The fog wrapped around them like a living thing—not just mist, but a creeping, sentient veil that twisted light and sound. It snaked along the ground, brushing their ankles like fingertips, muffling footsteps, hiding what might wait just beyond reach.
Kieran followed the girl closely, her form a steady silhouette ahead. She moved like she belonged here—confident, fluid, precise. Her long coat brushed brambles without catching; her feet found invisible trails where others would've tripped. Kieran stayed silent, saving breath. His heart thudded too loudly in his ears.
They passed through a corridor of crumbled statues, their faces worn away by time. Some looked like people—others, less so. He didn't linger on the details. One of them blinked. He didn't stop walking.
Ahead, the path split three ways. The girl didn't hesitate, turning left. Kieran followed.
Then—movement. From the right-hand path, three students sprinted into a clearing—breathless, wide-eyed. Before they could shout, the ground beneath them rippled like disturbed water.
"No—!"
Cracks spidered outward with a sound like splitting bones. A heartbeat later, the earth yawned open and swallowed them. Silence.
Kieran's mouth went dry. "She didn't even look back," he thought, staring at the girl who hadn't paused. He forced himself to keep up.
They moved through an overgrown archway choked with vines. Beyond, the terrain changed again—stone gave way to gnarled roots and moss covered ground. A narrow bridge of twisted branches stretched between two towers, high above a gorge blanketed in fog.
Kieran hesitated. The girl was already stepping onto it.
"You sure about that?" he called, voice low.
"If you're scared of falling, don't look down."
He exhaled, then stepped forward, hands out for balance. The roots shifted beneath his boots, groaning softly like they remembered every soul who'd fallen. Halfway across, he looked down. Nothing. Just fog.
When he reached the other side, his shoulders relaxed for one precious second. Then a sound broke the air—a hissing, sharp and wet. From the vines to their left, something tore free.
A creature, black and glistening, lunged from the shadows. Its body was wiry, like it had been stitched together from muscle and ash. Its face stretched too wide, teeth serrated and dripping with dark slime.
Kieran barely ducked in time. The girl moved faster—a blade flashing in her hand, silver slicing across the creature's face. It screeched and recoiled, vanishing back into the mist like smoke retreating from flame.
"Keep moving," she said.
They ran. Down sloping corridors, through chambers of fallen beams, past creeping shadows that flickered and whispered with voices that weren't their own. Eventually, she slowed and led him into a side alcove, half-hidden beneath collapsed rubble. Dust danced in the thin beams of light breaking through a cracked ceiling. The air was damp and metallic, like rain and rust.
Kieran sank against the wall, catching his breath. "You're fast with that knife."
The girl inspected the blade, wiping it clean on her sleeve. "You're still alive. That's what matters."
He studied her. Not out of suspicion, but curiosity. "You've done this before?"
She didn't answer right away. Her eyes flicked toward the opening—watching, listening. Then she turned her gaze on him.
"You ask a lot of questions."
"I think I've earned one or two after that thing back there."
She didn't smile, but her stare softened slightly. "Let's just say... this place doesn't surprise me the way it surprises others."
Before he could respond, she pushed off the wall and moved back into the hall. Kieran hesitated, then followed. He still didn't know her name. Didn't know why she'd helped him. But his gut said sticking close to her was smarter than walking alone.
Somewhere above them, something clicked—not mechanical, but organic. A heavy thud echoed once... then again. The maze was shifting.
And they weren't alone in it.