Roenan stood dumbstruck as Saive shoved him hard in the chest, forcing him to stumble backward into the row. He quickly slipped past him, surprisingly agile for someone who looked so weak.

"Follow me!" he called, tearing down the path within the dense stone walls.

Roenan turned on his heels and gave chase. They ran until they reached the end of the row. Saive skidded to a halt, glanced left and right, then darted to the right and vanished around the corner. Roenan’s stomach dropped—what if Saive was just another hallucination? But when he turned the corner, there he was, crouched and signaling for silence with a finger to his lips. Roenan quietly crept over.

“This is the last spot I remember from last time. Nothing beyond this is familiar.” A new path branched out before them.

Roenan looked both ways, tense. “Should we stick together or break apart? If we choose wrong together, we’re both fucked.”

“No. We always stick together,” Saive replied without hesitation.

Then a harsh snarl ripped through the quiet. Roenan turned slowly.

A massive, dark, wolf-like animal crouched at the end of the row, its head low, deep red eyes locked onto him. Wiry fur bristled along its back, white foam dripping from its jaws as a low, guttural growl rumbled in its throat

The wolf suddenly lunged forward, sinking its teeth into the front of Saive’s throat and driving him to the ground.

“Saive!” Roenan shouted—then his vision swam, and the ground slammed into his back.

“No, no, no!” he gasped, pushing himself up. He wasn’t at the maze’s entrance this time—he was somewhere deep inside, surrounded by unfamiliar walls. From farther within the labyrinth came barking, snarling, and a blood-curtling scream that sent a chill racing down his spine.

“NO!” he yelled again, scrambling to his feet and sprinting for the entrance. He tore through the maze and rounded the corner.

Drakke was leaning casually against the hedge, one foot crossed over the other, a cigarette glowing faintly between his lips.

“What?” he asked. “Don’t look at me. Go save your friend. Gonna let him die in there?” The cigarette bobbed as he spoke, then he jerked his head toward the snarls and screams echoing beyond.

Roenan clenched his jaw and sprinted past him, not sparing another glance. The smell of the smoke—floral, nostalgic—hit him hard, reminding him of the garden from his childhood. He blinked furiously, vision blurred with frustration. He stopped abruptly at the crossroads—where Drakke had asked him to choose left or right.

The snarls and yells grew closer ahead of him, but suddenly Drakke blocked his path, appearing out of nowhere to look down at him. He bent close, his lips brushing Roenan’s ear.

“I have something for you. Give me your hand,” he whispered. Roenan felt something pressed into his palm—then a sharp, searing slice. He cried out and shoved Drakke back, only to come face-to-face with Klonjjerik, expressionless and holding a dripping knife.

And then a sharp slap struck Roenan’s cheek.

“Focus!” Saive hissed.

Roenan blinked, startled, as Saive hovered before him.

“I thought we were sticking together. Where did you run off to?” Saive hissed.

“I…” Roenan faltered, then looked him over. He didn’t seem any worse for wear.

“The dogs—” Roenan began, but the words caught in his throat.

“They’re in here. But I found the exit. Are you coming or not?” Saive asked bluntly.

“Did you just come back for me?”

Saive shot him an irritated look that said everything. Roenan stopped hesitating and got to his feet.

“Fight the drugs,” Saive said low. “If you feel yourself slipping, say something. I’ll smack you back into reality.”

“Thanks?” Roenan muttered.

Saive gave a curt nod, “Let’s go.”

They ran together again, weaving through the maze. At times, it felt like they were circling back on themselves—Roenan couldn’t tell if they were getting closer to the exit or retracing their steps. Saive suddenly skidded to a stop, and Roenan stumbled to a halt beside him.

A dog stood before them, eerily calm. It was a standard Vernajjian military breed—used as both companion and weapon.

“I think I’m hallucinating again,” Roenan whispered.

“You’re not,” Saive answered quickly.

The dog growled low in its throat, crouched, then lunged. Its teeth sank into Roenan’s upper arm, yanking him sideways—he twisted with a sharp gasp, stumbling as it dragged him. It shook its head violently.

Roenan grit his teeth, heart hammering, and swung his free fist into the dog’s snout. The jaws didn’t release, but the shaking stopped.

Suddenly, Saive was on top of the animal, his arms wrapping tightly around its chest and neck. The dog’s jaws unclenched, and Roenan tumbled forward. A scuffle erupted behind him, and he whipped his head around so fast a muscle twinged painfully in his neck.

Saive slowly lowered the animal to the ground, laying its limp body down with surprising gentleness. He rested his hand lightly on its side and whispered a soft apology. Then his eyes flicked up, locking with Roenan’s.

“You okay?” Saive asked.

“Did you kill it?” Roenan’s voice was tight as he stared at the shredded fabric of his sweatshirt, wincing as he carefully rolled his shoulder.

“Not animals,” Saive said quietly, his eyes serious. “It's knocked out. Answer my question.”

Roenan glanced down his arm at the ragged tears in the fabric, which felt slightly damp. Yet adrenaline surged through him, dulling the pain.

“I’ll survive,” he said, pushing himself up.

Without hesitation, they resumed jogging through the maze.

