Nox awoke to a bellowing minotaur. The sound reverberating in his chest like a front row seat to a Manowar-metal-head concert. His whole body felt like it had been cooked with electricity, aching and strung out while simultaneously being wired. Ew… I’ve gone full junky, crap. Ashley is going to murder me! If the Corps doesn’t beat her to the punch. Solitary confinement or an end to my therapy stipend is the best scenario for me… If I survive. They’ll have to get in line behind a minotaur, enjoy sniffing cow farts you sapien apes. Thought Nox. Leaping onto his feet.

Actually springing onto them with the strength of a dozen kangaroos, startling Nora and Ashley who were sitting nearby. Nox knew his time was limited, and wasted none of it on pleasantries. Ultimately sprinting up the wyvern’s back he jumped into the air. Feet kicking down twice for purchase against the cold stone before his hands found the edge. Marble crumpled under his fingers, deforming into suitable hand holds for him to hoist himself onto the wall. From his perch he peered into the darkness above, scanning the sky for wyverns. Where none could be seen.

“Are you alright?” Nora called after him.

“I’ll scout ahead and try to find a way out, or anything we can use.” Called Nox, trotting off into the darkness.

“Nox! Come back here!” Shouted Ashley, voice fading as he jogged away.

A second later he adjusted the glow stone’s velcro, spilling a fragment of blue light –less than a candle’s worth– across the labyrinth. Enough for his therapy enriched senses to utilize and no more. Let’s hope the wyverns cant see this…

‘Going solo without a weapon? You’re going to die. Oh, do you still think this is all an illusion? Some mental trickery meant to invade your mind and trap you here?’ Asked Miasma.

Look, either you have the power to rewind time, or you have the power to create perfect illusions. OBVIOUSLY one of those possibilities is more reasonable than the other! –Distant wingbeats checked Nox’s anger. He needed to focus, make an ally of this dungeon deity until he could stab his boss in the carotid artery.

Hey, if I can’t get rid of you, what is your name? I can’t keep calling you something as stupid as ‘Miasma.’ Thought Nox in response,

‘You’re species has no concept of me. So call me board.’ Said the Miasma demon.

Board? Do you mean Bored? Ugh! Mischief is what you are, a dungeon illusion full of problems, surprises, and treachery. Though I don’t remember the Greeks having a god of mischief… There is Pan… But you aint fuzzy enough for a satyr. You’re way too much trouble. Hehe, mischief and trouble are your names, so you are Loki!

‘Paying homage to me already? You haven’t killed my minotaur even once! Better hurry, before I grow bored of your meaningless existence. Our game ends when you give up. Don’t trick yourself into thinking I will encourage you to continue, not when I have eleven other human toys to play with. Maybe I’ll start with Ash.’ Said Loki, conjuring a vision of Ashley being dismembered and immolated, just as Nox had been.

Then he drove the vision into the past, to a happier time. Before the draft, and long before Nox found their father’s severed legs in a dungeon, before mom contracted the creeping death of mana cancer.

“I’m going to kill that minotaur, then I’m coming for you Loki.” Nox said aloud.

He stood, and scattered marble fragments with his speed. B;itzing into shadows. Ahead of him, ten thousand corridors clawed at his hope. Defeat, depression, and death all rose from their shadowed angles and liminal spaces. A true maze. One to throttle his sanity before it granted him the sweet release of death. Little did either of them know, death would never grant Nox any peace. Yet, a river of rippling air just might. Such a distortion was directly in front of Nox, beckoning him to traverse the dungeon’s fickle winds as the flowing air blurred the central pyramid’s edges.

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Ashley had called it a waterfall of mana, and with his enhanced eyes he found her assessment to be highly accurate. Similar to a heat mirage, the air around the structure rippled and wiggled, as if there was a constant flow of energy ascending into the air. To trespass into the structure might just cost his life… Turning to face the way they had come, Nox looked for any kind of landmark. Besides the blurry building there was nothing visible in any direction. If he left now, he might not be able to find his way back. Ah… that was dumb… Thought Nox, biting his tongue, and jogged back to the kill team, feeling entirely foolish for running blindly into a maze.

“Hey, can you guys toss me up some C4? I have no landmarks to find you.” Called Nox.

“I’m coming with–” Began Ashley, cut off by a hand from Mary-sue.

“Good Luck, use standard hunter signals.” Called Mary-sue, referring to the codes they’d all learned in hunter basic training.

