Why Does Yours Look Like That?

“No shit.”

Nathan stared at the looming labyrinth ahead, stomach tight. After what felt like hundreds of hours of monster insanity and break rooms that barely counted as breaks, this somehow felt worse.

“Will monsters emerge from there?” Kieran asked. His voice was calm, but his eyes tracked every line of the megalithic walls.

“I’m pretty sure we have to go in there,” Nathan said, eyes flicking back to the labyrinth. It stretched before them, dark and foreboding, like it was just waiting for them.

Kieran studied it with a small crease between his brows. “Does this mean… more puzzles?”

“Probably.”

“I do not like puzzles,” he muttered.

“Yeah, well, lucky for you, everything else has been sword-friendly.” Nathan huffed a tired laugh.

Kieran’s jaw shifted. “I prefer direct combat. I would like an exit.”

Nathan’s grin wilted a little. “Uh-huh. Yeah, well, we’ve got three percent left. This last three feels like it might try to kill us.”

“It will not kill us,” Kieran said without hesitation.

“…What?” Nathan blinked.

“You would have been dead long ago if that were the intent.”

Nathan thought about a retort and then stopped. Fair point. A really fair point.

Before he could respond, a section of the wall slid open with a soft thud, revealing a narrow entrance into the labyrinth.

Nathan stared at it. “How nice. Just for us?”

The audience roared overhead, a wave of noise that rolled and hit Nathan in the spine. Thousands of beings packed the stands, their eyes glued to the arena—humans, creatures, everything in between, leaning forward, waiting.

Kieran’s jaw flexed once, his gaze hardening. "Ignore them."

"Combatants, do move along, won't you? The audience is growing RESTLESS."

"SHUT IT. We're going!" Nathan turned to Kieran, a half-smirk on his face. “Pretty sure that was their idea of a welcome mat.”

Kieran stared at him.

"Time to go in." Nathan pointed.

Kieran nodded once. Nathan swallowed and followed, legs moving whether he wanted them to or not.

CHIME

Hint: The labyrinth is a multi-tiered structure with many traps. Stay vigilant, trainee.

“You don’t say.”

Kieran glanced over. “What?”

“It says there are traps. Again.”

A quiet exhale. “Of course.”

“Honestly? Might be nice if it shuts up that announcer guy.”

Kieran didn’t look amused. “I doubt we will be that fortunate.”

“Worth dreaming.”

They walked in.

The instant they crossed the threshold, the massive doors behind them slammed shut with a heavy, echoing thud. Nathan flinched and spun, but the seam was already sealed.

The roaring crowd that had followed them in? Gone.
Silence. Sudden and complete, like someone had sucked the world dry.

Nathan let out a slow breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Finally.”

Kieran’s expression didn’t change, but Nathan caught a faint ease in his shoulders. Just a flicker. Gone as soon as it appeared.

“Do you hear that?” Nathan whispered.

For a moment, the silence stretched.

Then—

A booming voice erupted through the labyrinth, rattling the stone.

“THE COMBATANTS HAVE FINALLY ENTERED!”

Nathan stared up at nothing. “Seriously?”

Kieran’s jaw clenched as he looked around the darkened space. “I, too, do not like the voice.”

Nathan shot him a grin. “Right? You've been listening to that for how long, and you can’t even understand it? It’s like overhearing a one-sided argument—you get the tone, you get the excitement, but no clue who’s winning or losing.”

Kieran’s eyes flicked toward him, then back ahead. “I do not need to understand it to know it is annoying.”

Nathan huffed a small laugh under his breath.

He started swiping at his screen. “Map… map… why…”

CHIME

Hint: Map function will be disabled while inside the labyrinth. Hone your skills, trainee.

Nathan stared at his greyed-out map icon. “Why? Why can’t you give me one break.”

He turned to Kieran. “We don’t get a map.”

“That is inconvenient. Reason?”

"Uhm, it says...I have to hone my skills."

Kieran raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I don't know either."

Nathan sighed and turned around to take in the room. “I thought we’d hit a trap immediately.”

“If there is a trap, it will not announce itself.”

Always the pragmatist. Nathan shook his head, more resigned than reassured.

There was light in the chamber, but no source Nathan could identify. It did not shine from above or below. It simply existed, a faint warm glow that felt wrong in a place like this. The walls rose high around them, black and slick like oil, smothering most of the light before it reached the floor.

No clear direction. Every footstep landed with a dull thud, the sound smothered as though the chamber itself was swallowing it whole. Somewhere deeper in the labyrinth, faint murmurs drifted through the warm air, too distant to understand and too wrong to ignore.

Nathan paused, his hand brushing the smooth wall. It was warm, almost unnervingly so, and when his fingers pressed in, the surface gave slightly, like skin responding to touch.

“What the hell,” he whispered. He rubbed his fingers together, the faint slickness refusing to go away. His stomach tightened.

