Participants of the second stage of the exam gathered in a massive hall that resembled an arena. At the center of the room hovered a translucent device, pulsing softly with light and casting rainbow reflections on the walls. One of the examiners, dressed in a dark suit, stepped onto a raised platform. His voice cut through the murmur of the crowd:

"Welcome to the second stage of the exam. You will be divided into teams of three. Your task is to navigate a labyrinth in virtual reality. Each of you will have your consciousness transferred into the simulation. There, you’ll face traps, enemies, and other challenges. Remember, only the first four teams to complete the labyrinth will advance. Now, without further ado, I will begin announcing the teams:

"Team 1: Numbers 8, 24, and 119, room 23… Team 2…"

Izak felt his heart race. "Teams of three?" he thought, glancing nervously at the crowd. He had no idea who would end up in his group, which only added to the tension. Many participants had been eliminated in the first exam, leaving only 24 teams for the second stage.

"Team 24: Numbers 3, 74, and 647, room 58. That’s all the teams. Please proceed to your assigned rooms."

"Well, that answers that," Izak thought, scanning the faces of his teammates as they were called. The first was a boy with a scarf, which he adjusted nonchalantly. The number 3 was stuck to his shirt.

"Looks like we’re stuck with each other," the boy said, raising an eyebrow. "Name’s Kornel."

Izak furrowed his brow, trying to gauge his tone.

"You already know my name, so I won’t bother introducing myself," he replied, raising one eyebrow in return.

"Let’s hope you don’t drag the team down," Kornel shot back with a hint of irritation. "Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Guess I’m just unlucky," he added, glancing at an elderly man approaching with the number 74 on his chest.

Before Izak could reply, the older man joined them. His face was etched with wrinkles, and his eyes carried an enigmatic blend of experience and cunning. He smiled warmly, extending a hand to Izak.

"Witold. Nice to meet you, young man. I hope we can work well together."

Izak shook his hand, though his instincts warned him this man might be more complex than he seemed.

"Sure. Let’s see how it goes," he replied, keeping his tone polite.

"Looks like it’s time to head to our room," Kornel said, glancing between them. "Let the games begin."

Witold nodded.

"Let’s hope we have enough time to learn to work together. Labyrinths… can be tricky."

"Let’s just get this started," Izak thought, a mix of excitement and unease brewing within him.

Moments later, the team reached room 58. They stepped into translucent pods, which closed with a faint hiss. The world around them began to blur, and their consciousnesses were transferred into a new reality.

When Izak opened his eyes, he found himself in a dark labyrinth built from black stone. The walls glowed faintly green, resembling phosphorescent algae. The air was heavy, saturated with moisture and an oppressive tension. In the distance, he could hear heavy footsteps and a low, guttural roar.

"This is… strange," Izak murmured, glancing at his arm. To his surprise, his wound was gone, and his body appeared completely healed.

Kornel, standing nearby, crossed his arms over his chest.

"This is virtual reality. Your body doesn’t exist here physically, so you don’t have wounds. But if you get hurt in the simulator, you’ll feel the pain. I don’t think I need to spell that out for you, do I?"

Izak sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Thanks for the lecture, genius."

The older man studied their surroundings carefully, examining the walls and floor.

"Virtual or not, we need to stay cautious. Labyrinths have a way of surprising you."

Suddenly, the footsteps they had heard earlier began to draw closer. The three of them quickly hid behind a wall.

"Minotaur," Kornel whispered, pointing to one of the tendrils of mist snaking across the ground.

Witold glanced at him with a faint smile.

"Good to have someone who can analyze the situation. Tell me, young man, which way should we go?"

Kornel inspected the walls and floor.

"First, we need to find the map. Fragments of it are hidden somewhere in this labyrinth. Unfortunately, we also have to avoid the Minotaur. If it catches us, it’s game over."

"Sounds like a plan. Let’s go," Izak said, impressed.

Within minutes, they encountered their first trap—a narrow corridor with a floor that began collapsing as soon as they stepped on it. Kornel stopped just in time, grabbing Izak’s arm before he fell into the gaping chasm below.

