They crept back into the main chamber, shoulders tense as the rumbling faded into a low vibration beneath their feet. The air was thick with dust, every breath tasting faintly of iron and moss. The wisp darted ahead, flickering with urgency.

Mai caught movement at the edge of vision—a streak of green whipping past the far archway. The blur was fast, followed by the pounding rhythm of pursuit.

“Get back here, little rabbit!” a voice bellowed, rough and heavy, echoing through the cavern.

A moment later, a rabbit Ferlyn stumbled into view, green hair wild, chest heaving. His boots slid on the damp stone as he spun, eyes widening at the sight of strangers blocking his path. Mai recognized him instantly—the dusty latecomer from the orientation hall, the one who had barely made it through the doors before they closed.

"Oh, thank goodness! People who aren't trying to hurt me." The boy hesitated, ears twitching. "Unless you are, in which case, I should keep running."

"We're not here to hurt you," Mai said, instinctively moving in front of him. The wisp circled protectively at their feet.

"That's a relief," the boy said, his grin oddly light for the moment. "I'm Nasu Pazoru. Been running from those two for hours." His breathing was steady, his body unmarked save for old scrapes.

The thud of footsteps drew closer until the pursuers stormed in—one dragging a pair of heavy axes that scraped against the stone, the other letting a long chain uncoil from his arm. Curved blades glinted at both ends, spinning lazily through the air.

"There's the furball," the taller one snarled. His eyes flicked to Mai and Soar. "And look—he's dragged in a few more forest critters."

Soar stepped forward, her rapier catching a glint from the Wisp’s light. Her tail stilled, the only sign of the calm before violence. “He’s with us now,” she said coolly. “Leave.”

Mai’s hand slid to his dagger. The constellations carved within the blade shimmered faintly—a map of stars shifting in anticipation, as if the weapon itself were watching.

"Three little animals think they can take us?" The shorter one laughed, swinging chained blades in slow, taunting circles. "You have any idea who we are?"

"I don't care," Mai replied, his voice level despite the tension. “Why are you going after this kid?” The dagger seemed to pulse against his palm, as if testing the aggressors.

The wisp darted between their feet, its ethereal form expanding, tails flaring with blue flame.

Nasu stepped beside Mai, his posture relaxed but alert. "These guys ambushed me when I found a supply cache. Been chasing me ever since." His tone remained remarkably conversational. "Apparently, sharing wasn't an option."

The taller fighter snorted—a sound that came from deep in his chest, heavy as stone.

“You really want to do this?” Mai asked, voice steady.

The brute scoffed, misting the air with breath. “You got a problem with that?”

Mai’s head tilted slightly. “No,” he said. “Just making sure you’ve thought it through.”

"Is this really necessary?" Nasu called out, hopping backward. "The labyrinth's big enough for all of us!"

"Not when there's only twenty-four exits," growled the taller one, as he began circling Mai. "And now we've got extra competition."

Mai felt an unusual clarity settle over him as he faced his opponent. He realized this wasn't personal, just necessary thinning of the competition. He understood the grim logic. And he couldn’t fault them for it; resources and exits were finite.

He exhaled slowly, letting the weight of that truth anchor him. The dagger tilted in his grip, its constellations sliding into new patterns like shifting stars.

"Last chance," Mai warned. His stance tightened, the cool draft from the labyrinth walls brushing against his skin. "Walk away." The words hung in the musty air between them, barely audible over the distant dripping echoing through the stone corridors.

The taller one grinned, hefting both axes into a fighting stance. "Or what?"

Mai didn't answer. A quiet pressure built like a storm—then the brute lunged forward.

His axes came down in a brutal cross-slash, the sound cracking through the chamber like thunder. The impact struck the ground where Mai had stood an instant earlier, stone shattering under the weight. Dust burst outward, veiling the light.

Mai slipped aside, shoes skimming over loose debris. The rush of displaced air brushed his shoulder.

Before the brute could recover, Mai moved. The dagger flashed once, a swift silver arc that kissed the man’s forearm. Blood welled in a clean, deliberate line.

The shorter fighter swung next, chain snapping through the air in twin arcs. Two blades spun opposite each other, carving the air with sharp metallic hums. Soar twisted away from the first, the second slicing past her hair close enough to shear a strand free.

She caught the returning chain on her rapier with a flick of her wrist, redirecting its path. The fighter snarled, recoiling his weapon for another throw.