Kieran had a sharp focus in his eyes as he scanned the room.
“You have a habit of touching things you should not. Refrain from touching the walls. This is not a normal structure.”

Nathan nodded quickly. “Right. Keep all hands and legs inside the ride.”

Kieran didn’t respond—his eyes were already tracing the corners and the ceiling again.

Nathan opened his screen out of habit. The map was still disabled. The path stretched ahead, but the labyrinth felt ready to change it at any moment.

He stared down the corridor beyond the one archway in the room. The surface shifted now and then, subtle but unmistakable, a pulse that made Nathan’s skin crawl.

“…Okay. Love this for us. Black oil hallway of nightmares.”

Kieran stepped beside him, close but not touching the wall, studying it with the same focus he’d use on a weapon.
“It moves,” he said quietly. “The wall.”

“Yeah,” Nathan whispered. “I’ve always wanted to be eaten by architecture.”

“This is the only path,” Kieran said.

“Yeah. Seems so.” Nathan’s stomach twisted. Of course it was.

Kieran was already moving ahead.

Somebody is eager to get this over with. Nathan jogged up beside him to catch up and they walked side by side.

Overhead, the announcer’s voice boomed, echoing down the corridor like he was shouting through a megaphone dipped in syrup.

“Ohoho! Look at them go. Into the MAZE OF TERROR they stride. Our confused combatants… WILL THEY MAKE IT OUT ALIVE? I wouldn’t bet on it!”

Nathan pointed straight upward.
“You don’t even go here. Shut up.”

Kieran glanced sideways. “The voice follows us.”

“I KNOW,” Nathan hissed. “It’s like being stalked by a gym coach who wants me to fail.”

They approached a stretch of corridor that made something in Nathan’s gut tighten. He stopped abruptly.

Kieran halted beside him. “What is it?”

“Feels off. Stand back.” He raised his arm.

The words came out sharper than he meant, and Nathan blinked.
Did I just give Kieran an order?

But Kieran had already stepped back without hesitation.
Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Okay.

His pulse steadied, instinct sliding into place.

He looked at the piece of wall that had caught his eye, and then at the floor.

“Trap,” Nathan said under his breath. He angled his blade forward and let it hover at different heights and moved it at different speeds as he walked the width of the hallway.

The wall beside him bulged an instant later.

A razor-thin blade shot out of the black surface, slicing through the space his torso had occupied a heartbeat earlier. Nathan had already pivoted away, dropping into a low stance with a fluidity that surprised even him.

He blew out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

CHIME

Skill Progress: Peripheral Awareness II → Peripheral Awareness III

“Oh, goody.”

Kieran stepped forward, studying the floor and the wall. He glanced at Nathan. “You avoided it.”

“I did,” Nathan said. “I’d like to avoid all future attempts as well.”

Kieran studied the wall again. “What triggered it?”

Nathan studied the length of the corridor. “This whole stretch is rigged.”

“What?”

“This whole section is one giant trap gauntlet.”

“We have been through them before.” Kieran paused, studying Nathan. “How can you tell without the map marking the trap locations?”

Nathan hesitated, staring down the corridor.

Something in his body aligned, a quiet certainty settling before thought.

“I… just can.”

The words felt strange leaving his mouth—not uncertainty, but the quiet shock of realizing he was right. The same sharpened awareness he’d felt ever since those skills started leveling, finally clicking into place.

Another faint ripple rolled along the wall, timed a little too perfectly with his movement.

Nathan pointed at it. “I hate that. Just saying.”

Kieran looked at him again, the smallest shift of focus.

Nathan let the wall settle, then looked down the length of the corridor again.

“It has a pattern. I’ll figure it out.”

He inhaled, grounding his stance.

A faint tug in his chest—
not danger this time.
Anticipation.

The corridor wasn’t reacting randomly.
It was waiting for something from him.

“…okay,” Nathan murmured. “Let’s test something.”

He lifted his foot an inch and shifted his weight left.

The wall ahead rippled.

Shifted back to center—
the wall stilled.

Shifted slightly right—
a ripple rolled along the opposite side.

Nathan’s pulse kicked. “It’s not pressure plates. It’s alignment. The whole hallway is keyed to movement patterns.”

Kieran stepped in just behind his shoulder. “Explain.”

“If I shift suddenly or break balance, the walls respond. But if I move centered—smooth, steady—the trap doesn’t activate.”

Kieran considered this, eyes narrowing. “Predictable.”

“Yeah,” Nathan breathed. “In a homicidal Roomba kind of way.”

He placed one foot forward—slow, measured—keeping the pressure even.

No ripple.

Another step.
Still nothing.

“The walls mirror instability,” Nathan said quietly. “If I lunge, it lunges. If I wobble, it cuts. But if I don’t give it a movement—”

“It cannot act,” Kieran finished.

Nathan blinked, startled at the little jolt of satisfaction that shot through him. “Exactly.”

Kieran nodded once. “Then you lead.”

