“Well, fuck me.”

Jason grumbled as they arrived at the room before their end goal. Easton was pretty much bored as they traveled through the labyrinth, but now finally something interesting happened. Actually two things since a familiar face was there right in front of a red pyramid room, thinking like his life was completely dependent on philosophy, instead of survival. Weston was contemplating what to do when he spotted his brother. The two immediately started catching up on what the other was doing, now with the twins finally reunited.

“Don't be such a pain, Heartwood. You reunited us!”, Easton gave a toothfull grin as he put an arm over his shoulders, “You should feel proud actually.”

“Who is this?”, Weston asked as he finally noticed Jason there.

“Just an lucky idiot who got to cross paths with me.”

“And almost die a bunch of times.”, Jason added, not as happy as Easton was.

“Is he trustworthy?”, The second twin asked, rather impatient so.

“Well, he saved my ass a few times, so I'd say he is useful.”, He nodded at himself.

“It's not that hard to save your ass. You get into trouble on purpose.”

“Tell me about it.”, The Jqorn sighed.

Of course he'd cross with all the most dangerous people in this place. Why wouldn't he? The fact that he is alive right now is honestly amazing, given that he is encountering every trap, puzzle and maniac this place has to offer.

“Don't need to. Your face shows your suffering.”, Weston sighed too, “Anyway, you going to this room or nah?”

“According to our prideful guide…”, Easton said as he looked at the room.

“I am not prideful.”

“...the room after this one is supposed to be either a winnable puzzle that can grant us passage to the next Game or the center of the maze altogether.”

“So you found something that can lead us there?”

“More or less?”, Jason grimaced slightly, not sure how to put it together, “I theorized that the color the pyramids on the wall have mean the difficulty of the room, while the direction they point is… the direction where the puzzle or encounter is. If the mark is new, then it's a new part of the labyrinth, and vice versa.”

“That makes some sense, in a twisted—.”

“Colosseum way? Yeah I already did that joke.”, Easton snickered, amused at the joke attempt.

Weston just glares at him, “And just before the room there is a red pyramid. I assume this is a bad thing, am I right?”

“Yep.”

“Fuck me then.”, He said in frustration, “Isn't there any other way around?”

Jason shook his head, “No. As far as I've seen, this room is the only one connected at the supposed center of the maze.”

“Then there is not much arguing, is it?”, Easton asked as he stepped forward to enter the room, “Better not keep them waiting.”

“Who are you talking about? The audience?”, The Jqorn said, confused.

“The overseers? Man, tou aren't the brightest star in the sky, huh?”

“Said the guy who was saved by said un-bright star.”

“Enough!”, Weston demanded, his voice irritated with the back and forth, “If that's the only option, then we take it.”

Easton shook his head as the grin never left his mouth, “Whatever turns you on, brother.”

“Ugh.”, That was all Jason could say.

They entered the room, and found rather pleasing that instead of it being a barely lit room, a cave hole or anything resembling ruins, it was a nice room with marble as ground and chandeliers filled with light, giving a noble and sophisticated atmosphere. They couldn't help but feel a sense of change and relief (Jason more than anyone) as the room didn't seem to appear to have any obvious traps or enemies ready to attack at the slightest movement. There was only an altar, very similar to the one Jason first encountered, but this time instead of a token, there was something else.

A statue.

“That's… new.”, Weston said as he poked the statue.

“That's it? Did I get excited for a fucking statue?”

“Wait.”, Jason called as he inspected the thing, “There is a… coin hole?”

Indeed, a coin hole was there to put whatever it needed in. The statue that resembled a cat facing down as it looked at the hole with a mysterious yet tentative gaze.

“That doesn't really help at all.”, The twins said in unison.

“Answer thou the riddle, and thou mayst pass.”

The voice came from the statue, and even the twins can tell that it sent a shiver on their spines.

“Holy fuck!”, Jason said as he yelped back, getting away from the statue.

“The hell?!”, Weston said as his guard was immediately raised.

“Huh.”, Easton was obviously curious about the cat statue.

There was a momentary silence.

Then Jason stepped up, “What's the riddle?”

“Thou givest me aught, then I vanish. What am I, and what dost thou require of me to do so?”

