A tall, dark-haired man stepped over the rubble. He wore dark leather armor and looked to be in his forties, with strands of hair and beard stubble already starting to turn gray.

His breathing was ragged, as if he’d run a marathon, and he had dark bags under his eyes.

“Get the fuck out!” He roared with disdain, pointing a finger at Lisa. “The next time you try something like this, I’ll throw you into a cell myself.”

Lisa’s eyes flashed purple, her everpresent gentle smile gone from her face. She stood up and turned towards the door.

“Hello, Sarah. I’m glad to see you,” she greeted a young, exhausted-looking woman behind the man before turning her attention to him. "You must be Michael. I believe we’ve met before. My apologies,” Lisa added with a slight bow.

“Out!” Roared Michael again. The tension in the room was palpable.

“You are the one threatening a fellow agent, Michael. I’m here on official business. If you attack me, you will be the one who ends up in a cell,” she threatened playfully. “Watching the mess you’ve made, you might already have one saved up for you.”

“Official business, my ass,” shouted Michael. “I know very well where your allegiance lies. Have you even told him the truth?”

Lisa’s expression darkened.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re only worried about milking every last bit of information out of him. He is a drafted, for god’s sake! You should be helping him. Now move, or I’ll report you to the Tribunal.”

Lisa sighed and turned to Christopher. “Thank you for your help, Chris. I’ll be back later.”

“Don’t bother,” retorted Michael. “We are taking him to the E.A.C.”

Lisa’s eyes turned cold, but she didn’t say anything. She left the room, leaving Christopher alone with the two newcomers.

The furious expression finally slipped off Michael’s face, and he approached the bed, closely followed by Sarah.

“Sorry for the entrance, Christopher. I know these were not the best of introductions,” Michael apologized with a slight bow.

“I’m Michael, and this is Sarah.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I was the one who gave the Lazarus page to you.”

“The what?” Christopher asked, confused. He was still scared but trusted that Lisa wouldn’t leave him alone if those two were planning to hurt him.

“The message about your daughter, I was the one who wrote it,” Michael said.

Upon hearing him, Christopher lowered his guard slightly.

“We work together for the European Author’s Department, and we were the ones who retrieved your body and took it to the Labyrinth,” started the young girl. Christopher was pretty sure she was younger than him.

“Why would you do that?”

Sarah paused momentarily and glanced at Michael.

“A Lazarus must be returned to the Labyrinth before his Prelude,” Michael said. “If not, he turns into a terror.”

“A terror?” asked Christopher.

“Horrible thing. A devouring horror who likes to feast on innocent people, but let’s leave that discussion for later.” Michael shoved away the question. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested. “We can answer your questions on the Outside.”

With two fingers, Michael easily broke Christopher’s restraints. Christopher, however, refused to move.

“What are you waiting for?” Michael asked with a frown. Sarah, however, was quicker to pick up the clues.

“He’s scared, Michael.” She said. “Why would he go with us? We just barged in here and blew up the door to his room.”

“I’m not scared,” said Christopher. “But I’ve never seen you before. Why would I go with you?”

Michael tapped his foot on the floor with impatience. “Do you know where we are?”

“Inside the Labyrinth,” replied Christopher, causing Michael to roll back his eyes.

“Yes. We are on the 1st floor. But where exactly?” Michael insisted.

Christopher opened his mouth to answer but hesitated. He was sure he wasn’t in a hospital, but he didn’t know where he was.

“You are inside Aeymenchuk, the Author’s Prison on the 1st floor,” Michael announced, and he couldn’t hide a mocking grin when Christopher opened his mouth in surprise.

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“Yes, a prison,” he continued. “Obviously, you are on the lowest security ward. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able just to walk in as I pleased. But it’s a prison nonetheless. Didn’t you find it weird they kept your restraints on this whole time?”

Christopher nodded and slowly got out of bed, his sore body complaining after so many days lying down.

“Good,” said Michael with a smile, gesturing to the notebook beside his pillow. “Let’s go then. And don’t forget your Tale.”

Not wasting any more time, Christopher secured his Tale to his waist and followed Lisa and Michael out of the room. His now destroyed door gave way to a windowless, humid stone corridor.

Thick metal doors adorned both sides of the corridor, and desperate howls, sobs, and laughs echoed all around.

“Don’t worry about them,” said Sarah. “Most are serving light sentences, no more than one year.”

“Are they alone?”

“They are,” she replied.

“That’s cruel.”

Sarah nodded. “It can be cruel, but it is necessary. Authors don’t lose their powerful stats and abilities, even if separated from their Tale. Containing one of them is hard enough; put more than one of them together, and they’ll either kill eachother or find a way to break out.”

