The three dual-wielders moved with eerie coordination, spreading out in a slow circle around Leo, Harlada, and Bert.

  Four blades glinted in the torchlight.

  No words.

  No expressions.

  Just silent, efficient murder closing in.

  Bert swallowed hard. “Okay… okay… we just need to hit first, right?”

  Harlada gave him a look that could have cut stone. “Bert, absolutely do not—”

  Too late.

  Bert charged and swung at Dual-Harlada, aiming squarely at her hood.

  She didn’t dodge.

  She didn’t parry.

  She just flicked one wrist.

  CLINK.

  Bert’s sword spun out of his hands like it had been fired from a catapult, sailing across the chamber and clattering into a corner.

  Bert stared at his empty hands.

  Then stared at her.

  Then at his hands again.

  “…Really?” he said grumpily.

  He took a single step back, puffed cheeks and crossed arms radiating the mood of a child told he couldn’t play anymore.

  Dual-Harlada didn’t even acknowledge him.

  The circle tightened.

  The three dual-wielders moved closer, blades raised, steps perfectly in sync.

  They were faster.

  Stronger.

  Better in every way that mattered.

  Harlada lowered her stance, ready to fight even if it was hopeless.

  Leo, however, raised both hands and blurted:

  “WAITWAITWAITWAIT—listen! We—we don’t want trouble!”

  Dual-Leo tilted his head a fraction.

  Leo continued desperately, “Really! We—we won’t be in your way! At all! Ever! We’re extremely easy to avoid! You clearly have… uh… bigger things to do!”

  Harlada hissed at him, “This is your plan?! Pleading?!”

  Leo whispered back, “Have you SEEN them? We cannot win this!”

  Dual-Bert took one slow step forward, blades tapping together in a calm, terrifying rhythm.

  Leo took a step back. “We can coexist! We’re harmless! We’re… we’re adorable!”

  Bert muttered, “Speak for yourself.”

  Leo added quickly, “Please don’t kill us.”

  The dual-wielders were now close enough that Leo could feel the whisper of air displaced by their blades.

  They didn’t slow.

  They didn’t hesitate.

  They were simply deciding how to carve them up.

  The Maze pulsed.

  Threat level: extreme.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Negotiation success chance: approaching zero.

  Leo’s voice cracked. “Oh gods… I think they’re deciding which order to kill us in.”

  Harlada steadied her grip on her staff. “Then we make them work for it.”

  Bert sighed. “Can I have my sword back first?”

  Dual-Harlada lunged.

  ***

  Dual-Harlada lunged.

  Her blade slashed across Leo’s arm — not deep, but enough to make him yelp.

  It was the first blow.

  The signal.

  Dual-Bert raised a hand.

  “Stop.”

  All three dual-wielders halted mid-step, blades poised like frozen lightning.

  Leo clutched his arm. “Ow—ow—ow—why—”

  Dual-Bert’s voice was calm.

  Flat.

  Efficient.

  “State your case.”

  Leo blinked. “Our… what?”

  Harlada stared. “You can TALK?”

  Dual-Bert didn’t blink. “Case. Make it. Now.”

  Leo nodded so fast his neck popped. “YES. Right. Case. Case. Talking. Talking is good.”

  Harlada muttered, “This is the stupidest timeline.”

  Leo inhaled sharply, then launched into the panicked monologue of a man absolutely certain he will die if he pauses for one second.

  “Okay! We—we absolutely promise NOT to go for progression! Ever! Never! As long as you three are in the Maze, we stay OUT of your way! We are not competition! We are… we’re like… Maze interns!”

  Dual-Leo’s eyes narrowed skeptically.

  Leo continued faster.

  “We won’t touch the center! We won’t touch the stairs! We won’t touch ANYTHING that looks like progression! You want the victory? Take it! Take all of them! We don’t— we don’t even LIKE stairs!”

  Harlada stared at him. “You absolute coward.”

  Dual-Bert lowered one blade. “Continue.”

  Leo gulped. “We are— we are harmless. Non-threatening. Pathetic, really. And we would like to remain alive, which is mutually beneficial to you, because—”

  He pointed at Bert.

  “—because YOU have a suggestion.”

  Bert, caught mid-thought, blinked. “Huh?”

  Leo glared. “Your logic! Say your logic!”

  Bert cleared his throat, puffed up his chest, and announced with absolute seriousness:

  “The most logical course of action…

  would be to let one of us live.

  One survivor.

  Least possible threat.

  Minimal resources.

  Best statistical outcome.”

  Dual-Harlada nodded faintly.

  Dual-Leo tilted his head as if running the math.

  Leo and Harlada turned slowly toward Bert.

  Then glared.

  Leo hissed, “WHY would you SAY that?”

  Harlada grabbed his collar. “We are trying to negotiate for all of us!”

  Bert shrugged helplessly. “Well—logically—one is safer than three!”

  Dual-Bert raised a hand again.

  “All three may live…

  if you remain irrelevant.”

  Leo’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Irrelevant! Yes! That is our specialty! We can do that! We are phenomenal at being irrelevant!”

  Dual-Leo sheathed one blade.

  Dual-Harlada did the same.

  Bert mumbled, “See? Logic.”

  Harlada did not respond.

  Instead, she sat down on the stone floor.

  Cross-legged.

  Back turned.

  She snatched Bert’s snack pouch off his belt.

  Leo did the same.

  Bert gasped. “HEY— those are my emergency Maze snacks!”

  Harlada opened a packet. “You almost got us killed.”

  Leo stuffed two into his mouth. “Snacks are compensation.”

  Dual-Bert watched, expression unreadable behind his deadly calm demeanor.

  “Your case is accepted,” he said finally.

  “Remain beneath notice.”

  The three dual-wielders turned.

  And walked away.

  Silent.

  Efficient.

  Utterly unstoppable.

  Harlada took another snack. “We need better friends.”

  Leo nodded, chewing. “Or better versions of ourselves.”

  Bert scowled, arms folded. “These were my cinnamon crisps…”

  The Maze pulsed softly.

  Agreement logged.

  Compliance expected.

  Irrelevance begins now.

  Harlada groaned. “I hate this place.”