Nathan swallowed.
Oh.
Asking me to lead?
Okay. Okay, sure. No pressure.

He took a gliding step—controlled, steady.

A low murmur rolled through the walls, almost like disappointment.

The announcer’s voice flared to life again. “Ohoho! WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! Our combatants appear to be… thinking. HOW UNEXPECTED!”

Nathan muttered, “I hope you choke.”

Step.
Balance.
Breathe.

The walls twitched once in warning but stayed dormant.

Nathan risked a glance back.

Behind him, Kieran adjusted his pace—
precise, controlled—
matching Nathan’s movements step for step.

Of course.
Kieran looked steady as ever, not even a hint of strain, just shadowing Nathan’s rhythm like it was second nature.

A short, startled laugh almost bubbled up.
Perfect. Effortless. And he’s following me?

Nathan swallowed it down and faced forward again.

The corridor became a rhythm. Shift too fast and the walls rippled; stay balanced and they hesitated.

Easy.
Weirdly easy.

And then—

His next step hit solid, unmoving ground.
Kieran reached it a breath later.

Behind them, the hallway shuddered once, like a beast annoyed it had missed its meal.

Nathan exhaled shakily. “Okay. One hallway down. Loved that journey. Five stars.”

CHIME

Skill Progress: Logic Recognition III → Logic Recognition IV

Nathan stared at the notification for half a second. “Sure. Why not.”

Kieran sheathed his blade.

Nathan glanced at him—steady, unreadable as always, already waiting for Nathan to move.

Kieran nodded once. “You are more suited to this place. Keep leading.”

Right. Leading. That’s me now.

He straightened. “Alright. Next place. Before the walls get ideas.”

***

After the corridor, there was a sequence of square chambers that never seemed to end. Some were small, some were massive, all of them equally unpleasant.

Every door led to something new. Tilting floors, sliding walls, rotating platforms, and traps that fired off like they were running on spite instead of mechanics. Some rooms sped time up. Others slowed it down just enough to make Nathan question whether reality had decided to lag.

But still no monsters.

Just puzzles stacked on puzzles stacked on traps, each one basically saying Nathan, figure this out or the building will eat you.

Whatever that meant.

Kieran followed close behind. Silent. Increasingly offended that none of it required a sword.

The chamber ahead hissed open, the walls sliding apart like it had been waiting for them.

CHIME

Timer Initiated
Time Remaining: 00:12

Nathan froze. “Twelve seconds for what? What am I even—”

He shifted his weight wrong.
The timer nosedived to 00:07.

“Oh COME ON.”

Kieran couldn’t see the countdown, but he stepped closer immediately when Nathan’s breathing spiked. “Draegor. You will solve it.”

“The room is threatening me!”

“I am sure that makes sense to you.”

Nathan hit another tile.
The counter froze at 00:02… then smugly rolled back up to 00:12.

Kieran’s brows twitched. “You repeated a sequence.”

“Oh. So the room likes pattern behavior. Great. Love that for me.”

He smacked the final tile.
Door unlocked.

They barely had time to step through before the next chamber lit up beneath Nathan’s boots. Another timer snapped down like a judge slamming a gavel.

CHIME

Timer Initiated
Time Remaining: 00:30

Kieran scanned the floor. “What does it want?”

“No idea!”

Nathan reached toward a rune—
the timer dropped instantly to 00:10.

“How?! I didn’t even touch anything!”

He slapped a random symbol out of spite.

All tiles flashed blue.
Door unlocked.

Kieran stared. “…Did you know that would work?”

“No. I’m being bullied by geometry.”

Overhead, the announcer cackled:

“OHOHO! HIS METHODS ARE DEEPLY DISTURBING, BUT VERY ENTERTAINING!”

Nathan flipped him off without looking up.

The next door slid open.

CHIME

Choose

Nathan groaned. “Choose? What if I refuse?”

“Refuse what?”

“It says I have to choose.”

"A door?"

"Yes."

"Just do it, Draegor."

"Fine. Fine."

He tapped the left door.

The right door immediately set itself on fire.

He pointed. “THAT feels like punishment.”

They slogged into another choice chamber.
Two doors.

Nathan picked the flower door.

The skull door opened instead.

Nathan threw his hands up. “WHY.”

Kieran murmured, “I would have chosen the skull.”

“Oh, of COURSE you would—”

The flower door slammed shut behind them like it agreed.

Nathan glared. “Stop taking his side.”

A bridge materialized next—just a narrow plank suspended over a void so deep Nathan felt emotionally attacked.

“Hard pass,” he whispered.

CHIME

Hint: Maintain balance, trainee.

Kieran observed the endless drop. “Do not fall.”

“Wow,” Nathan muttered. “Inspirational.”

He stepped on the bridge.
It wobbled like it had a personal grudge.

“Oh. It hates me.”

Kieran stepped on behind him.
The bridge steadied. Just slightly, like even the architecture respected him more.