The brute recovered and pressed forward, each swing of his axes shaking the stone beneath them. Every blow was an earthquake—raw power over technique—but Mai stayed ahead of them. He parried when he could, blocked when he must, and every time the weapon missed, his dagger answered with another shallow cut.

Across the room, Soar met the chain-wielder’s relentless rhythm head-on. The weapon’s unpredictable orbit forced her into constant motion—pivoting, sidestepping, striking in quick, precise bursts. Her movements were fluid and unyielding, a stark contrast to the clattering chain.

Though their opponents were strong, their blows were chaotic, a relentless storm of power. Every exchange came down to raw power versus precision.

The brute feinted with one axe, then brought the other around in a sweeping arc. Mai ducked low, the blade passing over his head with a rush of air, close enough to ruffle his hair. A grin flickered across his face, exhilaration cutting through focus.

Then the chain came.

It snapped back with a whipcrack, both blades reversing course—one darting for Mai’s shoulder, the other spinning low toward Soar.

Mai shifted his weight forward, steel flashing as he caught the upper blade on his dagger. The impact jarred through his arm, but he twisted with it, letting the motion carry the weapon aside. The sudden deflection caused the chain to come off-line with a loud snap.

The brute’s axe came down a heartbeat later, roaring through the air toward them both. Mai stepped in and met the handle near its midpoint, striking it with the flat of his dagger to divert its swing outward. Metal met metal, and the collision sent a shower of fiery sparks into the air.

Soar took the opening. She jumped, spinning through the air between the redirected axe and the snapping chain, her rapier slicing a bright arc that clipped the chain mid-spin. The weapon recoiled violently, one of its blades clattering against stone.

She landed behind them in a single smooth motion, tail flicking once, breath steady. Mai straightened beside her, stance calm, dagger low but ready.

The chain-wielder glared between them as he retracted what remained of his weapon. The brute turned slowly, axes raised, frustration bleeding through every motion.

Soar smiled faintly. “You two getting tired?”

The brute answered Soar’s taunt with a growl that rumbled through the chamber. “Tired? You’ll be lucky to crawl out of here with your tail still attached.” He stepped forward, stone cracking beneath his boots, and swung both axes in a vicious crossing arc.

Mai barely slipped past the first, parrying the second. The impact sent a shiver through his arm. He pushed off the recoil, twisting his body to slip around the brute’s guard. The dagger flashed out—only to meet a streak of motion as the chain whipped across his path.

The shorter fighter had already moved. The chain lashed toward Mai’s ribs, the remaining blade snapping in a tight, vicious arc.

Mai's dagger rose instinctively, catching it with a clean upward sweep. Sparks flared between them.

Soar's rapier intercepted the deflected blade with a clear, ringing note.

Mai pivoted as the chain whipped back to its owner, following the blade's path with his eyes. He sidestepped, feeling the air displace as Soar slid past him, her rapier flashing toward the brute's shoulder.

Without a word, they switched targets. Their movements fluid and coordinated, guided only by instinct.

Mai launched himself at the chain-fighter, who wasn't expecting the sudden change. The man's eyes widened as Mai closed the distance, dagger leading. The fighter snapped his chain back defensively, but Mai had anticipated this. He dropped low, sliding beneath the retraction and coming up inside the man's guard.

The dagger found its mark, leaving a thin red line on the opponent's leg.

The chain-fighter stumbled back, his face contorting with rage as blood beaded along his leg. He snapped his weapon in a wide arc, forcing Mai to retreat. Desperation made his swings wild.

"You'll pay for that," he snarled, but Mai could hear the uncertainty creeping into his voice.

Mai circled, the dagger balanced lightly between his fingers. He sensed Soar behind him, her movements a blur as she kept the brute at bay with precise, darting strikes.

The chain lashed out once more. Mai surged forward, slipping beneath the swing. The dagger traced two clean lines—one across the forearm, another along the chest—as he passed.

The man howled, chain slackening as his grip faltered. Mai pressed forward, driving his opponent back with a flurry of calculated strikes.

Behind him, he heard the brute roar in pain. Soar had found her opening.

"Mai, duck!" she called.

He dropped instantly as one of the brute's axes sailed over his head, clattering against the far wall. The chain-fighter tried to capitalize on Mai's position, but Mai rolled sideways and came up with his dagger leading.

