The Maze pulse faded, leaving the chamber dim and quiet again.

  Harlada blinked once.

  Twice.

  Then straightened her back like a soldier stepping back into formation.

  “Enough,” she said sharply.

  Leo and Bert looked at her.

  “This is a run,” she continued. “A real one. And we have a chance. So we stop staring out the window and start thinking about survival.”

  Leo inhaled shakily, then nodded. “Right. Focus. Progression.”

  Bert dusted off his tunic. “Yeah. Let’s… let’s do this.”

  Harlada gestured toward the panoramic view of opponents outside.

  Her eyes sharpened.

  “First question,” she said. “Which groups do we avoid at all costs?”

  Bert raised his hand immediately. “Rat People.”

  “No argument,” Leo said. “Those things look like they bite for fun.”

  “And for nutrition,” Harlada added. “And possibly enjoyment.”

  They all shuddered.

  Leo pointed next. “The gnomes. We should avoid the gnomes.”

  Bert stared at them — tiny, bearded, sharpening utensils.

  A spoon sparked. he was noticed all three of them flipped him off.

  He nodded. “Yeah. They have violent energy.”

  Harlada frowned. “Do we have to avoid the wizards?”

  The trio looked at the red-hat wizards.

  One was petting the wall.

  One was licking the window.

  One was staring at their own hand with scientific fascination.

  Leo considered. “They look harmless.”

  Harlada sighed. “They might explode. Or they might explode us. I don’t trust that much confusion in one room.”

  “Okay,” Leo said. “Avoid Rat People, avoid Gnomes, avoid Wizards.”

  Bert raised a hand. “And avoid bearded Leo.”

  “Why?” Leo asked “that is probably the one we actually can beat?”

  “I have a bad feeling.” Bert told them, he felt something twist in his stomach.

  “Great” Haralda Laughed, “so lets avoid everyone.”

  “Best plan ever,” Bertl smirked.

  Leo Sighed heavily

  The maze pulsed amused almost:

  Run commencing 3 minutes.

  ***

  Harlada paced once, twice, and then snapped her fingers.

  “Okay. Think. We need cover. Somewhere dangerous that we can handle but our enemies won’t expect.”

  Leo’s eyes widened. “The acid trap.”

  Bert nodded rapidly. “Yes! The slow-moving doom wall! It hates everyone equally!”

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  Harlada pointed at both of them. “Exactly. If we get there first, we can use it to block the Rat People, the Gnomes, the Wizards—anyone following us.”

  Leo unfolded the crude sketch-map he’d made from memory — a sad, inaccurate drawing that looked more like a toddler’s attempt at architecture than cartography.

  “Okay,” he said, tapping a corner. “The acid corridor is two left turns, then a straight, then a right, then a straight that feels too long, then another—”

  Bert leaned over and squinted. “Is that a door or a potato?”

  Leo covered the corner. “Irrelevant. Point is, we remember the route.”

  Harlada took the map, squinted at it, then handed it back.

  “Fine. The Maze never changes the layout between resets, so if we run immediately we can get to the acid corridor before anyone else.”

  Leo nodded firmly. “We get there first. Trigger the trap early. Stay ahead of it. Then use it as a barricade.”

  Bert pumped a fist. “Let the slow wall of death do the work for us!”

  Harlada smirked. “For once, the Maze’s cruelty might be useful.”

  Leo packed away the map and stretched his legs.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this. Running straight toward acid as a strategy.”

  Bert shrugged. “Honestly? Feels right.”

  Harlada stepped toward the door as the torches dimmed and flared again with Maze-light.

  Run begins in 2 minutes.

  She inhaled deeply.

  “All right. The moment the doors open, we run left. No stopping. No hesitation. No distractions.”

  Bert nodded. “What about—”

  “No snacks, Bert.”

  He wilted slightly. “Fine.”

  Leo tightened the lightning bracelet on his wrist. “Okay. We know where to go. We know what to do. We have a plan.”

  Harlada cracked her knuckles. “Let’s make it work.”

  And the trio positioned themselves at the door, muscles tensed, ready to sprint the instant the Maze unleashed them.

  ***

  The torches flared white.

  The iron doors trembled.

  The Maze pulsed:

  Run #477986 commencing.

  The doors slammed open.

  “GO!” Harlada shouted.

  They bolted into the corridor.

  Leo immediately switched into panic-command mode.

  “BERT IN FRONT—!” he yelled mid-sprint.

  Bert stumbled forward. “WHY ME?!”

  “You detect traps!” Leo called after him.

  “I JUST LEARNED HOW!” Bert protested, nearly tripping over his own feet.

  “USE YOUR SKILLS!” Leo shouted.

  “WHICH ONES?!”

  “All of them!”

  Behind them, Harlada’s boots struck the stone with calm, rhythmic precision.

  She glanced back at the opening chamber. “I’ll guard the rear! If anything follows, I’ll handle it!”

  “Good!” Leo yelled. “Yes! That’s good! You handle the chasing nightmares!”

  “Lovely,” Harlada muttered. “I do love a good nightmare.”

  Leo, breathless but determined, whipped out his notebook as they ran.

  “I’ll improve the map!”

  Harlada stared at him. “While running?!”

  “Yes!” Leo yelled, already scribbling wildly as his feet pounded the floor. “We need a better layout of the Maze so this becomes easier!”

  “You’re writing down your own panic!” Bert shouted from ahead.

  Leo glanced at his notebook — shaky lines, wobbly arrows, something labeled “maybe hallway?”

  “…It’s better than the last map!”

  Bert stretched his arms wide as he ran, sweeping his eyes left and right.

  “Okay! Trap detection! Trap detection! TRAP DETEEEE—”

  He kicked a loose pebble.

  He screamed like a man witnessing divine wrath.

  Nothing happened.

  “…Oh,” Bert said. “False alarm.”

  “GOOD,” Leo wheezed. “KEEP DOING THAT!”

  Harlada called from behind, “Eyes forward, Leo!”

  Leo tried to run, draw, and breathe at the same time — a mistake obvious to everyone but him.

  The corridor forked ahead.

  The Maze pulsed:

  Competitors mobilizing.

  First contact: imminent.

  Leo shouted, “LEFT TURN! LEFT TURN!”

  Bert veered left with a yelp.

  Harlada flowed behind them, staff ready. “Nothing’s following—yet.”

  Leo scribbled the corridor shape into his notebook.

  It looked nothing like a corridor.

  But he still yelled proudly, “MAP IMPROVED!”

  Bert yelled back, “NO IT ISN’T!”

  “We’re getting there!”

  “No we are NOT!”

  Harlada hissed, “QUIET! Run!”

  The tunnel stretched on — deeper into the Maze, closer to the acid trap, and farther from anything resembling sanity.

  But for once?

  They had a plan.

  A terrible, dangerous, questionable plan—

  But a plan nonetheless.