“Of course it likes you,” Nathan muttered.

He moved slowly—every shift smoothing the tilt until he found a rhythm.
When he hesitated, the planks pitched wildly.

Kieran grabbed the back of his tunic. “Do not test the edge.”

“I WASN’T TESTING ANYTHING, THE EDGE TESTED ME.”

They reached solid ground.
Barely.

The bridge snapped back into existence behind them like it was offended.

Before he could even finish glaring at it, the next chamber lit with floating lines drifting in patterns that made his eyes ache.

CHIME

Hint: Timing required

“What does that mean—oh SHIT MOVE—”

A glowing line sliced the air near his face.

Kieran pivoted cleanly as another whipped past his ribs.

Nathan watched the flow. Something clicked.

“It’s like traffic—wait for the gap, move on the shift.”

Kieran muttered, “I prefer enemies I can see.”

“Bold of you to assume we won’t get those too.”

Nathan stepped into the shifting maze.
The lines parted around him like he’d practiced it.

Kieran followed exactly in his footsteps.

Halfway through, one beam pulsed bright—

Nathan shoved Kieran aside and dropped under it.

Kieran blinked, startled. “You anticipated it.”

“I’d rather not be diced by glowsticks, thank you.”

The maze spat them out…
…right onto vibrating stone.

A low growl rolled through the floor.

Nathan whispered, “Oh no. I know that sound.”

Kieran exhaled in relief. “Finally.”

The ceiling cracked open.
A massive bone-plated beast thudded down, eyes too many, patience too little.

“Combat room,” Nathan groaned. “Of course.”

Kieran surged forward like someone had returned his favorite toy.

Nathan didn’t freeze.
Before he even thought, he moved—perfect angle, perfect distance.

“Left flank! Defenses drop when it pivots!”

Kieran didn’t question it—struck immediately.

Steel hit exposed tendon.
The beast shrieked.

Nathan rolled under its next swing like his body had already solved the attack.

Kieran shattered its core.
The creature dissolved.

“Efficient,” Kieran said.

Nathan panted. “I hate how normal that felt.”

They stepped forward—

—and the spiral room snapped into existence.

Panels whirred. Tiles rotated.

Nathan stepped—

The floor lurched violently beneath him.

“Oh no no NO—”

A barrier slammed up between him and Kieran.

Kieran hit the wall once. “Draegor!”

Nathan winced at the echo. “I’m fine! Very enclosed but FINE.”

CHIME

Hint: Trainee must proceed alone

“Of course,” Nathan muttered. “Why wouldn’t I.”

The spiral path began to rotate.
Tiles slid unpredictably, like a broken treadmill designed by a bored demon.

Kieran’s voice carried faintly through the barrier: “Your steps—keep them aligned as before.”

Nathan snorted. “Look at you giving puzzle advice.”

“I am not enjoying it.”

“Neither am I!”

He ran.

Tiles spun—jerked—dropped a foot under him.
His body adjusted before he consciously processed it, instinct snapping tight.

He hit the end tile—

The barrier dropped.

Kieran stepped in from the adjoining path, relief flickering across his features before he smothered it.

Nathan blew out a shaking breath. “That was awful.”

Kieran nodded. “You handled it.”

CHIME

Skill Progress: Logic Recognition IV → Logic Recognition V

CHIME

Skill Max Level Achieved
Logic Recognition V

Nathan stared. “Great. Logic maxed. Perfect timing actually—because I’m about to lose mine.”

He clapped once. “Next room. Before this one tries anything.”

They stepped—

CHIME

Rest Interval Initiated
Time Allocated: One hour

Nathan stared at the familiar prison-cell room.

“…Didn’t think I’d ever be happy to see this place again.”

***

The moment the break room materialized, Nathan all but collapsed onto the wooden bench, exhaling like his bones had finally decided they were done pretending to cooperate.

Kieran wordlessly retrieved two bowls of gruel from the tray. He handed one to Nathan without ceremony.

Nathan stared at the food.
“My favorite. Beige sadness.”

Kieran didn’t smirk, but something softened at the corners of his expression as he sat across from him.

Nathan poked at the gruel and pulled up his screen.

Tutorial Progress: 99%
Overall Progress: 0.8%

The decimal point hollowed him out.

Oh.
Oh, that’s… that’s bad.
That’s really, really bad.

There was no way to deny it anymore. He had to accept the facts.

This looked like a loading bar quietly whispering,
Congrats, you beat the prologue.

He’d been waiting for this. Dreading it.

He looked up.

I have to tell him now.

Kieran was eating mechanically, clearly deep in thought. That had been happening more and more lately, ever since he read the entrance sign in the village.

Ever since Nathan dropped What’s Aevor? like the world’s largest idiot grenade. The moment he accidentally exposed the biggest possible tell that he wasn’t Mason Draegor.

And Kieran… hadn’t confronted him.

Not once.

Nathan swallowed. “Uh… sir?”