They arrived at a pretty damaged section of the corridor. The walls were cracked, and the floor was covered with stone rubble mixed with blood. In a corner, a modern metallic desk had been broken in half, with the mark of a fist still imprinted on the metal.

Christopher raised his head and looked at Michael’s and Sarah’s back.

How strong must they be to break into a prison so easily?

At the end of the corridor was a man dressed in medieval armor, scrubbing the floor with a dirty, crimson rag. The guard raised his head as they walked in, and to Christopher’s surprise, he ignored Michael and instead glared daggers at Sarah.

Was she the one to do this? He wondered.

Christopher feared that a fight would break through, but his concerns were unfounded. The guard lowered his eyes and kept vehemently scrubbing the stone floor.

They left through a hole on the right. It was supposed to be secured by a gate, but only a mess of bent iron bars remained.

What followed was a maze of narrow corridors and heavily guarded outposts–in most of which, the guards glared at Sarah. Finally, after thirty minutes, they arrived at a large, windowless reception.

There were about twenty guards there, all wearing the same medieval-like uniform. Four of them stood guard by two massive stone gates, and the others were busy processing inmates.

Christopher watched as two guards overpowered a newly arrived prisoner. The man wore a rusty, broken armor set, and half of his head was shaved off. But what truly caught Christopher’s attention was the grotesque extra arm protruding from the man’s chest.

The extra arm was a twisted mass of scars and lesions, oozing thick, black tar. It ended in three unnaturally long, pink fingers tipped with short, stubby claws.

Two guards forced the man to kneel down, and while a third kept his extra arm in check, the fourth took a rectangular package from his waist. Enraged, the man thrashed powerlessly, unable to escape the guards.

“Is that his Tale?” Christopher asked.

“Yes,” Sarah replied shortly.

The mood around the lobby turned sour as they noticed their small party arriving. Despite the tension, none of the guards tried to stop them, opening way as they approached the large stone gates.

From the corner of his eye, Christopher saw Lisa. She smiled faintly and mouthed a few inaudible words, which he interpreted as “See you soon.”

The guards at the gate took a step back and let them through, and Michael easily pushed the massive stone doors, revealing an enormous cave.

The cave was dimly lit, leaving most of the ceiling shrouded in darkness. However, Christopher could make out swarms of massive stalactites hanging ominously in the faint light. Tiny droplets of fine mist fell from their tips, cascading into a misty waterfall that was carried away by a soft current.

The scene looked eerie familiar, but Christopher wasn’t sure where he had seen it before.

A massive stone wall surrounded the prison, with four watchtowers standing watch. Large balls of orange flame hung from the towers, secured by long, thick chains ending in black metallic claws that held the flames in place.

“What is this place?” He asked.

“It’s the 1st floor,” replied Michael before nodding to Sarah.

“The Labyrinth is split into different floors,” she explained. “How many there are, however, no one knows. This is the 1st floor, which is special because it lacks a maze.”

“A maze?” Questioned Christopher.

“Yes. All floors but the first have a maze. In order to transverse from one floor to another, an Author has to go through that floor's maze.”

“Was the swamp a maze too?”

“No. That was an Outskirt,” Sarah explained. “They are quite rare, but some floors have land extensions around the maze.”

“Is that where the Dwellers live?” Christophe asked.

“You know about Dwellers?” Michael asked with surprise.

Christopher nodded. “Yes, Lisa told me about them. Dwellers are people who were born in the Labyrinth.”

“Exactly,” replied Sarah. “Most dwellers live in the Outskirts of the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 11th floors.”

“Are all the Outskirts like the swamp?”

“No. They are independent pieces of land with various biomes,” Sarah replied.

“I meant dangerous and with terrifying monsters.”

“Kind of,” she replied. “It’s better near the jaws… I mean, the maze entrances. That’s where most of the cities and populated areas are,” Sarah explained patiently. “Except for the 5th floor. But it's hard to be certain, and it's not like any of us can enter the 5th’s Outskirts.”

Michael threw Sarah an annoyed gaze.

“Why?” Christopher asked.

“The 5th floor is locked to all those who weren’t born in it,” warned Michael with a stern voice. “They will kill anyone who tries to enter, even if it's just a random Author who got lost in the maze.”

Christopher frowned. The 5th floor sounded even worse than the swamp.

They finally passed through the wall’s gate and stepped into a small square beneath one of Aeymenchuk’s watchtowers. Tunnels extended from both ends, and the square buzzed with activity. Oddly dressed people moved back and forth, most of them forming small groups.

Christopher watched his surroundings and noticed thousands of ancient-looking runes carved on the stone floors and walls. They formed long sentences, some so long that they appeared to span the entire cave.

The runes looked oddly familiar.