The room fell into an awkward silence, the trio all staring at the cat statue, which remained perfectly still after delivering its cryptic question. Jason rubbed the back of his neck, thinking through the riddle. Easton, of course, looked far too entertained by the whole situation, while Weston seemed more annoyed than anything.

“Thou givest me aught, then I vanish,” Jason repeated, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of it.

“So we give it something, and it disappears?” Easton offered with a shrug. “Could be something like a payment or a sacrifice?”

Jason shook his head. “No, that’s too obvious. It’s not about what you give—it’s about what happens after you give it.”

Weston crossed his arms, studying the statue. “And it vanishes. But what vanishes when you give it something?”

Jason felt like he was on the edge of figuring it out, but the pressure of the moment was making it harder to focus. He glanced down at the coin slot in the statue. It had to be something simple, something you wouldn’t normally think about.

Then, it hit him.

“Light,” Jason blurted out, his voice gaining confidence. “It’s light. If you give it something—like blocking it out—it vanishes.”

Weston raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Jason nodded. “Think about it. You give light to darkness, and it disappears. The statue’s asking for something to cover the light.”

Easton tilted his head, intrigued. “So… what do we put in?”

Jason glanced around, looking for anything they could use. He wasn’t entirely sure if his answer was correct, but it felt right. There was a certain logic to it.

“The coin slot,” Jason muttered. “It’s asking for something. Something symbolic—like a token… that blue token perhaps?”

“This thing?”, Easton grabbed the blue token from his pocket, “Almost forgot about this.”

“Well, try putting it in.”, Weston pointed out at the coin slot.

“That's what she said.”, The twin laughed.

“Really?”

“Oh fine.” He said, but muttered something under his breath, “Fucking buzz kill.”

He put the token on the slot in one moment, then was gone the next.

“What?”, Weston panicked, “Where is he?!”

“One hath passed the first Game, yet two remain. Answer thou the riddle, and thou mayst pass.”, The cat statue said, in the same stone and calculated tone.

“Wait, that wasn't the answer?”, Jason asked in disbelief.

The realization hit Jason. The token wasn’t the answer—it was just a means of moving one of them ahead. Now they were stuck with the riddle still unanswered, and Easton, of course, had vanished into the supposed center of the labyrinth.

Weston’s hands clenched into fists, his eyes darting from the statue to Jason. “You better figure this out fast, Heartwood. I’m not in the mood to get split up again, and I don’t trust wherever my brother just went.”

Jason swallowed hard, nodding quickly. He turned back to the riddle, repeating it in his mind. Thou givest me aught, then I vanish. His first guess, light, didn’t seem to be entirely wrong—but the token didn’t trigger the right solution. There had to be something more.

"Maybe it’s not literal light,” Jason said, thinking aloud. “It could be something… intangible. Something we can’t touch, but give away.”

Weston narrowed his eyes. “Like what?”

Jason’s thoughts raced. What vanishes when you give it away? It had to be something abstract, something that disappeared the moment it was given. And then, in a flash, the answer came to him.

“Silence,” Jason whispered. “It’s silence.”

Weston blinked, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Think about it! When you give silence away—by speaking—it vanishes. Silence disappears the moment you break it.”

Weston didn’t seem entirely convinced, but Jason was certain this time. He stepped up to the statue and, without hesitation, spoke clearly:

“The answer is silence.”

As of irony hit the statue, silence was the only answer it gave.

“Fuck this!”, Weston shouted angrily, “We need to give something so it vanishes?! That can be anything! A lot of things serve the purpose of making another thing disappear!”

“There is yet another way to proceed; blood must needs be given.”

"Oh, great," Jason muttered, throwing his hands up. "Of course. It's always blood.”

Weston immediately took out his knife, “Good. That means I can deal with it quick.”

He lundged at Jason, piercing his flesh almost hitting his neck, but striking his shoulder instead as blood dropped from it. It was clear he wasn't taking just blood, but taking Jason's life. He pushed the remaining twin out of reflex, but Weston didn't bulge, rather he was even more angry now that his supposed victim was resisting. The statue asked for blood, obviously it meant a sacrifice, one that the twin was more than happy to oblige.

