Chaos erupted around me, bodies darting in every direction. Screams filled the air as powers ignited; some floated, others launched energy blasts. One girl next to Zarina shrieked in pain, her body collapsing to the ground. I shot a quick glance at Ellowen, mentally saying my goodbyes, and sent a silent prayer for Zarina. Then, without hesitation, I ran.

Adrenaline drowned out my thoughts, guiding my steps. Left. Right. Right again. And just like that, I was lost in the maze. Fucking great Blithe.

I twirled the knife between my fingers, a nervous habit I'd picked up long ago. The sand beneath my feet felt unsettlingly familiar. If I closed my eyes and blocked out the chaos, it could’ve been the Ilyan desert. Home.

Suddenly, a wall hurtled toward me, pushed by some invisible force. I barely ducked in time, bolting out of the way. On the other side, two men were locked in a brutal fight, one telekinetic, the other with fists glowing like molten steel. Not my problem. I dashed past them, moving faster.

The maze seemed to stretch endlessly, the air thick with tension. My senses were sharper than ever—years of surviving the desert had honed them. As I crept through a still corridor, something shifted underfoot. Vibrations. Footsteps. Someone was near. I pressed myself against the wall, blending into the shadows, the knife hidden beneath my thigh. My breathing slowed, steadying.

It was like hunting.

Except this time, the prey was human.

The footsteps drew closer, the breathing ragged and uneven. I waited, my muscles tensed, each second dragging out. Finally the glimpse of a foot stepped out of the corridor, and then a leg, followed by the bleeding torso of a boy.

Without hesitation, I lunged. My leg swept beneath his feet, sending him crashing to the ground. In one fluid motion, I was behind him, my knife pressed to his throat.

He gasped, choking as he stared at the blade. A boy. My age, maybe younger. And I was about to kill him. I hesitated, a momentary flicker of doubt.

A stupid mistake.

His eyes flared with blue light, and suddenly, I was airborne. He threw me into the air and back towards the ground with a strength that could only come from an enhancer. His muscles bulged, doubling in size. Oh, fantastic. Just what I needed.

I rolled to the side, barely dodging a fist that slammed into the ground, sending sand flying in all directions. Blood trickled from my nose, but I gripped the knife tighter.

Using the sand as cover, I slipped behind him and drove the blade into his right shoulder. I twisted it, feeling the sickening pop of his joint. His scream pierced the air—a brutal sound. But there was no time to dwell on it. He was still dangerous, and I had to finish this.

He swung his elbow toward my face, but I ducked, dodging the blow. He wasn’t skilled. He relied too much on brute strength. Too predictable.

"You know," I panted, barely avoiding another punch, "for someone with super strength, you're not very... super."

He roared in frustration, his face contorting with rage. “I’ll crush you!” he bellowed, charging at me like a wild animal.

I sidestepped him easily, letting him crash into the maze wall. “Crush me? Wow, real creative. Did you come up with that one yourself?”

His muscles bulged even further, bones audibly creaking as he grew larger. Great, I’d really pissed him off. Mama Yatri always warned me my smart mouth would get me killed one day. Maybe today was that day

“Stay still, you little fuck!” His fists swung in wide, desperate arcs, missing by inches. I danced around him, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn’t keep this up much longer. Sooner or later, he’d land a hit—or I’d wear out.

That’s when I spotted it—a loose stone in the maze wall, just behind his left foot. Perfect.

I darted left, then right, baiting him toward me. “You wouldn’t be able to hit me even if I was standing still,” I taunted. He charged, just as I’d hoped. His foot caught the stone, and for a split second, he was off balance.

I seized the opportunity. Moving in quick, I ducked under his arm and drove my knife into the soft spot beneath his ribs. I pushed hard, feeling the blade sink in. His eyes went wide, his body freezing in shock.

Time seemed to slow as his muscles began to shrink. The glow faded from his eyes, replaced by confusion and fear. He looked at me, voice trembling. “I... I don’t want to die,” he whispered, sounding like a child.

I swallowed hard, throat tight. "I know," I whispered back. "I'm sorry."

