Chapter 19 – Echoes of the Labyrinth

The morning felt like glass.

Cold. Fragile. Ready to shatter.

They left before the sun rose, heading west in a different vehicle—an old black SUV that Calen had outfitted with signal blockers and reinforced doors. Lior stayed behind, still weak but lucid enough to help them decrypt part of the data.

What they learned chilled them.

The facility wasn't just a lab.

It was a maze.

Literally.

"Sector Labyrinth," Lior had called it, half-whispering. "They tested us there. Not just with combat. With fear."

Alek knew that name.

He had been inside it once.

And left someone behind.

The drive was silent.

Noah occasionally glanced over at Alek, who hadn't spoken in an hour.

He was staring out the window, jaw clenched, hands tight in his lap.

Calen finally broke the silence.

"You remember it, don't you?"

Alek didn't answer.

"I was there," he finally said. "Once. Years ago. I was fifteen."

"What did they do?" Noah asked.

Alek's eyes darkened. "They took four of us into the maze. Only I came out."

The complex was buried in the forest, camouflaged by synthetic moss and terrain-generators. From the air, it looked like a hill.

From the ground, it looked like a grave.

They parked a kilometer out and approached on foot. Noah carried a stun baton and a silenced pistol. Calen had his handheld decryptor and a thermal scanner. Alek carried nothing but a blade.

He didn't need more.

When they reached the gate, Calen crouched and plugged in his device.

"Hurry," Alek muttered.

"I'm going as fast as I can."

Click.

The steel door hissed open.

Darkness spilled out.

Noah turned on his headlamp.

They entered.

The corridors were tight and seamless—concrete walls reinforced with steel, illuminated by flickering lights embedded in the ceiling.

Cameras watched them silently.

But no alarms sounded.

"They're expecting someone," Calen whispered. "Not us."

They passed rooms labeled with single letters: "E," "T," "S."

Then they found the entrance to the maze.

A wide chamber with five doors.

One opened.

A breath of cold air rolled out.

Alek froze.

He remembered this smell.

Sterile. Damp. Mechanical.

And blood.

He stepped through first.

Then the doors slammed shut behind them.

The maze was alive.

Lights flickered overhead like heartbeat monitors.

The walls shifted—literally—rotating segments and adjusting paths when they moved.

"Shifting corridors," Calen muttered. "This isn't a building. It's a game."

"Where are the players?" Noah asked.

"They're watching."

Alek suddenly turned a corner—and stopped.

There was writing on the wall.

Etched by nails.

"We don't sleep. We obey. The Alpha watches."

His stomach twisted.

"I wrote that," he whispered.

Noah blinked. "What?"

"When I was trapped here. They isolated us. Took away sound. Light. Then gave us orders. Whoever didn't comply was punished. I resisted. At first."

A heavy silence fell.

Alek looked up.

"I wasn't the last. There was a boy—Riven. He was younger than me. He kept whispering stories about escaping. I promised I'd get us both out."

"…Did you?"

"No."

They moved deeper.

The corridors widened, ceilings higher.

In one room, they found restraints and dried blood on the walls.

Another had recordings—looped footage of children training, fighting, crying.

Then: a control room.

Calen plugged in immediately.

"This is a master console. Give me a minute—"

Suddenly, the speakers crackled.

And a voice filled the room.

"I was wondering when you'd come home."

Alek's blood ran cold.

He knew that voice.

Cold. Sharp. Female.

"Reva."

"Did you enjoy your vacation, Subject 017?"

Noah raised his weapon. "Where is she?"

"You're inside her creation," Reva said. "Every step you take is one I designed."

A pause.

"And Alek… you brought guests. Tsk. You never liked sharing."

Calen hissed. "She's watching through the maze. But she's not here. Remote access."

"Can you trace it?"

"Trying."

Reva kept speaking.

"Do you remember Riven?"

Alek froze.

"He never forgot you. Not even after the tests. He cried your name every day. Until he stopped crying."

A click.

Then a door ahead of them opened.

And someone stepped out.

It was him.

Older.

But unmistakable.

Alek's breath caught.

"Riven…"

The boy he abandoned was now a man.

Tall, lean, eyes glassy with blue light.

"Hello, Alek," he said softly.

"You left me."

Alek stepped forward. "I didn't know they kept you—"

"You said we'd escape. But you only saved yourself."

Noah raised his weapon. "Don't come closer—"

Riven's gaze didn't move.

"I just want to come home."

Then his fingers twitched.

The light in his eyes brightened.

And the room exploded into chaos.

He was fast—faster than Alek remembered.

Riven struck first—disarming Noah in a blink, slamming him against a wall.

Alek tackled him before he could hit again.

They rolled—fists flying, grunts echoing through the steel chamber.

"Why did you leave me?!" Riven roared.

"I didn't—"

"Liar!"

Alek hesitated for half a second—and Riven landed a blow to his temple.

The world tilted.

But Noah recovered—slamming the stun baton into Riven's back.

He screamed—body convulsing.

But didn't fall.

Didn't stop.

His hand closed around Alek's throat.

Then he whispered:

"You're still the Alpha."

Alek stared into those glowing eyes.

And something inside him clicked.

He whispered:

"Stand down."

Riven froze.

For one heartbeat.

Two.

Then he dropped to his knees.

Gasping.

Shaking.

And sobbing.

They left the maze with him.

Reva's voice returned, softer now.

"You can't save them all, Alek."

"I'll try."

"You were built to lead. Not love."

"I chose love."

Silence.

Then static.

Then nothing.

Back in the forest, under starlight, Riven slept in the back seat.

Noah turned to Alek.

"You okay?"

"No."

"Want to talk?"

"…Maybe tomorrow."

Calen drove in silence.

They had escaped.

But only barely.

And they knew it wasn't over.

Not even close.