They circled Bearded Leo gently, trying to lift him from his heap of beard and misery.

  Leo placed a hand on his arm.

  “You did good coming to warn us.”

  Harlada nodded. “It took courage.”

  Bearded Leo sniffed. “You… really think so?”

  “Yes,” Leo said.

  Bert added cheerfully, “Yeah, even though it was too late.”

  Leo and Harlada froze.

  Bearded Leo did not.

  His expression darkened.

  His beard bristled violently.

  “Too late?” he repeated.

  Bert blinked. “I— I just meant in a time-in-the-linear-sense— not a moral—”

  “IT WAS NOT TOO LATE!” Bearded Leo roared.

  Harlada stepped forward. “Bearded Leo, calm—”

  But he wasn’t listening.

  He jabbed a trembling finger at Bert, eyes blazing with a mix of rage, shame, and dramatic flair.

  “You!” he snapped. “YOU made that stupid logic speech! ‘Kill two of us, leave one alive’! Guess who ended up left alive?!”

  Bert opened his mouth.

  Closed it.

  Opened it again.

  “Coincidence?” he squeaked.

  “NO!” Bearded Leo exploded. “IT WASN’T!”

  He spun away dramatically, clutching his beard.

  “It haunted me! Your voice! Your awful logic! Your certainty! I couldn’t stop hearing it!”

  Leo sighed. “Okay, Bert, maybe don’t say anything for a mi—”

  But Bearded Leo whirled back toward them, eyes wet and wild.

  “And I wanted REVENGE!”

  Bert squealed. “WHAT?!”

  Harlada stiffened. “What did you do?”

  Bearded Leo burst into tears and confessed in one breathless scream:

  “I SENT THE RAT PEOPLE TO THE LEFT ON PURPOSE!”

  The cavern went silent.

  Leo blinked. “…But you told us to go left.”

  Bearded Leo wailed even louder.

  “I KNOW! BECAUSE I HOPED THEY’D BITE HIM FIRST!”

  He pointed at Bert with a shaking finger.

  Bert staggered back as if physically struck.

  “YOU TRIED TO GET ME EATEN?!”

  Bearded Leo crumpled again, burying his face in his beard.

  “I’M SORRY! I was angry! And tired! And traumatized! And emotional! And petty! And YOU ALWAYS SAY THE WRONG THINGS AND I SNAPPED!”

  Bert threw his arms up.

  “I COMPLIMENTED YOU!”

  “You said it was too late!” Bearded Leo wailed.

  Harlada pinched her temples.

  “Oh gods… we are being hunted… in a death maze… and the biggest threat is our own emotional instability.”

  Bearded Leo kept sobbing.

  “I just wanted A LITTLE revenge! Just ONE nibble! I didn’t expect a full rat assault!”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Bert whispered, horrified, “He weaponized directions…”

  ***

  Harlada put a hand on Bearded Leo’s shoulder.

  He flinched but didn’t pull away.

  “Bearded Leo,” she said softly, “you’re hurt. You’re exhausted. You need to stay here. If you do… we won’t harm you.”

  Leo nodded.

  “We’ll spare you. We’re still— all versions of the same person. We don’t want to fight.”

  Bert added, hopeful, “Yeah. Just… just stop trying to get me eaten?”

  Bearded Leo’s face hardened.

  He wiped away the last of his tears, stood tall, and his beard settled like a war banner.

  “No.”

  The trio blinked.

  “No…?” Leo repeated carefully.

  Bearded Leo’s eyes burned with grim certainty.

  “I won’t stop until Bert dies,” he said.

  Bert squeaked. “WHAT?! Why still me?! I thought we talked through this!”

  “You EXIST,” Bearded Leo snapped. “That’s enough.”

  Harlada’s face drained of color.

  “Bearded Leo… listen to yourself. You’re not thinking clearly.”

  “I am thinking very clearly,” he growled.

  “Bert lives, and memories of dual-wielders haunt me forever.

  Bert dies, and the world becomes a slightly better place.”

  Bert gasped. “That is VERY rude!”

  “TRUE, THOUGH,” Bearded Leo shot back.

  Leo raised both hands, voice trembling.

  “Okay — okay — everyone stay calm—”

  But Bearded Leo was already reaching for something beneath his cloak.

  A shard of metal. A glass vial. Something dangerous.

  Harlada stepped back, breath shaky.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “No, no… we’re not doing this. Not with our own.”

  The humming of the Wizards grew closer.

  Soft, eerie laughter echoed down the hall.

  Leo looked at Harlada.

  She looked at Leo.

  Then both looked at Bert — who stood frozen, wide-eyed, hands shaking.

  Bearded Leo pointed the vial directly at Bert.

  “THIS IS HOW IT ENDS!”

  Leo’s voice cracked.

  “We only have one choice.”

  Harlada swallowed hard, shoulders tense, eyes full of grief and dread.

  Bert whispered, horrified:

  “We… we have to kill Bearded me?”

  Harlada raised her staff.

  Leo raised his sling.

  And Bearded Leo stepped forward, rage and pain burning in his eyes.

  “We’re out of time,” Harlada said.

  The humming reached the doorway.

  And the trio made their decision.

  The kind no one ever wants to make.

  They prepared to kill him.

  Their own.

  ***

  Bearded Leo stood ready to fight, vial trembling in his fist, eyes burning with a twisted mix of rage and heartbreak.

  Leo and Harlada braced themselves.

  Bert trembled.

  Then slowly… very slowly…

  Bert sheathed his sword.

  He reached into his belt.

  And pulled out the poison dagger.

  The blade shimmered faintly green in the Maze-light.

  Harlada’s eyes widened.

  Leo sucked in a breath.

  Bearded Leo froze.

  Bert stepped forward, hand shaking, and held the dagger out.

  Not threateningly.

  Not defensively.

  Just… offering it.

  Bearded Leo stared at the weapon.

  His breath hitched.

  For a moment, all of his anger melted into something infinitely sad.

  He reached out, gently took the dagger from Bert’s hand—

  And nodded.

  No hatred.

  No malice.

  Just a tired, heavy acceptance.

  “…Thank you,” he whispered.

  Bert swallowed. “I… I’m sorry, okay? For everything.”

  Bearded Leo gave a faint, broken smile.

  “I know.”

  The Wizards’ humming drifted closer — drifting, dreamy, dangerously near.

  Harlada placed a hand on Bert’s shoulder and gently pulled him away.

  Leo looked at Bearded Leo one last time, voice soft.

  “We’ll remember you.”

  Bearded Leo chuckled weakly.

  “No you won’t.”

  Harlada managed a sad smile. “We’ll try.”

  The trio stepped past him, moving down the corridor.

  None of them looked back.

  None of them had to.

  Because just as they turned the corner, the last sound they heard was a soft whisper—

  A faint clink.

  The sigh of a man who had finally made his choice.

  And then a quiet, muffled thud as he sank to the floor.

  “I’m sorry.” Bert whispered through clenched lips. a silent prayer to whatever deity was listening.