That didn't mean Jason wanted to comply though.

“Fuck off!”, He said as he finally pushed the man with his legs, putting some distance between them.

The problem was that the knife also left his shoulder, making him bleed all over the place. Weston seemed unbothered by it, since his object was merely postponed. The cat statue watched, uncaring yet intrigued all the same as both understood the implications of what they needed to to. With, of course, the exception that Jason wanted to escape this place by surviving the two hours needed instead of completing this stupid puzzle, riddle or whatever it is. He can't think straight anymore thanks to this asshole.

“I am in a rush, Heartwood. It would be more productive if you just died here.”, Weston said as he pointed his knife.

“Fuck. You.”, Jason said as he unsheathed his long sword, only to notice he can't properly hold it, not only because it's weight, but also his wound in his shoulder.

Jason’s grip faltered as blood trickled from his shoulder, staining his shirt and making it harder to hold his sword steady. Weston advanced, a dark gleam in his eyes. The knife gleamed under the chandelier’s light, and it was clear he wasn’t planning on letting this go easy.

“You really think you can win this, bleeding out like that?” Weston sneered, his steps slow and deliberate. "Just give up, and I promise it'll be quick."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Jason's heart pounded in his chest. The room seemed to blur as pain clouded his thoughts, but he wasn’t about to give Weston the satisfaction. His breath was labored, but he tightened his grip on the sword, adrenaline giving him a brief surge of strength.

"Quick isn't in my plan," Jason growled, keeping his stance as steady as he could.

“Then you’re just dragging out the inevitable,” Weston replied coldly, lunging forward with the knife.

Jason barely had time to react, swinging his sword to parry the strike. The clang of metal echoed in the room, but the force of Weston’s attack sent a shockwave of pain through his injured shoulder. He gritted his teeth, refusing to scream as he staggered back.

Weston smirked. “You’re already half-dead, Heartwood. Just let it happen.”

Jason gritted his teeth. He wouldn't give up now! He looked at the room, it wasn't sealed like when he met Easton! He could flee! Escape this madness! Better get out before this gets any worse! The statue asked for blood and it didn't seem like a few drops would satisfy the thing, so he could only escape.

Jason threw his sword at Weston, not even bothering to aim properly-he just needed the distraction. As the blade clattered against the ground near Weston's feet, Jason spun on his heel and bolted toward the door. His shoulder burned with every movement, blood soaking through his shirt, but adrenaline was doing its job, dulling the worst of the pain.

"Running? Really?" Weston's voice echoed behind him, cold and mocking. "Coward.”

Jason didn't care. Screw honor, screw whatever weird blood ritual the statue wanted-survival was the only thing that mattered now. He sprinted across the marble floor, his boots slipping slightly as he made for the exit. He could hear Weston's footsteps behind him, not rushing, just... stalking.

"Keep running, Heartwood! You won't make it far!" Weston's voice taunted, too close for comfort.

Jason could feel the room spinning, his vision blurring from the blood loss. His legs were getting heavy, but the door was right there, so close. If he could just make it through—

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his leg. He stumbled forward and crashed to the ground, sliding across the marble floor. Jason barely had time to register what happened before he looked down and saw a knife sticking out of his calf. Weston's knife.

"Goddammit," Jason muttered under his breath, trying to crawl toward the door, but his body wasn't cooperating. The blood loss, the pain-it was all catching up to him too fast.

He heard Weston's footsteps slow to a stop behind him. "You thought you could just run?" Weston's voice was dripping with amusement. "Pathetic."

Jason gritted his teeth, forcing himself onto his knees. "You—” he wheezed, breath ragged, "you're really gonna kill me over some puzzle?”

“Yes, of course.”, He answered simply, “Why do your think my brother and I are here in the first game?”

Jason could could only cough blood, “Fucking criminals…”

Weston calmly walked over to Jqorn who was still on the ground, the long sword of before now in his hands, “Any last words?”

“I am sorry, Trista.”, He whispered softly, almost lovingly.

Weston held the sword up, taking his time to get used to the weight, and swung it downwards—

*CRUNCH*

A man appeared, punching the face out of the Twin with all his strength, even sending him flying across the room, sword falling on the ground making cracking sounds as it slid from one side to the other.

