Evil Bert crossed his arms and exhaled sharply.

  “This is getting tedious,” he said. “You two go deal with him.”

  Evil Leo blinked. “Deal with who?”

  “Their Bert,” Evil Bert replied. “He’s the loose end. Two against one—there shouldn’t be an issue.”

  Evil Harlada hesitated. “You’re sure?”

  Evil Bert waved a dismissive hand. “He’s predictable. Loud. Sentimental. Go.”

  They exchanged a glance, then turned and moved down the corridor, footsteps fading into the Maze’s soft hum.

  ***

  Bert was halfway down another passage when a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him sideways.

  “HEY—” he spun, axe already rising—

  —and froze.

  It was Bloodied Bert.

  They tumbled behind a jutting corner, out of sight of the main corridor.

  “What are you—” Bert started.

  Bloodied Bert shoved him further back, eyes wide, frantic. Bert misread it instantly.

  “Not cool,” Bert said, raising his axe. “We talked about this.”

  Before he could swing—

  A fireball erupted where they had been standing.

  Heat slammed into the corridor, air warping violently. Stone cracked. Flame roared past the corner, licking the walls and filling the passage with choking smoke.

  Bert stared at the scorched space they’d occupied a heartbeat earlier.

  Bloodied Bert looked at him.

  Then at the raised axe.

  Slowly, deliberately, he lifted two fingers to his forehead.

  Shaped them into an unmistakable L.

  Bert burst out laughing.

  “Oh,” he said. “That’s what you meant.”

  They didn’t hesitate.

  They charged.

  Down the corridor.

  Straight toward the fire.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  ***

  Bloodied Bert went first.

  No hesitation. No strategy.

  He charged straight through the smoke.

  Evil Harlada barely had time to react. Her staff flared uselessly as she tried to draw mana that wasn’t there anymore. The fireball had emptied her.

  “Wait—” she started.

  Bloodied Bert hit her like a battering ram.

  She went down hard, skidding across the stone.

  Evil Leo roared and lunged, sword flashing.

  “I hate Berts!” he screamed.

  The blade slammed into Bloodied Bert’s side. Blood sprayed. He staggered—

  —and kept going.

  Evil Harlada scrambled backward, staring at him, confusion breaking through the pain.

  “Is—” she gasped, “is this even the Bert we’re looking for?”

  Her question was answered by an axe.

  It buried itself cleanly in her forehead.

  She dropped without another sound.

  The axe vanished.

  Reappeared.

  Back in Bert’s hand.

  Bloodied Bert froze, eyes wide.

  “That,” he breathed, grinning despite the blood pouring down his chest, “is so cool.”

  “I know,” Bert said, somewhere behind him.

  He giggled.

  Together, they turned.

  Evil Leo was already backing away.

  “No—no, wait—” he stammered, sword wavering. “We can talk—”

  They didn’t.

  Bloodied Bert tackled him low.

  Bert’s axe came down once.

  Then again.

  Then it was over.

  Silence rushed in, thick and heavy.

  Bert lowered his weapon, breathing hard.

  Bloodied Bert stood beside him, swaying, smiling like he’d just discovered something wonderful.

  For the first time since that level in the tutorial, Bert felt very glad there were two of him.

  ***

  They rounded the corner together.

  The corridor opened just enough to show them the problem.

  Evil Bert stood in the middle of it, feet planted wide, weapon raised. One arm was locked tight around Harlada’s throat, hauling her upright like a shield. Her staff lay broken at her feet.

  “Stop,” Evil Bert snarled. “One more step and she’s dead.”

  Both Berts froze.

  Bloodied Bert swayed slightly, breath ragged. Bert tightened his grip on his axe—but didn’t raise it.

  “Easy,” Bert said. “No one needs to—”

  “I mean it,” Evil Bert cut in, eyes wild. “I will do it. Don’t think I won’t.”

  Harlada didn’t struggle.

  She met Bert’s eyes instead.

  Bloodied Bert stepped closer to Bert, just enough to lean in.

  He whispered something.

  So quietly that even the Maze seemed to lean away.

  Bert’s smile faded.

  The axe in his hand lowered an inch.

  Then another.

  He swallowed hard.

  “…Okay,” Bert said softly.

  He nodded once.

  Bloodied Bert nodded back.

  Together, without ceremony, they tossed their weapons forward.

  The axe clattered across the stone and slid to a stop at Evil Bert’s feet.

  They walked with their heads down towards Evil Bert.

  ***

  Evil Bert laughed. He let go of the paralysed Harlada and took a step forward toward the other Berts.

  Then he squatted to pick up the weapons.

  The axe—Bert’s axe—disappeared.

  Evil Bert looked puzzled.

  The axe reappeared in Bert’s hand.

  Evil Bert looked surprised, then shocked. "That is so cool." An expression of pain followed. Then he slumped toward the ground—an axe firmly attached to his face.