Kieran’s eyes lifted. Calm. Steady. Focused on him in that quiet, evaluating way that always made Nathan feel seen in ways he wasn’t remotely prepared for.

Nathan cleared his throat. “So… I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?”

Nathan exhaled slowly. “We’re at ninety-nine percent on the tutorial progress bar. I assumed the tutorial ended—boom, seam opens, we go home, or back to the others, or… something. But the numbers don’t add up. If we’re this close to finishing and the overall progress is still basically nothing, then…”

He looked down at the floor.

“…I think it keeps going.”

He waited for Kieran to laugh at him, dismiss him, tell him he was being dramatic.

Kieran didn’t.

He set his bowl aside, elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely, the posture he used when something mattered.

“I have been thinking the same,” he said.

Nathan blinked. “You have?”

Kieran nodded once. “This place…” His eyes narrowed slightly. “It is not malicious. Not truly. It has tested us. Trapped us. Exhausted us. But it has not tried to kill us. Not even once.”

Nathan blinked, startled.

“But we almost—”

“No.” Kieran cut in, calm but certain. “We have faced death before. Real death. This is different.”

He leaned back slightly, gaze drifting toward the wall. “It has been tedious. Maddening. But always precise. Controlled. As though the danger is… contained.”

Nathan swallowed. “Like a barrier.”

Kieran tilted his head. “A barrier?”

“Yeah.” Nathan tapped his fingers lightly on the bowl. “We’re inside something that lets us get hurt, but not… really hurt. It keeps everything just shy of actual danger. Like the whole tutorial is wrapped in a… safety field? I don’t know what you’d call it here.”

Kieran considered that for a long moment. That quiet, assessing stare.

“Yes,” he said finally. “That is what it feels like. As though the threat is permitted only to a point.”

“Which means someone designed it that way.”

“Designed, yes.” Kieran’s expression shifted. “Which is what has made me curious.”

“Curious?”

Kieran nodded.

Nathan waited, since it seemed like Kieran was gathering his thoughts.

Kieran set his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. The intensity in his face softened—not by much, but enough that Nathan almost forgot how to breathe.

“I have thought about our situation much,” Kieran said. “Since you read the sign. Legacy, Aevandor, and all that.”

Nathan’s chest went cold. He's bringing it up now?

Kieran continued, voice quieter now. “There are things about this place that are… familiar.” His gaze drifted, thoughtful. “The charms, traditions. The word Aevandor sounding so similar to Aevor. They feel… derived. Like echoes of home.”

Nathan’s breath hitched.

“I believe we are still within the Hollow Gate dungeon.”

Nathan leaned forward.

“Hollow Gate,” Kieran muttered. “It is ancient. There have always been rumors about it being the cradle of the kingdom, perhaps even the world. Hidden areas. Unmappable places. Places that no one could reach.”

He looked at Nathan. “Until you. You, who can see… seams. Who can even travel through them. Into areas like this one, cut off from everything else, where time can run differently…” He glanced aside, jaw tightening.

He paused.

Nathan’s face was flushed; even if he wanted to speak, his mouth felt too dry to get anything out.

“And time, as even you have mentioned before,” Kieran said, eyes lifting again. “If it moves slower here, then when we return to the others, it may feel as though no time has passed at all. If it moves faster… then it has already been months. Years.”

“Years?” Nathan managed.

“If,” Kieran corrected gently. “Only if. But until we leave this place, there is no way to know which it is.”

Nathan rubbed his hands over his face. “That’s… a terrifying thought.”

“The whole reason we entered Hollow Gate was to find a relic. A weapon. To end a war before it began.” He held Nathan’s gaze. “The words Mason Draegor used.”

Oh, fuck. Do I say something?

To Nathan’s relief, Kieran continued.

“Something no one has found in all recorded expeditions. What we may be looking for could exist within one of these spaces. Perhaps... there is a trial coming.”

"A trial?"

Kieran considered for a moment. “I believe whatever comes after this tutorial is worth finding out about. Designed. By whom? When? And for what purpose?"

A trial? He would see it that way, wouldn’t he? Like this whole thing is just another obstacle to overcome, another mountain to climb. Meanwhile I’m over here barely holding myself together.

He knows I’m not Draegor… right? He has to. He has to know something’s wrong. Then why is he saying all this? Why is he sharing it with me like—like it matters what I think?

Why isn’t he afraid? Why am I the only one terrified out of my mind?

Fuck, I haven't said anything in so long. Was he being rhetorical? Say something, anything!

“You’re… not afraid?”

Nathan wanted to smack himself. Afraid? Kieran afraid. Shoot me now.

Kieran’s eyes softened, only slightly. “Afraid? No. Curious? Yes.”

"Right, afraid isn't your style."

Kieran’s mouth tugged in the faintest smile, the kind Nathan had seen before, just never directed at him. “You, you panic. Loudly. Even when you’re quiet.”

Nathan gaped at him. Speechless.