"Be more careful," Kornel snapped. "I’m not going to save you every five seconds."

The younger boy examined the corridor carefully, then balanced on the edges of the tiles that seemed stable, making his way across. Once safe, he turned back and called out:

"Your turn. It’s not that hard."

Izak glanced at Witold, who clutched his lower back and looked at him with a pleading expression. Deciding he had no other choice, Izak hoisted the older man onto his back and carefully followed Kornel’s path. Finally, all three of them reached the other side.

The sight clearly annoyed Kornel, who wasn’t about to hold his tongue.

"Do you have extra chromosomes or something?" he asked, glaring at Izak. "Why are you letting this old guy use you? He’s Awakened too; he should handle the obstacles himself."

"Just shut it already. I helped him because I felt like it," Izak retorted, irritation creeping into his voice.

Kornel decided not to push the matter further and walked ahead. Meanwhile, Witold turned to Izak with a grateful smile.

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"Thank you, young man. This exam is truly challenging."

"No problem, old-timer," Izak replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. "But why are you even taking such a dangerous exam?"

The older man looked up thoughtfully before answering.

"You see, I’ve always wanted to join the special forces. Unfortunately, I couldn’t awaken my powers when I was younger. It only happened recently, and I decided it’s never too late to chase your dreams."

Izak didn’t want to show that he was moved by the story, so he turned away and added,

"I’ll help you pass this exam."

The older man’s face lit up with a warm smile as he thanked him, and they both followed Kornel. By the time they caught up, Kornel had already secured a fragment of the labyrinth map.

Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed in the distance. The Minotaur was closing in. The team bolted, but in the chaos, Izak was separated from the group and found himself alone in the labyrinth. Everything around him looked identical, and the oppressive atmosphere amplified his sense of disorientation.

In the distance, he saw a human figure. Curious, he followed it. As he approached, the person turned around, revealing a face that left Izak speechless. It was his father, Antoni Pilsudski.

The father looked almost identical to how he had been in life, except for the horrifying hole in his chest—a chilling reminder of Izak’s recurring dream. He stood frozen, paralyzed by the sight. His rational mind screamed that it had to be an illusion, but the figure’s uncanny realism made it hard to ignore.

Antoni drew a sword and lunged at his son. Izak barely managed to dodge, but the blade nicked him. The virtual system displayed a message: “Candidate No. 647: -15 HP.” A jarring vibration coursed through Izak’s body, and he realized he had stepped on a trap-activating tile. Any movement would set it off.

His father struck again, forcing Izak into frantic, stationary dodges. Each swing of the sword grew faster, each movement more relentless, pushing Izak to the brink of desperation. His heart pounded wildly, sweat streamed down his face, and the blade’s edge grazed his clothes repeatedly, leaving faint marks.

"I can’t keep this up,” Izak thought as his legs began to tremble. Seeing no way out, he made a split-second decision. “Screw this!” he muttered internally, leaping off the tile.

A mechanical sound rang out as the trap activated. The walls around him fired an array of sharp arrows that sliced through the air with terrifying precision. One arrow embedded itself deeply in his side, sending waves of searing pain through his body.

“Candidate No. 647: -50 HP,” the system’s cold voice announced.

Doubling over, clutching his side, Izak didn’t have time to catch his breath. His father, undeterred by the activated trap, walked through the storm of arrows as if they didn’t exist. The illusion showed no signs of stopping. Limping, Izak backed away, only to find himself cornered in a dead-end corridor.

"Great, this is it,” he thought, watching as the illusion of his father raised his sword for the final blow. Something inside Izak snapped. He couldn’t let it end here.

Pulling the arrow from his side, Izak hurled it at his father, aiming for the leg. It struck perfectly. The illusion faltered for a brief moment, giving Izak the opening he needed. He lunged at the figure, using all his strength to shove it backward.

Antoni was faster. Blocking Izak’s attack, he countered with a swing that cut through the air just inches from Izak’s shoulder. The boy leapt back, using the narrow corridor to his advantage to evade further strikes. The illusion seemed invincible, each move precise, as though it could anticipate Izak’s every action.