His legs buckled, and I lowered him to the ground as gently as I could. His final breath slipped from his lips, leaving me staring at the bloodstained sand.

I allowed myself a brief moment of grief, just a moment, before retrieving my knife. Wiping it clean on my clothes, I glanced back at the boy.

It was then that I really looked at him. Same dark curly hair, same tanned skin... same height, too, now that his muscles had returned to normal. We could’ve been siblings.

A crazy, desperate idea formed in my mind, and I knew it was my best shot at surviving just a little longer.

“Sorry about this,” I muttered, kneeling beside him. “But I think I need your clothes more than you do.”

With quick, efficient movements (and trying very hard not to think too much about it) I stripped the boy of his outer clothes. They were too big on me, but that could work to my advantage. Slipping them on over my own, I grimaced at the bloodstains. Nothing I could do about that now. The harder part came next. I grabbed my long hair in one hand, knife in the other. With a sigh, I began sawing through the curly locks. The hair that used to fall just above my hips now barely touched my ears, messy and uneven. I ran some sand through the remaining curls to darken and rough it up, hoping it looked close enough to the boy's hair.

I knelt beside a puddle formed by the dripping vegetation on the maze wall, peering at my reflection. It wasn’t much, but with a bit of sand and blood smeared on my face, I roughened my features enough to blur the lines of femininity. Good enough to fool someone in a hurry.

The arena was eerily quiet, but I knew it wouldn’t last. There were still more competitors out there, more Awakened ready to kill or be killed. But now, I had the advantage of blending in. At least for a while.

Moving cautiously, I navigated the winding corridors, senses on high alert. Distant echoes of battles rang off the stone walls, but I wasn’t crazy enough to join them. My new plan was simple: stay hidden, stay alive, find a way out.

I tried to map out the maze in my mind, but the shifting walls made backtracking impossible. There had to be some pattern, though. Marking the walls with small scratches from my knife, I hoped it would help me avoid getting turned around. At worst, it might lead me back if I got lost.

Time passed, or at least it felt like it. The screams and clashes grew farther apart, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a very bad one.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed ahead. I pressed myself against the wall, trying to blend into the shadows. Two competitors appeared, both wounded, one limping and leaning on the other.

“I’m telling you, I saw it,” the limping one gasped. “A shimmer in the air, like a mirage. It’s got to be the exit.”

“You’re delirious from blood loss,” his companion muttered, dragging him along.

I held my breath as they passed, praying they wouldn’t notice me. Thankfully, they were too focused in their argument. Once they were gone, I exhaled slowly. A shimmer? It wasn’t much of a lead, but it was the first clue I'd gotten.

I moved in the direction they’d come from, keeping low and quiet. I felt something change underfoot. The sand had become finer, smoother. I knelt and sifted it through my fingers. Definitely different. Maybe they hadn’t been imagining things after all.

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Curiouser and curiouser

The air around me seemed to shimmer, heat waves distorting the stone walls. Was this the mirage they mentioned? As I approached, I saw it—an almost invisible ripple in the air, like a pond disturbed by a stone. It seemed out of place against the solid walls of the maze.

Before I could get any closer, I heard claws scraping against stone. I turned sharply, spotting a shadowed figure slinking from the end of the corridor. My heart stopped. It was a chimera—a grotesque blend of lion, goat, and serpent. The creature’s red eyes gleamed in the dim light, fixing first on the shimmer, then on me.

There was no time to think. The lion's jaws snapped as it lunged. I rolled out of the way, barely dodging its paw, which tore through the ground where I had just been. The serpent tail lashed out, and I barely managed to deflect it with my knife, the impact reverberating through my arm.

We circled each other. I couldn’t match its brute strength. I had to outmaneuver it. When the chimera charged again, I feinted left, ducking right at the last second. As it passed, I slashed its flank. It let out a furious roar, and its snake tail slammed into my chest, sending me flying into the wall. Pain radiated through my ribs as I gasped for breath.

The chimera’s eyes burned with rage as it readied another attack. My gaze darted to a loose chain hanging from the ceiling. Maybe from another unlucky competitor.