Then he started laughing. He laughed so hard his sides hurt. “I can’t argue with that.”

Kieran let Nathan collect himself before continuing. “This place only seems to respond to you. The messages you see. Objects. The dungeon itself. You have done well.”

“Uh… thanks.”

“Whatever comes after this,” Kieran said, voice steady, “we’re in it together.”

What in the world has gotten into this man? Something in the prison oatmeal?

“Yes,” Nathan managed. “We… have made a pretty good team.”

“I need a map,” Kieran said.

“A map… the map? My map.” Nathan’s heart sank. Oh. “If it ever decides to come back, that is.”

Kieran’s mouth pulled again, just slightly. “Relax. It was a joke. We have made a good team.”

Seriously, are we both going insane?

“A ha ha… good one, sir. Very… funny. Yep.”

CHIME

Rest Interval Ending

Nathan froze.
“…Of course. Perfect timing.”

Kieran stood smoothly. “We continue.”

“Yeah,” Nathan muttered. “Almost there. Totally not horrifying at all.”

***

The room dissolved around them.

Revealing a cavern so vast it made Nathan’s stomach drop. The ceiling vanished into shadow, broken only by shafts of pale, unnatural light pouring down in wide columns. Every sound echoed, soft at first, then layered, like the air itself was holding its breath.

"Are we still in the labyrinth?"

"Yes."

Nathan whispered, “Okay. That feels… boss-like. Or guardian, I guess.”

Beside him, Kieran drew his sword without hesitation. “Good.”

A distant rumble rolled through the space.

CHIME

Objective: Endure until synchronization threshold is met

Nathan stared at the words, his stomach tightening.
Synchronization threshold? With what? With who? Why does that sound like I’m pairing with Bluetooth in hell?

“Endure?” He grimaced. “Not defeat? That already sounds worse.”

Endure meant time.
Endure meant waves.
Endure never meant mercy.

Before Kieran could ask, the announcer’s voice cracked overhead, far too loud for a cavern. Thrilled. Mocking. Like a man who had bet on bloodshed.

“OHOHO! THEY HAVE RETURNED. The labyrinth grows restless. Will they entertain us or disappoint us again? Only pain will tell!”

Nathan groaned. “I’m begging you, stop talking.”

CHIME

Added: Giganteus Wyvern
Classification: High-tier aerial predator
Behavior: Coordinated strike patterns; escalating aggression

Nathan’s breath hitched. “Wyvern?”

A massive shadow swept across the cavern.

The air pressure dropped so suddenly his ears popped.
The ground trembled.

“Wyvern?”

A piercing screech split the air, then another, then a cascade of them until the cavern vibrated.

Shapes dropped out of the bright haze above, wings jagged, tails dragging hooked bone. Drool pattered against the stone and hissed, eating tiny pits into the floor.

“Those,” Nathan pointed, “those are wyverns!”

CHIME

Hint: Acid wyvern variation. Exercise caution, trainee!

A dozen wyverns spiraled down in tightening circles.
Wingspans twenty feet across.
Predators built to unmake things.

“Too many,” Nathan croaked.

Kieran adjusted his stance. “Then reduce the number.” His posture sharpened instantly, like he’d stepped into a battle he already knew the rules of.

“Super helpful note, thank you.”

The first wyvern dove.

Nathan rolled aside as a jet of acid carved a molten trench through the floor. Stones hissed. The air reeked like burning batteries and swamp water and despair.

Kieran’s blade flashed, slicing across a wing joint. The beast screeched, recoiling violently.

“Do not let them circle us,” Kieran warned.

“Sure, I’ll just put in a formal request.”

But Nathan had learned the rhythm by now. No mana needed. Pattern. Timing. He darted left, letting an acid spray whistle past.

Kieran split another jaw.

Another shriek rippled overhead.

Nathan followed the movement, then froze.

Something gleamed higher up the cavern wall.
A stone platform.
Above it, floating gently, was an object shaped like a trophy carved from light.

That looks like end game.

The cavern suddenly felt impossibly tall—towering now that he needed to climb it.

Nathan jabbed a finger upward. “Up there. That has to be it.”

Kieran dodged a tail strike and lifted his gaze. “Has to be what?”

“A puzzle. To get there. Look—chains, platforms. It’s a vertical climb.”

Metal chains hung from the ceiling, connected to staggered slabs of stone.

The whole structure zig-zagged up the cavern wall like a half-finished scaffolding—vertical, uneven, and definitely not built with human survival in mind.

Of course. Why not pile trauma on trauma.

CHIME

Hint: Environmental traversal required

Nathan threw his hands up. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“Sir, I need to get up there!”

A wyvern slammed into a column near them. Dust rained down.

CHIME

Added: Supplementary Combatants
Classification: Previously encountered units
Behavior: Reinforcement escalation protocol activated

Suddenly more monsters started arriving. Their old friends from the arena. Cyclops, Minolisks, Broluks, Orcs, even the Gelsies started converging on their position.

