Calvin sat at his desk, staring blankly at the spreadsheet on his monitor. The blinking cursor mocked him as it waited for input, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow over the rows of identical cubicles. It was just another soul-sucking Monday in the corporate labyrinth of OrbusTech.

His phone buzzed, breaking his trance. A message popped up on the screen: "Meeting in Conference Room B. Mandatory." Calvin groaned. These meetings were rarely about anything important, just endless discussions about productivity goals and synergy.

He grabbed his notepad and a pen, shuffled out of his cubicle, and joined the slow-moving stream of employees trudging toward the conference room. As he reached the door, he hesitated. Something felt... off. The usually bustling office seemed eerily quiet, the hum of printers and distant chatter replaced by an unsettling silence.

Inside Conference Room B, his colleagues were already seated, their faces pale and eyes wide with confusion. At the head of the table stood Mr. Grieves, the office manager, with an unnerving grin plastered across his face.

“Ah, Calvin! Right on time,” Mr. Grieves said, his voice too cheerful. “Take a seat.”

Calvin slid into the nearest chair. The air in the room felt heavy, like a storm was brewing. Mr. Grieves clasped his hands together and began pacing.

“We’ve reached a pivotal moment at OrbusTech,” he said, his tone teetering between excitement and menace. “It’s time to separate the wheat from the chaff, the dedicated from the dispensable. Today—right now—you’ll prove your worth.”

“Prove our worth?” Calvin echoed, glancing nervously at his coworkers.

Mr. Grieves’ grin widened. He gestured toward the far wall, which suddenly began to slide open, revealing a hidden passageway. A cold draft swept through the room, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth.

“Welcome to The Great Office Escape,” Mr. Grieves announced, spreading his arms dramatically. “A team-building exercise like no other. The rules are simple: make it out alive, and you’ll keep your job. Fail, and... well, let’s just say the severance package is final.”

The room erupted in protests, but Grieves raised a hand to silence them.

“No need to panic,” he said, his voice dripping with mock reassurance. “Think of it as an opportunity to show how resourceful you can be under pressure.”

Before anyone could argue further, a loud buzzer sounded, and the floor beneath their chairs began to shift. Calvin barely had time to stand before the chairs sank into the ground, replaced by metal grates. The passageway ahead lit up, revealing a corridor lined with flickering lights.

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“Time’s ticking,” Grieves said with a chuckle. “Good luck!”

The group hesitated, but the door behind them slammed shut, leaving no other option. With a resigned sigh, Calvin led the way into the corridor. The walls were lined with strange symbols and gears, like something out of a steampunk nightmare. The floor creaked under their weight.

They came to the first obstacle: a large pit filled with spinning blades. A narrow beam stretched across it, barely wide enough for one foot at a time. A sign overhead read: “BALANCE YOUR PRIORITIES.”

“Is this a joke?” someone muttered.

“Does it look like a joke?” Calvin snapped. He tested the beam with his foot, then started inching across. The blades whirred below, their metallic sheen gleaming menacingly. Halfway across, he wobbled but managed to steady himself. One by one, the others followed, though two of them fell. Their screams echoed briefly before being abruptly cut off. The survivors pressed on, shaken.

The next room was a maze of filing cabinets stacked to the ceiling, their drawers jutting out at odd angles to form a chaotic labyrinth. A clock on the wall ticked ominously, and another sign read: “FIND YOUR WAY THROUGH THE RED TAPE.”

Calvin cursed under his breath. “Of course it’s a bureaucratic nightmare.”

The group fanned out, searching for an exit. Drawers opened and shut on their own, spewing papers into the air like confetti. Calvin ducked under a falling cabinet and spotted a faint light in the distance. “This way!” he called, guiding the others toward the exit. They emerged disheveled but relieved.

The third room was the most unnerving yet. It was a perfect replica of their office floor, but the cubicles were empty and eerily pristine. At the center of the room stood a single desk with a typewriter on it. A sign above read: “TYPE YOUR RESIGNATION.”

“What happens if we don’t?” one coworker asked.

“Only one way to find out,” Calvin replied grimly.

Reluctantly, he approached the typewriter and began to type. As he pressed each key, the walls around them started to close in. He typed faster, the letters blurring together, until he finally finished. The walls stopped mere inches from crushing them.

The final room was a vast chamber filled with mirrors. Each reflected not their current selves, but distorted versions: younger, older, happier, angrier. At the center stood Mr. Grieves, clapping slowly.

“Congratulations,” he said. “You’ve made it to the end. But there’s one last challenge.”

“What more could you possibly want?” Calvin demanded.

Grieves gestured to a lever beside him. “Pull this, and only one of you will leave with your job. The rest... well, let’s just say retirement will come early. Or, you can choose to work together and find another way. The choice is yours.”

Calvin looked at his remaining coworkers. They were battered, exhausted, but alive. He stepped toward the lever, then paused.

“No,” he said firmly. “We’re not playing by your rules.”

He turned to the others. “Help me find a way out of this.”

Together, they examined the mirrors, noticing that one didn’t reflect anything at all. Calvin pushed against it, and it swung open, revealing a hidden passage. Grieves’ smug expression faltered.

“Impossible!” he sputtered.

“Nothing’s impossible when we work together,” Calvin shot back.

They fled through the passage, emerging into the open air just as the building began to rumble. Behind them, OrbusTech collapsed in on itself, taking Mr. Grieves and his twisted game with it.

For the first time in years, Calvin felt free. As he and his coworkers walked away from the ruins, he couldn’t help but laugh. The corporate grind had tried to break them, but they had escaped—together.