The beast lunged, and I sprinted for the chain. Grabbing it in one leap, I swung over the chimera, its lion's head snapping below me. I dropped onto its back, driving my knife into the junction where its lion neck met its goat body. The chimera bucked wildly, but I twisted the blade, holding on for dear life.

Suddenly, the chimera’s form began to shift and ripple. Fur receded, limbs morphed, and in moments, I found myself wrestling a human, a fucking shapeshifter. He threw me off, and I hit the ground hard, gasping as I staggered to my feet.

Blood streamed from his shoulder, but his eyes still blazed with a red, unnatural glow. “Clever girl,” he sneered. “But you’ll need more than that.”

His hands morphed into claws, and he lunged. I ducked, driving my fist into his midsection, but he didn’t falter, grabbing my arm and hurling me across the room. Stars exploded in my vision as I hit the floor.

The shapeshifter was on me in an instant, jaws elongating, teeth descending toward my throat. Desperate, I headbutted him. His nose cracked, and he reeled back. I kicked up, kneeing him in the groin before bringing my elbow down on his neck. He crumpled, but I knew it wouldn’t last.

Seizing my knife, I plunged it into his thigh. His scream of pain echoed through the corridor as his body convulsed, fighting to shapeshift again.

I didn’t wait to see what hell birthed creature he would morph into next.

Without looking back, I sprinted for the shimmering air. The shapeshifter’s howl echoed behind me, part human, part beast. But I didn’t stop. As I leaped into the distortion, the world around me twisted into a whirl of colors and light.

My feet hit solid ground, and I stumbled, blinking rapidly as the bright light seared my eyes. A roar erupted from the crowd around me.

As my eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, I took in the chaotic scene before me. The platform held a handful of survivors, all in various states of ruin. Some bled profusely, others stood unscathed but drenched in blood that clearly wasn’t theirs. Charming.

In front of us loomed an enormous hourglass, the last grains of sand slipping away. My heart sank. A timer? No one had mentioned that little detail. Or maybe I’d been too busy dodging death to notice. Though, to be fair, the whole point of sending me into this nightmare had been for me to die.

A booming voice echoed across the arena, loud enough to rattle my bones. "And there you have it, folks! The final competitor emerges just as time runs out! What a thrilling end to our preliminaries!"

Not exactly the finish line I’d been hoping for.

The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices crashing down like a tidal wave. I resisted the urge to cover my ears, instead slapping on what I hoped was a convincingly masculine scowl. Survival first, comfort second.

"Let's give a round of applause for our surviving Heroes!" The commentator’s enthusiasm practically dripped off the walls, making my skin crawl. "Over a hundred competitors, and now we’re down to the elite few! Truly, the Heroes of our great nation!"

I snorted. Heroes. Right. Because there’s nothing heroic about slaughtering your way through a death maze for public amusement. But the commentator wasn’t done.

"And look at this last-minute arrival! Cut it close, didn’t he? Let’s get a good look at our final qualifier!"

Suddenly, my face flashed on enormous screens floating around the arena. My heart stopped. I froze, staring at my own face. Please, please, please, don’t see me for what I am. Don’t recognize me as one of the sacrifices.

The commentator's voice came back with a laugh. "Oho! A scrapper, this one! Not the prettiest face in the bunch, but he’s got that rugged charm, don’t you think?"

A he. They thought I was a man. I would’ve kissed that commentator if he weren’t such an absolute fool.

As the crowd roared in approval, I glanced around at my fellow "heroes." Some looked like they’d just woken from a nightmare. Others grinned like maniacs, enjoying the carnage a little too much. Psychos, the lot of them.

A burly man with his arm hanging at an unnatural angle glared at me. "You looking for something?"

I dropped my voice, gruff and low. "No."

He grunted and turned away, wincing as his arm jostled. I scanned the platform, eyes locking on two blood-soaked figures standing together. One, a muscular redhead, was whispering to a boy covered in tattoos that sprawled across his chest like intricate scars. They both exuded danger in a way that set my nerves on edge.