“You’re kidding me. You have to be kidding me. Who programmed this.”

Kieran tracked the beasts with an unflinching gaze. “You climb. I defend.”

Nathan hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Kieran alone.

Kieran didn’t even look back. “Go, Draegor. You are the only one who can activate objects in this place. It recognizes you.”

“Right. I’ll make it fast.” Nathan sprinted, cleaving his way through lesser monsters as he made for the puzzle.

He reached the first chain-lift, dodging another acid spray.
The slab lurched the moment he jumped on, swinging wildly.
Chain links groaned under his weight, metal fibers snapping taut like nerves.

Nathan flattened himself against the stone.

The chain-lift jerked hard, rising only halfway before clanging to a stop.

Nathan blinked upward. Another slab hovered above him, tilted sharply to one side. A long metal bar protruded from its underside, shaped like a lever.

“Oh good. Interactive death.”

CHIME

Hint: Balance redistribution required

The slab beneath him dipped suddenly. Nathan yelped and clung to the chain.

Okay. So weight on this one lowers it. The one above probably rises if this one drops. Or it flips. Or it kills me. Great.

He edged toward the platform’s rim. The slab tilted further. Above him, the upper slab rotated, bringing the lever into perfect alignment.

It lined up for a heartbeat—his only window.

A timed alignment puzzle.

Nathan breathed out. “Fine. Be a puzzle. I’m smarter than a rock elevator. I think.”

He jumped. His fingers caught the lever. The upper slab snapped upward like it had been spring-loaded. Nathan swung hard, legs flailing, then hauled himself onto it.

The instant his foot landed, runes lit along its edges.
The slab rotated ninety degrees.

Tick.
Tick.
Tick.

A merciless metronome.

Nathan slapped both hands down. “Are you kidding me.”

The runes pulsed.
Rotate.
Pause.
Rotate.
Pause.
A pattern he could time.

CHIME

Hint: Observe rotation interval. Proceed during pause phase.

“Yeah I got it, thanks.”

He waited for the pause, then bolted across the slab to a narrow stone beam jutting from the cavern wall. It trembled under him, swaying.

A second chain-lift dangled ahead, not attached to any visible mechanism. It drifted in a lazy arc from the wyverns’ wingbeats.

Oh perfect. A platform controlled by monsters actively trying to kill us.

He waited for a wyvern to sweep by. The gust pushed the lift toward him.

“Timing. Just timing. Nothing but timing.”

He jumped.
His boots hit the platform.

It lurched, but he rode the movement and launched to the final slab in one motion.

That was nuts.

Below, Kieran took on an immense horde alone.
His roar echoed off the stone, followed by the heavy crash of something enormous hitting the ground.

Nathan couldn’t let him down.

Move it, Nathan. Come on. You got this.

He scrambled up onto the next rotating platform. It spun immediately.

A wyvern skimmed close enough that the wind slapped him sideways.

“Oh come on.”

Another wyvern swooped at him, jaws wide.
Nathan slashed its eye.

It shrieked and veered off.

“Draegor, keep climbing!”

He pushed to the final slab.

The wyverns tightened their spiral.
Acid sizzled across the stone.

The system wanted him nervous.
Which meant he was close.

He reached the top platform, panting.

The pedestal pulsed at the center, each beat of light rolling through the air like a countdown.

His arms trembled violently; he nearly missed the final grip.

CHIME

Skill Progress: Peripheral Awareness III → Peripheral Awareness IV

“Draegor,” Kieran shouted. “Now.”

Somehow, that grounded him more than the platform beneath his feet.

“I know!”

Wyverns screamed.
The announcer cackled.
The cavern quaked.

He jumped onto the pedestal.

The glowing trophy was hovering higher.

CHIME

Skill Max Level Achieved
Dodging III
Basic Footwork III
Basic Balance III
Evasive Recognition III
Sturdy Knees III
Improved Grip III
Logic Recognition V
Peripheral Awareness IV

Nathan blinked. “Maxing out because I’m constantly almost dying. Perfect.”

Above them, the announcer groaned. “BOO. NO BLOOD. NO TRAGEDY. YOU TWO ARE RUINING MY SHOW.”

"SUCK IT, BITCH!"

He reached for the trophy—
If this isn’t the end of the tutorial, I'm suing somebody. Magically. Legally. Emotionally.
—and touched it with his middle finger tip.

FLASH

***

They were standing in the square in front of the obelisk again.

Quiet.
Empty.
Exactly like the moment they'd first arrived.

CHIME

**TUTORIAL COMPLETED**
Overall Progress: 1%
Well done, companions!

Nathan blinked. “Well. That feels… unbelievably anticlimactic.”

For a second, Nathan wasn’t sure whether to laugh or collapse.
They’d actually finished the tutorial.