"I have to outsmart him,” Izak thought, focusing intently on his opponent. Suddenly, he noticed a flaw—his father always launched full-force attacks, leaving his left side exposed. A plan began to form in Izak’s mind.

As Antoni swung his sword again, Izak made a deliberately clumsy dodge, tricking the illusion into thinking it had him. At the last second, he dove under the blade, driving his knee into his father’s abdomen. The illusion staggered, and Izak seized the moment to grab its arm and throw it to the ground.

Wasting no time, Izak lunged for the sword that had fallen during their struggle and struck a decisive blow to his father’s chest. The illusion shattered into thousands of shimmering fragments that floated upward and disappeared.

Izak collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. His side throbbed with pain, and his breathing came in heavy, ragged bursts. Relief was short-lived, however, as he heard the sound of hooves behind him.

Turning, he saw the Minotaur towering over him, its massive frame filling the corridor. The beast’s glowing eyes bore into him. “This is the end,” he thought, resigned.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through his despair.

“Don’t just stand there, or you’ll get stomped!” Kornel burst into the corridor, distracting the Minotaur with a flash of spiritual energy.

Candidate No. 3 entered the scene with a calmness that starkly contrasted the chaos. His voice was cool and measured as he explained to Izak that each defeated trap and obstacle weakened the Minotaur’s defenses. He also mentioned sending Witold to handle the labyrinth’s final challenge.

Annoyance flickered in Izak’s mind at the thought of leaving the older teammate alone, but he quickly realized it was a calculated decision. Witold, despite appearances, had more strength and experience than expected. With the team’s combined efforts, defeating the beast now seemed possible.

The battle with the Minotaur was a brutal test of endurance and teamwork. The towering creature, over three meters tall, swung its colossal axe, shattering the labyrinth’s stone walls. Kornel, maintaining a steady composure, analyzed the Minotaur’s movements and predicted its attacks, while Izak focused on diverting its attention.

“We need to find its weak spot,” Kornel called out, dodging another strike. “Go for the legs! Slow it down!”

Though exhausted, Izak heeded the advice. He slid under the creature’s legs and drove the arrow he’d pulled from his side into the tendon of its left calf. The Minotaur roared in pain, its movements noticeably slower. But it wasn’t enough. The beast swung its axe in a frenzy, narrowly missing Kornel, who barely managed to dodge.

“We’re running out of time!” Kornel shouted, glancing at Izak. “If this takes any longer, we’re done for.”

Determined, Izak steeled himself. Remembering Filip’s lessons about sensing energy and focusing, he resolved to act decisively. As the Minotaur prepared another attack, Izak spotted a small crack in the armor on its chest.

“Kornel! There, in the center of its chest!” he yelled, pointing at the weak spot.

Kornel nodded, channeling his spiritual energy for a concentrated attack. The blast struck the target dead on, causing the Minotaur to falter and drop to one knee. This was the opening they needed.

Out of nowhere, Witold appeared. Despite his seemingly unassuming demeanor, he radiated determination. Holding a wooden staff imbued with his spiritual energy, he looked at Kornel and Izak.

“You’ve done well, boys. Let’s finish this together,” he said firmly yet calmly.

With precision and unity, Witold climbed onto the Minotaur’s back, driving his weapon into its neck, while Kornel and Izak delivered simultaneous blows to its chest and legs. The creature let out a deafening roar before its body dissolved into mist, leaving behind the final fragment of the map.

Victory was theirs. The three teammates exchanged glances, a mix of relief and exhaustion on their faces. Collecting the map piece, they headed toward the exit. They had completed the labyrinth as the second team.

Kornel wasn’t pleased.

“Second place? Didn’t see that coming,” he remarked coldly, though his glance at Izak carried a different message. “You’ve got something interesting about you. I’ll be watching.”

Izak managed a faint smile, despite his fatigue and pain. He didn’t know what awaited him in the next stage, but one thing was certain—the team had made it through.

As they left the virtual world, all their exhaustion vanished. Izak had almost forgotten about his real-world injury until the sharp pain reminded him the moment they returned.

On the screen, a message displayed: Teams Advancing: 5, 24, 8, 11.