Michael walked outside the den, his boots slowly sinking into the wet sand.

He took a deep breath, savoring the fresh, damp air, which was a stark contrast to the foul smell inside the den.

Flood season is here, Michael realized with a frown. He had always disliked the 3rd floor.

It wasn’t the ever-looming night, the endless sand dunes, petrified forests, or the crackling thunderstorms during flood season. It was the people. Most of the 3rd Floor was akin to a refugee camp, where diseases ran rampant among starving children.

Michael spat on the sand with disgust, trying to get rid of the metallic taste in his mouth. Meeting the swine always left his senses stunted and sick. It would take him a couple of hours to recover.

Bleargh!

By his side, Sarah couldn’t hold back her lunch and vomited her stomach’s contents. He sighed and put a comforting hand on her shoulders. She was shivering, and droplets of sweat glistened on her cold skin, reflecting the shy torchlight.

That’s why I insisted that she not come, and he sighed.

“Are you ok?” Michael asked.

“Y-Yeah, just give me a moment,” Sarah requested.

Michael nodded, kicked some sand to cover the vomit, and moved some steps forward to give her some time to collect herself.

Meeting with the Swine was always a hassle. Michael hated dealing with it. However, only some were as knowledgeable about the Labyrinth as the Swine. Besides, the Swine owed him big time.

They had been lucky this time. It was unusual for it to venture above the 21st Floor, so finding it on the 3rd Floor, just as they left searching for it, had been a stroke of good luck. Michael was glad he decided to check this den before moving towards the 21st.

He patted his chest pocket, feeling the familiar shape of his hand-rolled blue mint cigarettes–a specialty of the 3rd Floor–before glancing at Sarah.

It’s not worth the headache, he told himself.

Too bad nicotine patches couldn’t follow him into the Labyrinth. It was almost impossible to quit his addiction without them. He considered whether to take a long vacation on the Outside, forget about the Labyrinth for a couple of months, and get rid of his annoying tobacco addiction once and for all.

A sarcastic laugh escaped his lips. That wasn’t happening for sure.

A rustle of petrified leaves snapped him out of his thoughts. He jolted, alarmed, his eyes moving back and forward across the petrified forest, rapidly scanning his surroundings. It didn’t take him long to find the source of the noise.

Half-hidden beneath a large petrified tree, he spotted three figures standing in the rain, waiting.

There were two men and a woman, all dressed in similar all-black clothes. They bore the usual pale skin and dark hair that was common among the natives of the Ruined Floor.

The woman appeared to be leading, her aged eyes locking into Michael’s. It wasn’t a threatening look but a cautious one. Michael knew they didn’t want conflict. If they did, they wouldn’t have shown themselves and, instead, would’ve prepared an ambush further away from the Swine’s lair.

Michael didn’t let that stop him. He snorted loudly, alerting Sarah, and rapidly examined the other two individuals.

One was tall with a lanky build, aquiline nose, and sickly yellow skin, while the other had a rough, short beard and a strong build. His dark, cold eyes met Michael’s, staring at him with unparalleled intensity.

Michael had met eyes like those before. Cold, calculating. He knew the man was already thinking of every possible way to kill him and Sarah.

Eyes of a killer.

Michael wasn’t intimidated. There were many of those in the Labyrinth.

He scanned their bodies one last time before disregarding them. No matter how dangerous they were, their lack of Tales meant they weren’t Authors. Michael could easily take care of them if necessary.

“Are you ready to leave?” Michael asked Sarah.

“Yeah, we can go now,” she said, stumbling to her feet, slightly wary of the strangers.

Michael glanced at the aged woman and offered a respectful nod before entering the forest, Sarah trailing behind him.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Authors or not, if they dared to travel through the Ruined Floor during Flood season, they weren’t to be underestimated. It didn’t hurt to show them some respect.

“Who were they?” Sarah questioned.

“I’m not sure, but if they were going to meet the Swine, they can’t be that simple.”

“What kind of business could Dwellers have with the Swine?”

“Who knows,” Michael replied. “I hope they don’t end up like those poor bastards we saw inside.”

Sarah paled and cowered as the memories of that hideous place appeared in her mind.