CHIME

Trainee is now fully synchronized
Notice: Tiered skills will be available during protected training scenario

Nathan frowned at the sky. “That means nothing to me. Why would you tell me that.”

CHIME

Reward Issued: Weapon Augmentation
Sword: Edge Stability I
Sword: Durability I

“Oh! I actually understood that one!”

CHIME

Reward Issued: Adventurer’s Packs (2)
Includes: Provisions, tools, whetstone, five healing salves, water filtration stones, reinforced cloaks, weapons

Nathan sighed. “I guess we’re going on a road trip.”

CHIME

Map Expansion Unlocked
Tutorial boundary removed
Local area integrated into greater region

Nathan’s stomach dropped. “Boundary removed? You mean the invisible dome bubble wall thing? That boundary?”

Kieran’s voice sharpened. “Draegor. What is happening?”

“I’m getting… a lot of notifications,” Nathan said. “We finished the tutorial. It’s definitely not letting us out.”

His gaze drifted toward the oak door on the hill.

I should still check. Just in case.

He didn’t know what he expected. A miracle, maybe.

CHIME

Mana Access: Not Yet Permitted
Reason: Further evaluation required

Nathan threw a hand up. “Okay, that one felt personal.”

CHIME

Notice: Companion suppression lock will now be disengaged
Suppression will reengage after completion of protected training scenario

“Companion suppression lock? What is that sup—”

Kieran staggered.

“Sir?”

He braced both hands on his knees. “What is—”

A brilliant gold screen detonated into existence in front of him like a miniature sun.

Nathan screamed and sprinted toward it. “HOLY—OH MY GOD—THIS. THIS IS WHAT I WANTED!”

Kieran jerked back at the volume. “What is this?” He reached out, and the golden interface rippled under his touch like liquid light.

He snatched his hand away.

Nathan circled him like a madman. “WHY DOES YOURS LOOK LIKE THAT? Sir, your UI is OP. It’s gorgeous. It has borders. It has icons—mine technically has icons, too, but yours are pretty. They sparkle. Why do they sparkle? And you have multiple windows. Actual windows. Look, there are tabs. Tabs. My UI has never even suggested tabs. Are those… categories? Status? Skills? Is that a whole tree?

“Why do you have a tree?!”

Kieran blinked at the glowing display. “OP? This is like your… messages?”

“No! Mine doesn’t look anything like this!” Nathan pointed wildly. “Mine is like… Windows ’98 sandbox mode running on low battery.”

Kieran slowly turned his head. “Is that blue thing behind you yours?”

Nathan froze. Whipped around.

His sad little blue rectangle hovered there, flickering like it was ashamed to be seen.

“You… you can see mine now?” he whispered, voice cracking.

“Yes.” Kieran studied both like he was comparing fine art to a sticky note. “Mine is gold.”

“That’s not even the half of it,” Nathan said, vibrating. “Yours looks legit, sir. Like premium tier. Like royalty subscription.”

“Legit?” Kieran repeated. “That means good?”

“Very good. Extremely good. Unfairly good.”

Kieran leaned closer to Nathan’s screen and read aloud, “Type: Hollow. What does that mean?”

“Can you—wait, can YOU read mine? Wait. WAIT. Are you reading English?!” Nathan was nearly screaming. He couldn’t help it.
What is all this?

“English?” Kieran repeated, pronouncing it perfectly.

Nathan slapped both hands over his mouth. “Oh my god. Even your pronunciation is perfect. This is insane.”

Kieran frowned.

“What language do you see, sir?”

"Standard Aevorian."

“Sir, this must be auto-translate, this is huge.” He spun around in a circle. "The possibilities. Maybe I'll get one of those!"

"Auto-transla—"

CHIME

New Primary Quest
Reach the city of Graystone on foot

CHIME

Hint: You can use your new map, adventurer!

“So I graduated to adventurer… yay. Yet you give that UI to some noob?!”

Kieran winced. “What was that noise?”

Nathan grinned like a feral gremlin. “HAHA. Welcome to my hell. That sound? That awful, beautiful chime? I’ve been suffering through it for over a month. Every time you hit something? Chime. Every time you sneeze near a skeleton? Chime. Every time you blink too hard? Chime chime chime.”

Kieran stared in horror. “That would be very annoying.”

“You have NO idea.”

CHIME

Hint: Start your quest!

Kieran’s jaw tightened. “This… will take getting used to.”

Nathan threw his hands up. “And that is your life now, sir. Constant noise. Constant quests. Constant chaos.”

“It has already felt like that the entire time I’ve spent with you,” Kieran said.

Kieran stared at his golden interface like it might bite him. He tapped the corner of the screen. It opened another window. He tried again. Another one opened.

His finger hovered midair. “Draegor. Make it stop.”

“Nope. I can’t believe you got this. Such a waste.”

Honestly, I cannot wait to get my hands on that UI. He’ll need my help, right?

Nathan grinned. “Welcome to the party.”

He tried not to be jealous.
He failed instantly.