“Nice place.”, The Wood Elf commented offhandedly.

He was tall. Very tall. Despite his slim frame he was jacked, but his muscles aren't for show, they have purpose behind them. His hair was long enough to pass his shoulders, a soft small beard acompaning in his chin. He looked sweaty, probably from the whole ordeal of the labyrinth, but he was… fine. Not breathless or anything.

Jason blinked in disbelief, barely processing what just happened. One second, Weston had been about to cleave him in half, and the next, the guy was flying across the room like a ragdoll. He coughed, spitting blood, and looked up to see the Wood Elf standing there casually, like he hadn’t just saved his life with a single punch.

"Who the hell—" Jason started, struggling to push himself up again.

The Wood Elf, still relaxed, gave him a quick glance. “It's me, Connor.”, He said as if that proved anything.

anything.

"Who?"

Connor looked at him, then shrugged, "Doesn't matter. We don't know each other. But I saw that guy trying to kill you and I swooped in.”

“Thanks, I guess?”, Jason said as he tried and failed to get up.

“Better rest for now. That guy is still awake.”

At the comment, Jason saw that Weston was fuming with rage, ready to finish this with the most brutal methods possible.

“You! I'm gonna fucking kill you!”

“Why do I feel like Easton was the better sibling?”, The Jqorn said with nervousness filling his voice.

“Alright.”, Connor said, taking his stance, “Let's box.”

Weston charged, his sword gleaming in the dim light as his rage fueled every step. Connor stood his ground, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp.

"You're seriously gonna fight a guy with a sword?" Jason wheezed from the ground, still trying to process how this elf had appeared out of nowhere.

Connor didn't even glance his way, his focus entirely on Weston. "Swords are just metal sticks if you know how to move," he said, cracking his neck. “Besides, I could use a workout.”

Weston swung his blade in a vicious arc, aiming straight for Connor's head. But Connor moved like water—smooth, effortless—ducking under the swing at the last possible second. Weston's momentum carried him forward, and before he could recover, Connor landed a solid jab to his ribs.

*THUD*

Weston grunted, staggering but still on his feet. He turned, fury flashing in his eyes as he gripped the sword tighter. "I'll gut you!" he spat, charging again.

This time, Weston feinted, faking a high slash before sweeping low, aiming for Connor's legs. But the elf was quicker. He sidestepped, one foot pivoting behind him as he spun out of range, then lashed out with a sharp kick to Weston's knee.

*CRACK*

Jason almost heard something that the Wood Elf said, but his face showed… disappointment?

Weston cried out, stumbling as his leg buckled for a moment. "You cocky bastard!" he growled, swinging again, this time with a wide horizontal slash meant to catch Connor off-guard.

Connor leaned back, the blade just missing his chest, before stepping in and landing two rapid punches-one to Weston's jaw, and the other to his gut. The force sent Weston reeling backward, but the twin wasn't about to back down.

Weston snarled, gripping his sword with both hands now, and charged forward with a wild thrust. Connor twisted his body, narrowly dodging the blade, and grabbed Weston's wrist. With a swift twist and a fluid movement, Connor wrenched the sword from Weston's grasp, sending it clattering to the floor.

Jason, watching from the ground, blinked. "Okay... didn't expect that."

But Weston wasn't finished. Snarling like a wild animal, he threw a punch, aiming straight for Connor's face. This time, Connor didn't dodge. He blocked the punch with his forearm, the impact barely making him flinch, then retaliated with a brutal uppercut that sent Weston stumbling back several feet.

"You're tough, I'll give you that," Connor said, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. "But you suck at this.”

"Shut the fuck up!" Weston roared, throwing a wild, desperate punch.

Connor swatted it away like it was nothing, before grabbing Weston by the collar and slamming a knee into his stomach. Weston gasped, the wind knocked out of him, but before he could even catch his breath, Connor twisted and threw him to the ground with a resounding thud.

Weston groaned, but he wasn't done. He scrambled to his feet, eyes blazing with fury, and lunged again, fists flying. Connor dodged the flurry of blows effortlessly, his movements precise and calculated. He waited for an opening-and when Weston overextended, he took it.