There were eight of us left. Besides the redhead and tattooed boy, there was the burly guy with the broken arm and a pair of girls. One of them, a stunning blonde with kohl-lined eyes, chatted with another Hero while draping herself on his arm like she owned him. Blood splattered across her face didn’t dull her beauty, just sharpened it, like a blade. Even the man next to her, face half-covered in cuts, couldn’t hide his predator's grin. His other hand casually held the severed head of an older woman, one of the sacrifices from the cellar.

Bile clawed at my throat. That could’ve been me.

Suddenly, a hand gripped my shoulder, yanking me out of my thoughts. I spun around, ready to curse whoever it was into oblivion.

"Easy there, firecracker," drawled the tall redhead, the very same one I’d been watching earlier.

I squared my shoulders, my voice dropping to a gruff growl. "Firecracker? Really? Did you come up with that yourself, or did your bloody buddy help?"

His lips twitched in amusement. "Oh, I save my best material for special occasions. But given the situation, I thought it fit. You look like you’re ready to blow this place up any second." He was absolutely right in that last part.

I snorted, leaning into the cocky attitude I’d perfected. "Yeah, well, getting tossed into a death maze does that to a guy."

His grin faltered slightly, dark eyes glinting. "Fair point. Name’s Roran. The bloody buddy over there? That’s Cas."

"Charmed," I grunted, remembering to keep my voice low. "I’m... Elijah." I couldn’t risk using my real name.

Roran ran a hand through his messy red-black hair, leaving streaks of blood behind. "So, Elijah, what's your deal? What kind of Awakened are you?"

I barked out a laugh, masking my nerves with bravado. "You been living under a rock? You know we’re not supposed to reveal our abilities. Takes the fun out of the Competiton, don’t you think?"

Roran shrugged, having the decency to sheepishly smile at me. "Fair enough. We’re all a bit on edge here."

No kidding.

Just as I opened my mouth to respond, the massive doors at the far end of the platform creaked open, and the commentator’s voice rang out again. "Ladies and gentlemen, the preliminaries are officially over!"

The High King raised his arms, his four wings unfurling in a majestic display that made the crowd lose their minds. The Mistress beside him spread her own golden wings, the sunlight catching every feather like molten gold. But it was Prince Kaelan who truly stole the show, his wings shimmering with an almost blinding light. With a powerful downstroke that sent a gust of wind rippling across the arena, the royal family took to the air. They ascended in perfect formation, their wings beating in unison, creating a spectacle that left the crowd in awe

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Again.

"And now, our surviving Heroes will rest and recover before the next phase of the Summer Festival! Next week, we’ll see them in action once more!"

"Well," I muttered, turning back to Roran, "shall we see what ‘luxury’ accommodations await us, Little Red Riding Hood?"

Roran snorted. "After you, Firecracker. Something tells me this is going to be interesting."

As we stepped through the doors, the roar of the crowd faded, replaced by a tense silence and nervous whispers.

The hallway was a jarring contrast, polished marble floors, chandeliers, and tapestries of past Heroes adorned the walls. The kind of glory they dangled in front of you before ripping it away. I straightened my shoulders, ignoring the dull ache creeping through my body. Complicated or not, I wasn’t dead yet. And I planned to keep it that way.

We were led deeper into the building, and I caught snippets of conversation—some competitors bragging about their victories, others staying silent, like me. But my mind was clouded by exhaustion and pain. The adrenaline was wearing off, and my body screamed with every step.

"Welcome, competitors," a smooth voice said, cutting through the din. A woman appeared at the end of the hall, wings fluttering behind her like an afterthought. "I am Madame Celeste, your hostess. Please follow me to the orientation hall."

The way she smiled, all ice and teeth, sent a shiver down my spine. Roran, with a grin plastered on his face, couldn't bite his tongue for more than two seconds.

"Lead the way, Madame. I’m dying to hear what’s next."

Her eyes flashed with something sharp, but her smile remained frozen in place. "Oh, I’m sure you’ll find our hospitality… unforgettable."

Yeah. Something told me the real nightmare was just beginning.