickly to count the sound of dripping water—fifty-four drops made a minute. At first, the shifts seemed sporadic, their timing impossible to predict. But when he noticed the faint pulse of the gem in his hand, like a beating heart in the emptiness, he started to piece together a rhythm. Every fifteen minutes, the gem glowed faintly for a brief moment. He used it to mark time, linking the shifts of the maze to the measured passing of those pulses.
By the end of the second day, though, the maze was no longer his only concern. That was when he first heard the beast.
The growl had echoed through the tunnels like distant thunder, rumbling low and deep. Enel froze where he stood, his breath catching in his chest. He activated his altered perception instinctively, the strain like a hot needle against his skull. The faint shimmer of aether glowed in his vision, tracing the movements of something massive in the distance. He hadn't seen it clearly yet, but the sheer size of its outline sent his stomach twisting.
Now, on the fifth day, the growls no longer startled him, though they still sent shivers down his spine. The beast was always close. It was hunting him. And the worst part? He could swear it was getting smarter.
Enel unfolded the map with trembling fingers, his eyes darting over the shifting lines that refused to stay in place. He'd studied it so many times over the past few days that parts of it were etched into his memory, yet the constant changes still frustrated him. He traced his route with the tip of his blade, trying to predict the safest path. "The western junction," he murmured, speaking just to hear a voice. His own voice, though hoarse and weak, was a reminder that he was still here.
This maze wasn't trying to kill him at least not yet, he was almost certain of that now. It was testing him. He could feel it in the way the paths shifted just as he started to understand them, as though it was daring him to keep up. That realization gave him something to cling to, even as the whispers in the back of his mind began to grow louder.
"You're losing it," he said to himself with a bitter laugh. The sound startled him, echoing too loudly in the silence. He flinched as a shadow moved in his peripheral vision, raising the blade instinctively. Nothing. He let out a shaky breath. "Not real," he murmured, forcing himself to focus. "Get a grip, Enel."
The growl came before he was ready. A low, rumbling sound that vibrated through the stone and sent a jolt of adrenaline racing through his veins. Enel froze, his altered perception flaring to life even before he realized what he was doing. Pain shot through his temples as the faint shimmer of the beast's aether appeared ahead of him, moving closer. Too close.
"Damn it," he hissed through gritted teeth. He folded the map hurriedly, shoving it into his pack, and pressed himself into a shallow alcove in the wall. The jagged stone dug into his back, but he didn't dare move. His muscles screamed in protest as he stayed perfectly still, clutching the blade so tightly his knuckles turned white.
The beast lumbered into view, its monstrous silhouette blocking out the faint light of his lamp. Enel's chest tightened, his breath shallow as he counted in his head, trying to calm the hammering of his heart. Fifty-four drops. One minute. He stayed frozen, watching as the creature sniffed the air. For one agonizing moment, it turned its massive head toward him. His entire body tensed, every instinct screaming at him to run.
It didn't see him. With a low growl, the beast moved on, its footsteps fading into the depths of the maze.
Enel let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, his body trembling as the adrenaline slowly drained away. He slumped forward, his blade slipping from his grip and clattering against the ground. For a moment, he stayed there, his head resting on his knees as he tried to steady himself. "Too close," he whispered shakily. "Way too close."
There was no rest to be had, not here. The gem pulsed faintly in his palm, a cruel reminder that time was running out. Enel wiped the sweat from his brow, smearing dirt and grime across his face as he pushed himself back to his feet. His legs wobbled under him, but he forced them to move. "Keep going," he muttered. "You stop, you die."
The sound of water dripping grew louder as he approached the western junction, its rhythm constant and unchanging. He clung to it like a lifeline, each drop grounding him in reality as the whispers threatened to creep back into his mind. His thoughts felt sluggish now, his exhaustion making everything blur together. Even the growls, faint and distant, failed to stir the same sharp fear they had before. He was too tired to feel fear.
When he reached the junction, he collapsed to his knees, his body shaking uncontrollably. His blade slipped from his fingers again, landing with a dull clang. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the cool stone as he tried to catch his breath. The gem pulsed once more in his hand, its faint light flickering.
One pulse left. Fifteen minutes.
"Cutting it close," he muttered with a weak chuckle. His voice sounded distant, even to himself.
Enel pushed himself to his feet, his legs screaming in protest. He bent to retrieve the blade, his gaze fixed on the tunnel ahead. The darkness was as uninviting as ever, but there was no turning back now. "Almost there," he whispered, his words soft but determined. "Almost there."
The maze wasn't done with him yet, but neither was he.