1.8 The Lybrinth Takes Its First Breath

( Vera's Point Of View )

The primary rule of the labyrinth was stillness.

Not because it required it. But because itself absorbed the sound before it could be fully created.

Vera pressed a shaking hand against the cold stone wall, her fingers grazing the rough surface. The air surrounding her thickened—not with warmth, nor with chill, but with something entirely different. Something invisible. Something amiss.

The moment they had entered, everything transformed.

No breeze. No reverberations. No noise.

The lack of it was more frightening than any sound could be. Vera opened her mouth to say something, but no words emerged from her throat. It felt as if her voice had been entirely consumed. Even the faint sound of her boots against the floor had vanished. The others were near, yet they felt like distant silhouettes in a dream—present, yet unattainable.

Each inhale felt restricted, as if the labyrinth itself was breathing in tandem with her, pulling her deeper into its core. The walls loomed, heavy and ever-changing. It was challenging to determine if they were shifting or if the world around her was bending to its desires.

Then—the ground shifted.

An abrupt, unnatural wave swept beneath her feet, as if something had just exhaled beneath the stone. A chill raced up Vera's spine as she stumbled, her heart racing. The walls shook, expanding as if awakening from a long sleep.

And then—Raith screamed. The silence fractured. Vera turned towards him, her heartbeat thrumming in her ears. Raith's body shook, his fingers flailing towards his sword as arcs of blue energy sparked around him. His mouth opened in a frantic shout—

Then silence. The space where he had stood was void. Vera's stomach dropped.

"Raith? ! RAITH! "

She rushed forward, reaching out, but the shadows swallowed the spot he had occupied. Her fingers encountered only cold, unoccupied air.

He was gone.

A breath caught in her throat. Her gaze flicked to the others, but they were stationary. Liora's golden eyes flashed wildly, her chest heaving in rapid, uneven breaths. Keal's fingers twitched towards his dagger, though he hadn't unsheathed it yet. Even Soren, perpetually unreadable, had subtly adjusted his posture—tense, calculating.

An overwhelming silence enveloped them. It was suffocating. And then—The whispers started. Soft. Provocative. Encircling Vera's ears like silk, like icy fingers stroking her skin.

" He's already dead. "

" You let him go."

" You can't rescue him."

Vera's breath froze. No. That wasn't genuine. It wasn't. The voices weren't originating from anywhere. They were within her.

She pressed a hand over her ears, but it did nothing. The words permeated her mind, creeping through her thoughts like venom. The air constricted around her ribs, squeezing the breath away from her lungs.

"Raith is alive," she reassured herself, her voice a murmur in the darkness. "This is the labyrinth. It's trying to shatter us. "

Then—the walls shifted. Not a gradual movement. A violent, snapping jolt, reminiscent of a beast forcibly closing its jaws.

Vera recoiled just in time. An instant later, the black stone plummeted to the spot where she had been standing, fracturing the earth below. A violent shake reverberated through the entire maze.

Her heart raced within her chest, yet she scarcely had time to respond before the walls surged again.

"Shit," Keal gasped, pulling her back as another part of the labyrinth crashed down. "It's cutting us off! "

He was correct. The maze was not shifting randomly. It was isolating them.

Liora released a sharp breath, narrowly avoiding being trapped as a new wall fell between them, leaving her isolated on the opposite side.

"Wait—! " Too late. The maze creaked, rising higher, sealing her away. Only the faint glimmer of her golden power flickered from behind the stone before—Vanished.

One by one—they were being eliminated.

"You will be alone soon. "

"No one will be able to find you. "

"No one will remember you. "

Vera's hands trembled, the whispers wrapping around her mind, suffocating, unyielding.

She spun around, her heart racing, searching for Keal and Soren—but they were missing too.

A nauseating wave of fear twisted in her stomach.

She was alone. The whispers purred with satisfaction. A slow, shaky breath escaped Vera's lips. Panic would lead to her demise. She had to take action.

Clenching her teeth, Vera unsheathed her sword. The steel was firm in her grasp, providing her stability. She had no clue where Raith or the others were, but remaining stagnant meant death.

She stepped forward—And then—A shadow shifted. Vera froze. The maze was quiet. Still. But something was present. Something… observing.

"Vera. "

A chill ran down her spine.

She recognized that voice. All too well.

But it could not be.

"Vera. "

A figure emerged at the end of the corridor, the shadow extending abnormally long, reaching out toward her like the paw of a predator.

And Vera's heart nearly stopped.

It was Raith.

But something was amiss.

His blue eyes seemed vacant, hollow. His body was as still as death, like a puppet severed from its strings. His sword was drawn, but he wasn't wielding it for battle.

He was pressing it against his own throat.

Vera's breath caught.

Something within her instincts urged her to flee. But her legs would not move.

Then—Raith smiled. It wasn't his usual grin, filled with mischief or warmth. No, this smile was chillier. Empty.

And then he slashed.

Vera's heart faltered. The silence of the labyrinth returned, deeper this time, denser, as if the very walls were holding their breath.

Raith's body collapsed, the sword clattering to the ground with a dull thud.

But when Vera reached out, her fingers grazing the stone beneath her, she noticed him—no, it—stir.

It was no longer Raith, not in that moment. The form was too contorted, the eyes too devoid of life.

"You allowed him to leave," the whispers repeated once more, now with increased volume, more powerful, as if drawn by her terror. "Nobody will locate you. "

Vera's existence wavered between a dream and reality as the figure in front of her moved, unbalanced, prepared to devour all in its way.

The maze wasn't merely alive. It was hungry.

And Vera was its pray.

—END OF CHAPTER.