With lightning speed, Connor delivered a devastating combination—two punches to Weston's ribs, a knee to his gut, and a spinning elbow to the side of his head. The twin's body crumpled under the assault, and he collapsed to the ground, dazed and barely conscious.

Connor muttered something again. This time his face showed something more than disappointment, but Jason wasn't sure what.

Connor stood over him, breathing a little heavier now, but still looking as relaxed as ever. "Stay down," he said calmly, though there was an edge of warning in his voice.

Weston groaned, trying to push himself up, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He was spent, completely beaten.

Jason, still on the floor, stared in disbelief. "That... was insane. And so cool.”

Connor glanced at him, a faint smirk on his lips. "Told you. Swords are just metal sticks."

"Yeah, remind me not to piss you off," Jason muttered as he finally managed to sit up, wincing from the pain in his shoulder. "So... now what?”

“First, don't thank me.”

“What? Why?”

“What if I wanted the same or worse as him?”

They both stared at the twin.

“Fair point.”

“Well,” the Wood Elf said as he got closer to the statue, inspecting it with a casual curiosity. “This looks like a glorified paperweight now that the tough guy is out of the picture.”

Jason pushed himself to his feet, feeling a bit steadier now. “It was asking riddles before. We were trying to solve one about blood and silence. Guess that part’s done.” He glanced at the cat statue, feeling a strange mix of caution and intrigue. “But it doesn’t look like it’s finished with us yet.”

Connor stepped around the statue, peering at its intricate features. “Blood? That hardly sounds necessary.”

“Right?” Jason replied, shaking his head. “The first one was about silence—something about giving and it vanishing.” He took a breath, trying to shake off the remnants of pain. “But the second one—Weston just wanted to spill blood. Guess that didn’t work out so well for him.”

“What exactly did the statue say?”, He asked, now switching from staring at the statue to Jason.

“Thou givest me aught, then I vanish. I still don't know what it means.”

“So it's basically asking about something that you give to something else, then it disappears.”, Connor nodded to himself, “Well, that's… simple, I guess.”

“Simple? Are you kidding me?” Jason retorted, a mix of frustration and disbelief bubbling up. “It sounds like the setup for a twisted game.”

Connor shrugged, unfazed. “Yeah, but isn’t that what this whole place is about? It’s a puzzle. We just need to think outside the box.”

“Right, well, it’s not like we have a manual for this sort of thing,” Jason shot back, rubbing his shoulder where Weston had wounded him. “It’s all guesswork at this point.”

“Okay, let’s break it down,” Connor suggested, pacing a bit. “If it’s about giving something that vanishes, we need to think metaphorically. What do you give that could disappear?”

“Words?” Jason offered hesitantly. “When you speak, silence goes away.”

“Nice one,” Connor replied, nodding. “But that might not be enough. The statue specifically mentioned ‘aught’—that implies something of value or something more abstract. We need to also consider things that can be done so something is no more.”

“What about promises?” Jason suggested. “You give someone a promise, and it can disappear if you break it.”

“Yeah, but promises aren’t physical,” Connor pointed out. “We might need something tangible.”

“Great,” Jason groaned. “So we’re back to square one. We need to find something that fits the bill.”

“Wait a second,” Connor said, suddenly stopping in his tracks. “What if it’s way simpler than we are thinking?”

“Like what? At this point I am open for every idea.”, Jason shrugged.

Connor got close to the statue, “You want a solution for your problem.”

The statue slowly opened his eyes, “Correct.”

“Oh you gotta be kidding me.”, The Jqorn said completely done and defeated.

----------------------------------------

An hour ago, Colosseum

As usual whenever big events start, be them Olympics, Gymnastics, Sports, Wars and the like, properly start, it is really really really chaotic. Connor was pushed inside the labyrinth more than he willingly entered it as the masses of both criminals and fellow slaves rushed to do whatever they thought it would mean that they would win the first Game. The first rooms were obviously death traps that Connor needed to punch his way to make sure he wasn't pushed to them as he watched horrified at the so casual display of death in front of him. Not to mention the challenges and puzzles he faced himself.

But the main threat wasn't the puzzles, funnily and obviously enough.

It was the contestants.