“I’m sorry,” Michael apologized.

She shook her head, embarrassed.

“It didn’t know much about Lazarus,” she said, trying to steer the conversation.

“Indeed. That was disappointing,” Michael confirmed.

They advanced quietly, only the crunchy sound of the petrified leaves breaking beneath their boots breaking the silence. Every few steps, they would pause, straining to listen for any sounds they were being followed.

“What is it, exactly?” Sarah broke the silence once again.

Michael’s smile turned into a mocking grin.

“Why don’t you ask it directly?”

Sarah sighed.

“Is it a man, a woman, or…”

“Something else?” Michael guessed. “Probably the latter, but I’m not sure either.”

“Is it an Author?”

“No,” Michael replied firmly.

“What is it then?”

“I’m not sure,” he confessed. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“How did you meet it?” Sarah insisted, not willing to quit yet.

Michael didn’t answer, giving her a piercing look instead. Sarah’s nose twitched, annoyed, but she didn’t insist.

“That unique page is an issue,” she confessed, steering the conversation again.

“Yes, it is,” Michael replied, happy they had switched the subject. “But I’m not too worried. Even I have yet to reach the 44th floor. If Christopher ever has to worry the roaming titan, he will already be stronger than me.”

“But the Swine said the titan is not contained to the 44th,” Sarah insisted.

“Have you ever heard about a giant titan wreaking havoc on an upper floor?” Michael asked with a laugh.

Sarah shook her head.

“Exactly,” Michael continued. “Don’t worry, it won’t be an issue any time soon. It might never be an issue.”

A flash of white light tore through the sky, instantly followed by a sharp crack of thunder that drowned out the rain.

“Is it the first one?” Sarah asked, looking at the sky with her mouth open in surprise.

“It might,” Michael said, motioning for her to get closer to him. When they left the Hub two days earlier, they’d been warned that the first thunder of Flood season had yet to strike.

“How did the Swine know Christopher’s Prelude was going to be on the 3rd?” Sarah asked.

“No idea,” Michael confessed. “But he was certain of it.“

“His Prelude is gonna be hell,” Sarah complained.

Michael agreed with her.

Flood Season Preludes were already hard enough, but the grim news from the Swine pointed at something even worse. It might not reach the level of the 5th’s bloodbaths, but the consequences might be equally deadly.

Michael’s hope was that Christopher successfully avoided getting swallowed by the chaos. Otherwise, even if he didn’t die, he might be stuck there for a long, long time, maybe forever.

“Why haven’t the Keepers done anything?”

“It is a capital crime to interfere with a Prelude,” Michael patiently replied. “Anyone who interferes will condemn their whole family and friends executed.”

“What a ridiculous rule,” she said, kicking a petrified branch. “Why hasn’t anyone kicked the Keepers out yet?”

“The Witness is back,” Michael said, trying to distract her from her own dangerous thoughts.

“I hope no one takes it,” Sarah replied after a brief moment of silence.

Another flash of thunder split the sky, momentarily blinding them.

“Why does the Labyrinth even bother to offer that synopsis?” She asked.

“The Labyrinth is not the kinder of places,” Michael smirked.

“At least it doesn’t offer it to everyone,” Sarah continued. “Can you imagine what would happen if more people took it?”

Michael’s face flashed briefly with sorrow. When he became a drafted, he had at least been given a fighting chance. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for everyone. Inside the Labyrinth, some people had luck even worse than a Lazarus.

“Are you worried about Christopher?” Sarah asked, and Michael replied with a nod.

“Think we can warn him in time?”

“I hope not,” Michael admitted. “If he followed my advice, he’s already on the Labyrinth. Somewhere.”

Three new thunderous flashes streaked across the sky, electricity crackling through the air. The rain intensified, pouring down with such force that it almost stung, even through their thick leather armor.

Although the wind hadn’t picked up yet, they knew that the sand would whip against their skin mercilessly when it did, and the debris of petrified wood could become deadly missiles.

The storm was ramping up, and Michael knew things would turn dangerous soon.

“Let’s increase our pace,” he suggested as an aura of dim blue light covered his legs. “The sooner we arrive at the Hub, the better.”