“We’ll backtrack and leave a few glow stones on top of the wall. Should be enough for a frame of reference. After that we’ll keep aiming for the center. Here.” Jesus shouted.

Nox’s backpack sailed above the wall, C4 stuffed into every pocket like some kind of eco-terrorist. As if he’d predicted Nox’s decision and prepared accordingly. You’re a good man Jesus.

“Detonate two bricks exactly one minute apart if you reach the building. Three bricks exactly one minute apart if you found the exit.” Jesus added.

“Yes sir!” Answered Nox, setting off towards the building.

Navigating the maze from a bird’s eye view was a breeze. By some sick twist of fate they had chosen correctly and were four-fifths of the way through the maze, quickly approaching its center. Ten minutes of jogging and the building clarified into a glowing stepped pyramid, a ziggurat. Scores of indistinguishable items or figures adorned its crown. Thought they might be furniture of some uncannily monstrous style. What furniture did greeks even have? Thought Nox, keeping his eyes peeled for wyverns, an impossible task without the twice overdosed gene therapy. But with it, the darkness was practically gone, allowing him to navigate based on the miniscule light from luminescent lichens that clung to the cavern’s ceiling. A fungal form of the night sky, complete with a cluster that could have passed for a half-moon, if one were drunk, cross-eyed, and squinting rather harshly.

A fork in the corridor appeared in front of him, creating a gap in his walltop highway. Instead of turning aside, Nox saw the gap and accelerated, building up speed til he leapt into the air. Gene therapy hurled him forward, cleanly sailing over the gap and continuing onward. In his mind he pictured potential paths, tracing an imaginary line from the kill team to the ziggurat, life or death, the ziggurat was the only place guaranteed to be different from the surrounding labyrinth. In theory the labyrinth contained more monsters and someone had mentioned a mushroom colony, but the kill team only had a few hours before they started dropping dead. A lethal deadline that forced them into an end run on the boss’ likely abode. Boss rooms often contained ancient treasures, artifacts of myth, or at least fallen kill teams. So if there was any advantage to be gained from the entire dungeon it was most probably there.

Dozens of theoretical paths later, Nox groaned aloud. The path the kill team was following ended in another dead end. Barely a hundred yards separated their dead end from the Ziggurat's entrance. So hellishly close that Nox wanted to scream! It was right there! Close enough to throw a stick at! Now they would have to backtrack beyond his vision to find another branch forward. All those traps defused for nothing?!

“Stupid Loki, stupid cow, stupid Labyrinth!” Shouted Nox, immediately clapping a hand over his mouth.

He checked the sky reflexively. Not daring to breathe for fear of winged hunters.

A bellow shook the world, close enough to make his knees quake. It’s already been an hour! Unlike previous bellows Nox was above the Labyrinth’s twisting corridors, giving him a vague direction of the minotaur. It’s close, another hour or two and he will be on us.

Desperation fueled his therapy frenzied brain, and Nox made a string of decisions he otherwise would have avoided. Wadding a quarter of his C4 into a brick thicker than his thigh he inserted one of the detonators, a remote controlled electric prod that would turn the moldable plastic into an explosive more potent than TNT. He dropped the bomb to the marble floor below and sprinted away, getting fifty yards away before detonating it. Shrapnel mingled with fire, spraying glistening marble dust two hundred feet into the air.

That’s beautiful. Hey, Loki, remind me to carry more C4. It’s the bomb dot com.

For the first time in their shared plight, Loki cackled for them both.

‘Sounds more like a dinner bell.’ Loki added.

A bellow kicked Nox’s solar plexus, knocking him off his feet.

Clip-clop

Footsteps, no, the sound of hooves running across stone reached Nox.

Clip-clop

Nox scrambled to his feet, racing back to the demolished wall. Has it been a minute? Screw it! Nox ripped a chunk of C4 out of his pack, piercing it with a detonator and hurling it in the minotaur’s direction. The single wall between the Ziggurat and his team had been leveled in a ragged V shape, with rubble scattered on both sides of the former wall, triggering nearby traps.

He dropped to the labyrinth’s floor and pressed the remote detonator’s single button, receiving a delightful boom from a few corridors away. I really hope that was sixty seconds. Cmon guys, get here fast!

Clip-clop

There was no time to waste, Nox had to reach the Ziggurat. He silently prayed his therapy overdose would be enough to evade the minotaur until–

–his foot snagged against the final tripwire, sending him hands first into an ocean of vampiric sawgrass. With a trap triggering on top of his prone form.

‘Ah, so close.’