"I'm not saying it's mine," Cal declared. "I'm saying I carried the pack, so I should get more than just crumbs."

The single lantern’s flame guttered, its light dragging restless shadows across the stone—long, twitching shapes that looked almost alive. The rough walls swallowed the glow as if unwilling to share it.

"We're all carrying something," Marin shot back, rubbing at the edge of her sleeve. "That doesn't make you special."

A droplet fell somewhere in the dark, then another, each impact echoing until it merged with the faint hum of moving stone. Her tone stayed level, but her words burned with the quiet anger of hunger and exhaustion. Her eyes, nearly luminous in the dim corridor light, held his without blinking.

Off to the side, pressed against the cool stone wall, Emri sat with her knees pulled to her chest. The small Ferlyn girl cradled her camera in pale fingers, the device's polished casing reflecting what little light filtered through the ancient corridor. Her mouse ears drooped slightly, sensitive to the rising tension but too exhausted to even add her input.

The three had been underground too long. Their dwindling supplies sat between them, bread reduced to crumbs, water thinning to sips. Three days in the labyrinth had stripped their patience to threads.

Emri's stomach growled as the other two argued, but she made no move toward their rations. The hunger had become a constant companion.

The argument exhausted itself, hanging in the air before settling into silence. Cal looked away first, rubbing a hand over his face as if the argument had drained the last of his patience. Marin exhaled through her nose, a quiet sound of resignation as she leaned her head back against the cool stone wall.

Emri's gaze drifted from her companions to the dark tunnel where their voices had carried, wondering how far their echoes had traveled through the ancient maze. The camera felt heavy in her hands, useless down here where there was hardly enough light to see, let alone capture images.

A glint of blue caught her attention—two perfect points of cerulean light hovering in the darkness where the corridor bent. Eyes.

Emri froze, her small fingers tightening around her camera. Whatever lurked in the shadows hadn't made a sound, hadn't disturbed the air. Her heartbeat quickened. She lifted one hand slightly, tapping her fingers against the stone floor in a deliberate pattern. When neither Cal nor Marin responded, she reached out, touching Marin's ankle with feather-light pressure, then pointing toward the darkness with her chin.

The blue light drifted closer, gradually materializing at the edge of their lantern's reach. From the gloom, the creature emerged, a spectral fox with four translucent tails swaying in unseen currents, its body woven from luminescent blue mist.

Cal scrambled backward, knocking over their water flask as he reached for the blade he'd set down. Marin's hand went to the knife at her belt.

"If you're finished arguing," a calm voice cut through from the dark, "you might want to lower your voices. This place echoes farther than you think."

Mai stepped into the light, his fox ears twitching slightly as he assessed the trio with a single sweeping glance. Dust covered his clothes in patches, but his demeanor remained composed. The spectral fox padded a slow circle around him before settling at his side, its ethereal tails rippling like banners in a gentle breeze.

"You three might as well set up a beacon and invite every competitor and creature to your location." His multi-colored eyes caught the lamplight, reflecting it back with unnerving clarity.

Nasu trailed just behind Mai, arms crossed over his chest, his rabbit ears perked up with casual interest. Where Mai carried himself with quiet authority, Nasu looked almost entertained, more relaxed yet equally alert to their surroundings.

"What he's trying to say," Nasu added with a half-smile, "is that we heard you arguing from two corridors away."

Emri watched Mai carefully, her small fingers still clutching her camera like a shield. The spectral fox's glow cast uncanny shadows across the stone walls, making the already disorienting labyrinth feel even more dreamlike. She glanced at Cal and Marin, noting their tense postures, before returning her attention to the newcomers.

"We're not looking for trouble," Mai said, his voice softening as he noted their apprehension. His eyes met each of theirs. "We were just passing through when we heard voices."

Cal braced a hand against the ground, subtly leaning forward as if to shield the others.

Mai could sense their uneasiness. He slipped the backpack from his shoulders and set it down between them. "Regarding what you were arguing over..." He unclasped the main compartment and reached inside. "Sounds like you could use this more than we do."

Emri's eyes widened as Mai pulled out a small bundle wrapped in cloth. The unmistakable scent of bread—not fresh, but not stale either—wafted through the corridor.