The final strike caught the chain wielder across the shoulder—clean, controlled, just deep enough to end the fight. The fighter staggered, the chain falling from nerveless fingers.

"I can't—" he gasped, dropping to one knee.

Then something strange happened. The man's skin began to glimmer, small points of light appearing across his body. Within seconds, his entire form crystallized like glass, fracturing into thousands of shimmering fragments that floated upward and vanished into the darkness.

Mai turned to see Soar standing over the brute, who was undergoing the same transformation—body hardening into crystal before shattering into countless floating motes of light.

"What just happened?" Nasu whispered, stepping closer as the last fragments disappeared.

Mai exhaled slowly, realization dawning. "I think I understand. When someone takes enough damage, they're disqualified." He sheathed the dagger, feeling its warmth fade against his hip. "The academy probably pulls them out to receive medical attention."

"A safety measure," Soar nodded, flicking blood from her rapier before sheathing it.

Mai's wisp circled them anxiously, its four tails swishing through the air as if urging them onward.

"Well," Nasu said, straightening his tunic with a surprisingly cheerful smile, "I suppose I should thank you both for the rescue. Seems we've found ourselves a rather formidable team."

Mai exchanged a look with Soar, their eyes meeting in shared disbelief. Had Nasu just... taken credit for their victory? The rabbit Ferlyn stood there beaming with pride as if he'd personally disarmed both attackers, despite having spent the entire fight safely out of range.

"Formidable team," Mai repeated under his breath, the words tasting strange.

Soar caught his eye again, the corner of her mouth quirking upward. A bubble of unexpected laughter escaped Mai's throat. After the tension of combat, the absurdity of Nasu's comment struck him as genuinely funny.

Soar joined in, her clear laugh mingling with his. "Yes, very formidable," she managed between chuckles.

Nasu's ears perked up, clearly pleased with their response. "So... can I stick with you two? Safety in numbers and all that."

The laughter faded, leaving only the low hum of the corridor around them. Soar’s tail moved in a slow rhythm behind her, a small tell of thought. The air wasn’t cold—just heavy, the kind of silence that forms when both people already know what the other is thinking.

Mai watched her for a moment, then shifted his weight, eyes tracing the cracks along the floor. “We make a good team,” he said finally. “No reason that has to change yet.”

Soar’s ears twitched. Her gaze lifted, holding his for a heartbeat before drifting away again. “Nasu raises a good point about teams,” she said, voice quiet but cautious. “You and I work well together, but…” She trailed off, the rest lost to the silence.

Mai didn’t need her to finish. The thought was already there between them, unspoken but understood. What happens when we find an exit?

He broke the silence gently. “You’re worried about what happens if we reach an exit together,” he said. His tone carried no judgment—only understanding. “Only one person can go through, after all.”

Soar nodded faintly, eyes returning to him. “Exactly. We fought well together just now, but what if we’re the last two standing at a single door?” Her hand drifted toward her rapier’s hilt—not out of hostility, but reflex. “We’d have to fight. And neither of us would walk away unscathed.”

Mai weighed her words before speaking.

“We’ll figure that out when we get there,” he said finally. “No tricks, no deception. If we find an exit together, we’ll decide then who goes through.” His gaze didn’t waver. “Fair fight, if it comes to that.”

Soar’s tail flicked once, then again—slight movements betraying the conflict behind her calm mind. Her eyes searched his, looking for the lie she expected to find.

“I want to trust you,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “Really, I do. But this examination is too important.” She straightened, resolve hardening in her posture. “I think it’s best we split up.”

Mai nodded, feeling no resentment at her decision.

"Fair enough," he said. "Good luck out there, Soar. I hope we both make it through."

A small smile touched her lips. "You too, Mai." She turned to leave, then paused, looking back over her shoulder. "Maybe we'll meet again—inside Edgewater's real halls."

"I'd like that," Mai replied honestly.

They shared one final nod of mutual respect before she melted into the shadows of the labyrinth, the sound of her footsteps fading until silence returned.

Mai turned to find Nasu watching him with keen interest, the rabbit Ferlyn's green hair falling across his forehead as he tilted his head.

"Just the two of us now, huh?" Nasu's ears twitched. "Well, three if we count your ghostly companion."

The wisp circled them both before darting ahead, clearly impatient to continue.

Mai grinned, a quiet chuckle slipping out. “Come on,” he said, slinging his bag higher on his shoulder. “We’ve got a whole lot of searching ahead of us.