The silence went on for what felt like hours.

  To Bert.

  So, realistically, a few seconds.

  The other two were still staring at the scenery, caught somewhere between awe and fear. Which one had the upper hand was difficult to say.

  Bert took a step forward.

  Leo snapped out of his trance and grabbed Bert by the sleeve, yanking him back.

  “Please, let me,” Leo said, folding his hand under his chin. “Let me do the talking. You only screw it up.”

  Bert nodded, slightly insulted, but stepped back.

  Leo felt the eyes burn into his skull. He really should have thought about what he wanted to say. How he opened this could mean either catastrophic, immediate death—or being too weak, which in the Maze was also immediate death.

  The silence stretched again.

  “Ehh…” Leo cleared his throat.

  Two men were staring him down.

  One cat was purring menacingly.

  Leo felt sweat run down his face.

  “Don’t—he’ll tear you in half, Leo!” Harlada hissed from behind him.

  “Statistically,” Leo whispered back—apparently stress made him verbose—“they do not belong here, so killing us is unlikely.”

  ***

  Almost a full minute passed.

  Leo glanced down at his arms. His legs. Still attached.

  He turned his head and looked Bert straight in the eye.

  Thumbs up.

  “Who are you?” Leo asked, keeping a careful distance from the towering man—far enough to feel safe, close enough to reach the door if things went badly.

  The man leapt to his feet.

  He punched a hole in a wall that didn’t exist, then dropped to one knee, flexing a bicep that could probably bend reason itself.

  Leo had to admit—it was impressive.

  “Reralt of Givia,” the man declared proudly.

  The three stared at him like unformatted disks.

  Reralt straightened, unfazed, and casually lifted a limp Narro with one arm, holding him up like a prized exhibit.

  “This is Narro, my bard,” he announced.

  Then, with great ceremony, he gestured at the others.

  “Ah,” Leo said, motioning for his companions to step closer.

  They shook their heads violently.

  “That,” Leo continued anyway, “is Harlada Houdini, our mage. And that’s Bouldering Bert—our rogue.”

  Reralt and Narro exchanged a look.

  Even the little black cat appeared to smirk.

  “There was… some confusion,” Leo added quickly, adjusting his glasses, “with attribute distribution.”

  Narro stepped forward, palms raised in the universal gesture of please don’t stab us.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “If I may ask,” Leo continued, “what are you doing here? All the groups we’ve seen are dimensional shifts—versions of ourselves. You’re… not one of those, are you?”

  “No,” Narro said calmly. “We’re looking for a Hat. It’s somewhere in this dungeon.”

  Bert tapped Leo’s shoulder. “Would that be the orange thing we saw earlier?”

  Before Leo could answer, Harlada snapped, her voice sharp as spellfire. “Nothing’s free in the Maze.”

  She tugged both their ears for emphasis.

  The cat purred ominously.

  ***

  “Is there some collateral we can expect in exchange?” Leo asked carefully.

  “What?” Reralt and Bert said at the same time.

  “What do we offer in exchange,” Narro translated. He rummaged through a pouch. “We have… some coins.”

  It jingled pathetically. Maybe forty.

  Bert lifted his own pouch—three times as heavy—and shook it. “Well, yes. But not enough.”

  “What if we help you progress?” Narro offered.

  The trio exchanged looks, then huddled together like conspirators at a very unconvincing tea party.

  “What if they’re lying?” Bert whispered.

  “Then we’re dead,” Leo said flatly. “Did you see the big one fight those monks? And they were competent.”

  “So what if they wait until we show them the orange thing and then kill us?” Bert added.

  Harlada nodded. “We need some kind of safety agreement.”

  “Ehh.” Reralt had somehow inserted himself into their huddle without anyone noticing. “I’m a hero,” he said proudly. “I’m bound to my word.”

  “That’s not enough,” Bert replied immediately.

  Harlada and Leo both turned to him, visibly disappointed.

  “What?” Bert asked—then, seeing Reralt’s expression, added quickly, “Ah.”

  ***

  “So,” Leo began, addressing Narro, “what can you give us as… safety?”

  “They don’t trust us,” Reralt complained, standing shoulder to shoulder with Bert. “Even with me—the hero.”

  “Reralt,” Narro said, rubbing his forehead, “come back to this side. Give them some privacy.”

  “But then I can’t hear them,” Reralt protested.

  “That’s the point.”

  Narro sat down cross-legged, forcing himself into negotiation mode. “So—the Maze resets after one group reaches the middle?”

  “Yes,” Leo said.

  “And after the reset, the layout remains the same?”

  “Yes,” Bert added.

  “So,” Reralt interrupted, “what if we help you progress, and then you tell us where the Hat is?”

  Narro grimaced. “In a maze?” he said dryly. “You’ll have to draw a map.”

  Harlada nodded slowly. “Best option we’ve got.”

  “So you trust us?” Bert asked, surprised.

  Reralt placed a massive hand on Bert’s equally massive shoulder. It was still somehow intimidating.

  “If not,” he said with a grin, “we’ll come and find you.”

  Bert swallowed audibly.

  Leo cleared his throat. “Then it’s settled. You help us progress to the next level; we show you the way to the orange Hat.”

  He glanced sideways. Harlada gave a curt nod.

  The deal was struck.

  Or, more accurately—everyone had just agreed to regret something later.

  ***

  Leo and Narro fell into deep discussion, sketching invisible diagrams in the air, trying to turn their agreement into something resembling a plan.

  Bert and Reralt, meanwhile, were thumb-wrestling. They had wanted to wrestle properly, but—very wisely—that idea had been talked down by everyone within surviving distance.

  That left Harlada alone with the Void.

  They stared at each other, mutual suspicion condensed into silence.

  “Are you there, mage?” Harlada asked.

  “Meow,” said the Void.

  “Figures.” Harlada sighed and sat down, pulling a strip of dried meat from her pouch.

  “Meow?” The Void climbed into her lap, clearly expecting tribute for this great honor.

  “I don’t even like cats,” Harlada muttered, sharing the food anyway.

  The Void purred contentedly.

  She didn’t particularly like humans either—but some arrangements were practical.

  A sudden cry shattered the calm.

  “AAAHHHHWWWW!”

  They turned.

  Bert clutched his thumb, bent at an unfortunate angle.

  Reralt stood with both arms raised to the heavens. “Victory!” he declared.

  “In the reset,” Narro began.

  “No,” Leo finished. “We’re not healed.”

  Narro tilted his head. “How many resets have you gone through?”

  Leo smirked. “You don’t want to know. The tutorial alone took us four attempts before we realized it was the tutorial.”

  “That was in the manual—” Narro stopped mid-sentence as Leo’s expression collapsed into shameful silence.

  Narro made a quiet mental note:

  Do not let Reralt brag about how we ‘walked’ through ours.