"We found a supply cache yesterday," Mai explained, extending the bundle toward Emri. "We've got enough."

Her hand trembled slightly as she accepted the offering, the weight of it substantial in her small palms. The cloth fell away to reveal a round loaf, dense and brown. Real food, not the nutrient bars they'd been rationing.

"Why would you—" Marin began.

Mai cut her off with a simple gesture. "Everyone's trying to pass the same test. Doesn't mean we can't help each other along the way."

Emri broke off a generous piece of the bread, her mouse ears perking up slightly as she tossed it toward Marin. The bread arced through the air, landing perfectly in Marin's surprised hands.

"Thank you," Emri whispered, her voice barely audible even in the quiet corridor. It was the first thing she'd said in hours.

The wisp trotted up to Emri curiously. Its ethereal body brushed against her cheek, leaving a tingling sensation that made her giggle softly. "It tickles," she whispered, letting out a soft giggle.

Cal's shoulders dropped slightly, his defenses lowering as he turned his face away from the others. His downcast eyes and shifting feet made his embarrassment obvious.

Mai tilted his head, studying Emri more carefully as she withdrew behind her camera. Recognition flickered in his eyes.

"Wait, you're the girl from the courtyard a few days ago, aren't you?" Mai asked. "The one who was taking pictures of the Ethrian with blue hair."

Emri's entire body tensed. Her mouse ears flattened against her head as crimson bloomed across her cheeks. She lifted her camera higher, obscuring her face entirely behind the device, peeking over it with just her eyes visible.

"I—I was just..." she mumbled, her voice muffled by the camera.

A soft chuckle escaped Mai, not mocking but genuinely amused. The wisp mimicked his reaction, its luminescent body rippling with what looked like silent laughter.

"I'm not judging," Mai assured her. "Just curious." He settled cross-legged on the stone floor, bringing himself to her eye level. The action seemed intentional—making himself smaller, less intimidating. "What were you doing? Most people preparing for the exam were focused on combat training or puzzles, but you were taking pictures."

Emri lowered the camera slightly, revealing more of her face.

"I document things," she said quietly. "People never notice me much, so I notice them instead." Her voice grew stronger as she spoke about her passion. "A camera captures what everyone else misses, split-second expressions, hidden details. Sometimes I see more through this lens than I do with my own eyes."

She hesitated, then added, "I'm not just some stalker following people around."

Mai chuckled. "I never said you were."

Emri's grip on her camera relaxed. "I just… I think details matter. That Ethrian—if I fought him, I’d surely lose. So I watched instead. I noted how he moved, how his weight shifts, the rhythm of his steps.” Her eyes flicked over the stone walls. "I know my weaknesses, so for me, noticing details means survival."

Mai smiled. "Quite impressive. Not many people bother to notice the world that closely. It’s a good instinct to have."

Emri chewed her bread slowly, savoring each bite. The small group settled into silence broken only by the wisp's gentle hum, and distant echoes reverberating through the labyrinth. The spectral fox drifted lazy circles around them, casting shifting blue patterns across the stone floor.

She studied Mai from behind half-lowered eyelids. His movements were precise, his fox ears occasionally twitching toward sounds no one else seemed to notice. The spectral wisp clearly belonged with him somehow—it moved like his shadow. Unlike most people Emri had encountered during the exam, Mai didn't seem afraid or desperate. He navigated the labyrinth with purpose.

“So,” Nasu said, breaking the quiet, “are we all just gonna sit here pretending this isn’t the most awkward dinner in history?” His rabbit ears bobbed as he tilted his head with an exaggerated grin.

Cal's head snapped up, but Marin let out a surprised snort.

“What?” Nasu went on, gesturing vaguely around the small camp. “I can’t be the only one thinking it’s weird how we’re all eating like this is some underground tea party.”

Marin’s lips twitched, the faintest smile breaking through her fatigue. “I don't know, I think there are worse things than stale bread and silence.”

“True,” Nasu said, leaning back against the stone. “At least no one’s bleeding, and the ceiling hasn’t tried to crush us yet.”