Saive was breathing hard, nearly gasping for air, but they kept moving. Roenan didn’t mention it—Saive looked so determined, never once asking to stop or take a break.

When they turned down another long row, Saive jogged ahead, but Roenan slowed to a stop, staring blankly at the sight unfolding at the end.

"That's..."

Vernajjian medics leaned over someone Roenan knew well—his previous boyfriend—hooking him up to IVs. He lay motionless on the tile. Roenan felt a painful feeling rising within him.

“Saive…” His voice cracked.

Saive stopped, turned, jogged back, and slapped him across the face again.

“Easy!” he gasped, clutching his cheek. His eyes darted down the empty row — only clean tile and ivy-laced walls met his gaze. Relief flodded through him.

"What the hell? Does this thing come in waves? Why aren't you hallucinating too?" Roenan asked bitterly.

“I am. I’m just controlling it better than you are. Let’s go.”

Roenan let out a frustrated sigh and fell into pace behind him, muttering, “You know, it pisses me off a little that you lose your absolute shit when I touch you, but you’re totally fine when you're smacking me across the face."

Saive snorted as they kept pace. They twisted through a few more corridors before finally stumbling into an open space. They slowed, eyes fixed on a wall directly ahead, with a single door set at its center.

“What’s on the other side?” Roenan asked.

“I haven’t checked,” Saive replied, eyes fixed on the door.

Roenan studied Saive's profile, realizing that he could have easily escaped the dog-infested, hallucinatory maze a while ago. Alone. Yet, he’d chosen to turn back before reaching the door—giving Roenan a fighting chance too.

“Thanks,” He said softly.

“Mnn.” Saive hummed in response, turning to face Roenan. “Be prepared for anything on the other side. We're not free when we get in there. It only gets worse.”

At that moment, two dogs came bounding through the maze’s exit, their claws clicking sharply against the tile. Saive and Roenan exchanged no words as they dashed for the door; Roenan reaching it first. He yanked the handle and swung it wide, letting Saive slip through without breaking stride. He quickly followed in, and slammed the door shut tightly behind them.

Darkness swallowed them. Roenan heard Saive wheezing nearby, and his own pulse was thudding in his ears.

Then the wheezing stopped. There was a shuffling noise—like a struggle.

“Saive?” Roenan called. “Saive?!”

Somewhere nearby him, a door opened and closed. Then silence swallowed the room, except for his own panting.

He turned toward the direction of the sound, but faltered to a stop as the room suddenly flooded with buzzing and blinding light. Four men in Jaedan military uniforms stood in front of him, motionless and watching.

He stared in stunned silence, hardly believing what he was seeing. They were about to be saved.

“Hey!” he finally shouted, his voice echoing through the now-bright room as he sprinted toward the group of uniformed men. He crashed into the nearest one, gripping fistfuls of his jacket and clinging to him like an anchor.

 “You have to help us,” he gasped, desperately. “I’m a Jaedan prisoner—they’ve been holding me here. And I... I think they have one of your own. His name is Saive, and he-he's in here!" Roenan looked frantically over both of his shoulders, but saw no one else besides the men. "Does-does that name mean anything to you?!"

The man tsked sharply, then tossed Roenan to the floor, putting his hand over the weapon at his hip. Instinctively, Roenan threw his hands up and release a shuddering breath.

He heard an unlocking sound, followed by the creaking of a floorboard closeby, but kept looking at the man before him.

“Please, you have to listen to me." Roenan breathed. "We need your help."

The man’s boots clacked loudly as he approached. He crouched beside Roenan and yanked his arms down from their defensive position. Without hesitation, he plunged his hand into Roenan’s shirt and ripped out his military tag. Holding it up inches from Roenan’s face, he sneered.

“A Vernajjian military tag,” he spat. “Now get up!”

“No—no! Wait... you don’t understand—” Roenan stammered, but before he could finish, the man landed a brutal kick into his side. Pain surged through his ribs, muscles tightening instinctively. He gagged.

But the Jaedan regarded him with cold, unflinching indifference.

Slowly, Roenan hauled himself to his feet, burning with silent fury.

"Why are you doing this?" He rasped.

“Get in,” the man demanded, his voice sharp and clear in flawless Jaedan—no hint of a Vernajjian accent.

Roenan’s eyes followed the source of the creak to an open trapdoor in the floor. Peering down, he saw a narrow staircase swallowed by shadow, the steps fading into a small, square pit of dirt below.

Something pressed sharply between his shoulders. He didn't even want to know what type of weapon it was.

 He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard to steady his ragged breath.

"Please..."

“Now!” the man barked.

Roenan took a shaky step forward, then another, his legs trembling as he began to descend.

The air grew thick and muggy, clinging to his skin. A damp, earthy smell met his nose—a mix of mold, dirt, and stale wood. His fingers brushed against the rough, splintered railing as he navigated the narrow staircase, heart hammering with each downward step. Every breath felt heavier, every movement slower, as if the room itself was trying suffocate him.

Desperately, he wished this, too, would turn out to be another cruel hallucination.

But just as the thought crossed his mind, the hatch slammed shut behind him, locking him into both darkness and a reality that he could not hope to be pulled back from this time.