The deeper Miles pushed into the shifting maze, the more it fought him.
Walls leaned inward, whispering in low, scraping voices.
The floor rippled under his boots like he was running across the hide of some massive, sleeping thing.
Miles...
The voice slithered across the darkness.
He tightened his grip on the flashlight and pistol, sweat slicking his palms.
Another fork.
Three corridors.
All identical.
All wrong.
On the wall ahead, something new had been scrawled in a rush, finger-painted in something thick and black:
RULE #13: MEMORY IS A WEAPON.
His stomach twisted.
Another whisper, closer this time:
Miles... help me... please... I'm scared...
Kayla's voice. Weak. Breaking.
He picked the middle tunnel and sprinted, heart hammering.
The air grew heavier. Every breath felt like pulling iron filings into his lungs.
Around another bend, light flickered.
He burst into a small clearing — a dead-end room.
And there she was.
Kayla.
Huddled on the floor, sobbing into her hands.
He rushed toward her —
— and the world glitched.
Just for a second.
The floor pixelated.
Her outline twitched like a broken puppet.
Miles froze.
His instincts screamed at him.
He raised the flashlight, shining it full into her face.
Kayla looked up.
Only it wasn't her.
Her face... shifted.
Melted.
Reformed into something... other.
A gaping maw split her jawline too wide.
Rows of sharp, childlike teeth blinked at him.
"Stay with me," it gurgled in Kayla's voice.
Miles shot it between the eyes without hesitation.
The thing shrieked — a sound like metal ripping — and exploded into ash.
The room rippled again.
The walls laughed.
Miles staggered back, his vision swimming.
He leaned against the cold stone, heart threatening to jackhammer out of his chest.
The maze wasn't just trying to separate him from Kayla.
It was trying to replace her.
It was trying to make him question what was real.
Memory is a weapon.
He pushed off the wall and kept moving.
New signs had begun appearing, flickering in and out of visibility:
Trust no voices.
Every path lies.
She is not what she seems.
Miles gritted his teeth.
"I'll find her," he growled aloud.
"No matter what you throw at me."
The maze answered with another shift.
The ground lurched under his feet — gravity twisting sideways.
He stumbled, rolled, came up gasping...
…right into another corridor that was identical to the first.
Another voice.
Another sob.
Another "Kayla."
Waiting.
Only this time, she was whispering something different:
"Miles... I know the way out..."
He narrowed his eyes.
No mimic would bargain.
No trap so far had.
He raised the pistol again —
—and demanded:
"Tell me something only she would know."
The fake Kayla smiled sweetly.
"Your badge number. 0427."
His blood froze.
The code I used to save her...
But wait.
He'd never told her that.
Only he knew it.
He fired again —
— and the second mimic fell screaming into the black.
The walls screeched in rage.
Miles pressed forward, gritting his teeth against the dizziness.
The real Kayla was still somewhere ahead.
And he was getting close.
Close enough that the maze was starting to panic.
Good.
Let it.