Cal’s glare softened, his shoulders loosening as the tension finally began to lift. "You're all ridiculous," he muttered, though without his earlier hostility.

Nasu suddenly straightened, his rabbit ears perking up as if he'd just remembered something vitally important.

"Oh! I'm Nasu Pazoru, by the way," he announced, slapping his forehead dramatically. "Can't believe I didn't mention that first thing. Totally slipped my mind."

He gestured toward Mai with a sweeping motion. "And this is Mai! He saved me a few days ago… and then again yesterday. From a Lunox beast, no less!"

Mai gave Nasu a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly. The wisp mirrored Mai's movement, tilting its ethereal head in perfect synchronization.

"So," Nasu continued without missing a beat, looking expectantly at each of them in turn. "What do we call you three?"

Emri ducked her head, hiding her smile and chuckle behind her camera. Nasu's abrupt change in conversation eased the tension much better than any careful negotiation could have.

"Emri Eska." Her voice came out soft but clear as she lowered her camera slightly, mouse ears twitching. Despite her shyness, something about Nasu's earnest friendliness made introductions easier.

Marin tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Marin Tevel." Some of the tension in her shoulders eased as she spoke.

Cal finished his bread, the last of his wariness slipping away. "Just Cal is fine," he muttered.

The tension in the air slowly thinned. What had started as guarded silence eased into something quieter, almost peaceful. In the distance, the steady drip of water filled the pause, and for a moment, none of them felt the need to speak.

Mai finished his portion and dusted his hands, watching as the wisp nosed curiously at the crumbs that fell to the floor. His eyes traced the corridor walls, lingering on almost imperceptible seams in the stonework.

"If you're planning to rest here, don't stay long," he said, his tone practical but not commanding. "Corridors like this tend to shift every few hours. See those markings?" He pointed to faint symbols etched into the ceiling that Emri hadn't noticed. "They indicate transitional spaces—areas that rearrange themselves."

Emri's fingers tightened around her camera. Her gaze shifted between Mai and the path ahead, a decision forming quietly in her mind. She would follow him. Someone who understood this place so well, who noticed the details she valued—that was exactly the kind of person she needed to align with if she wanted to survive the exam.

Marin exchanged a quick glance with Cal, then looked to Mai. "You two seem to know what you're doing." She gestured to their small group. "We're... getting by, but we've been running low on everything. If you don't mind some extra company, we can pull our weight."

Cal shifted uncomfortably but didn't argue with Marin's proposal. "Strength in numbers," he muttered, brushing bread crumbs from his lap.

Mai's multi-colored eyes studied each of them in turn, assessing. The wisp circled around him once, then extended its ethereal form toward Emri again, as though offering its own opinion on the matter.

Nasu grinned broadly. "The more the merrier! I've always wanted my own adventuring party. Very heroic, wouldn't you say?" He struck a pose before adding, "Me and Mai have gotten this far without a scratch. What's three more people?"

Mai shook his head at Nasu's theatrics, but his expression had softened. He looked to Emri, noticing how she had already begun to pack up her few belongings, her decision clearly made before he'd even answered.

"I don't see why not," Mai said after a moment. "Just follow the wisp's light and stay close together."

Emri already had her pack secured, camera safely draped around her neck, and stood waiting by the corridor entrance. Her small fingers fidgeted with her bag's strap as the others gathered their belongings. Cal stuffed the remaining bread into his pack while Marin extinguished their lamp to conserve fuel.

Mai studied Emri's quick movements and alert posture. The mouse Ferlyn reminded him of himself—watchful, prepared, always one step ahead.

The wisp walked ahead, bathing the corridor in ethereal blue light. Mai gestured for everyone to follow, taking the lead while Nasu brought up the rear. Their footsteps created a soft rhythm against the stone as they walked single-file into the darkness, the blue light stretching their shadows into elongated silhouettes.

As the group rounded the corner, their whispers fading into the labyrinth's depths, a low growl rumbled through the chamber they had just vacated. Heavy footsteps followed—massive paws pressing against ancient stone, claws scraping with each deliberate step. Whatever stalked these corridors had been watching, waiting, and now followed their scent into the darkness.