The labyrinth wasn’t just designed to kill; it was a pressure cooker for desperation. People were losing their minds in the heat of the competition, and Connor knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have to deal with more of them. He had already run into a couple of maniacs swinging weapons around like it was a free-for-all. Punching his way out of those situations wasn’t too hard—most of them were sloppy, more interested in fighting each other than focusing on getting ahead. But the sheer unpredictability of it all? That was exhausting.

“Could’ve been anywhere else right now,” he grumbled under his breath as he knocked another guy out cold, the sound of the crowd outside the maze roaring like wild animals. “But no, gotta deal with these idiots. All for my freedom I guess.”

“Well, think about Lad, at least we can try that footwork idea you got yesterday, eh?”, Hughes tried to explore a brighter side in this shitshow.

“True.”, He agreed without really agreeing.

At least at first.

Connor barely had time to catch his breath before another contestant came barreling towards him, eyes wild with desperation. Connor sidestepped easily, slamming his fist into the guy's temple and sending him sprawling onto the stone floor.

“My knuckles ache,” he muttered. “This is getting old.”

Navigating through the labyrinth, Connor quickly realized that speed was key. The longer he stayed in one place, the more likely it was that someone would catch up and try to stab him in the back. He had no interest in getting tangled up in someone else’s mess. He had been walking for what felt like an eternity when he stumbled across Jason and Weston. Jason, bleeding and barely holding it together, and Weston, clearly about to gut him like a fish.

Weston had been standing there, knife in hand, ready to end Jason's life, and Connor? Well, Connor didn't care for dramatics. There wasn't some deep moral debate or hesitation. He saw a guy about to murder someone and decided to do what he does best— wreck the fucker’s day.

And honestly? At that moment, he didn't even feel anything. He didn't need to. He was done with all the melodrama, the guilt, the need to prove himself. He'd already gone through hell and back, seen people die, survived things that would make most men crumble. He had nothing to prove. So, he didn't even hesitate—just punched the living shit out of Weston's smug face.

The punch felt good, solid. Weston? He went flying like a sack of potatoes.

Connor almost laughed. The guy was a joke, swinging that knife around like he was in some action movie but had zero skills to back it up. It was embarrassing, really. Connor was expecting some kind of challenge, but Weston moved like he was swimming through molasses.

"Fucking hell, this guy is trash," Connor muttered to himself, actually feeling a bit disappointed.

In the back of his mind, he figured he'd spice things up a bit, just for fun. Why not try some things he normally wouldn't? It's not like this guy posed any real threat. So he threw in a kick— yeah, a kick. Not even his thing, but with all the footwork training he'd done, it didn't matter. His legs had enough power to send Weston stumbling like he'd been hit by a truck.

And the elbow? He rarely used that, but man, it paid off. Weston looked like he'd been hit by a wrecking ball. The guy was wrecked.

At this point, Connor wasn't even breaking a sweat. Weston, on the other hand, looked like he'd been put through a meat grinder. "How the hell did this guy even survive this long?" Connor grumbled, more annoyed than anything.

This is what this place has become? Him fighting a bunch of clowns?

Fast-forward to now, and both Wood Elf and Jqorn are now just angry at the statue.

“Seriously, this whole time you just wanted a solution?” Connor said again, still incredulous.

“Correct,” the statue replied in its monotone, otherworldly voice, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

A passage was revealed on the wall, probably the exit of this place.

Jason threw his hands up in frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me! We’ve been fighting for our lives, and this was the answer? Just ask?”

Connor let out a long, tired sigh. “This place is a joke,” he muttered. “A really bad one.”

Jason looked at him, bewildered. “So... what do we do now? Just walk out?”

Connor glanced at the statue, then back at Jason. “Yeah, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do. Let’s get the hell out of here before something else decides to ask for blood.”

Jason hesitated. “But... what about the others? There are still people in here, right?”

Connor shrugged, already heading toward the newly revealed exit. “Not my problem, Heartwood. You coming or not?”

Jason, with one last glance at the bizarre, unblinking statue, hurried after him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Just... remind me never to try and solve puzzles again.”

Connor smirked as they walked through the opening, leaving the chaotic labyrinth and its twisted games behind them. “Oh, believe me, I don't want it either.”