The scarred group leader moved through the dense, cloying foliage with a ghost-like silence, gesturing for David to step exactly where he stepped. The oppressive, sunless heat seemed to bake the rot right into the air. Every few seconds, the leader would freeze, his head tilted, listening to the deep, tangled woods for the slightest hint of a glitching, insectoid screech.

They rounded the massive root of a skin-textured tree and slipped into the ruined shell of an old concrete office room that had clipped sideways into the dirt. Just as they crossed the threshold, the heavy, rhythmic thuds of multi-limbed paws echoed from the corridor just ahead.

The Chitin-Stalker was right outside.

The leader immediately thrown a hand against David’s chest, pinning him flat against the concrete wall. They stayed perfectly put, their breath held. Through the shattered doorframe, they could see the massive, bulbous spider head of the monster twitching in the shadows, its translucent fly wings buzzing with a low, nauseating vibration as it sniffed the air for human adrenaline.

Reaching slowly into his ragged vest pocket, the leader fished out a small, jagged stone that glowed with a faint, pulsing blue light—a piece of glitched material harvested from the maze. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the stone out the shattered window frame behind them.

The rock clattered loudly against a rusted filing cabinet in the brush outside.

Instantly, the creature’s head snapped toward the noise. It let out a violent, high-pitched screech and rushed out the door, its heavy wolf legs tearing up the mud as it bolted toward the distraction.

"Come on. This way," the leader hissed, dropping low.

They sneaked past the empty doorway, sprinting through a twisting network of overlapping corridors where the concrete walls and jungle vines had completely fused together into a tight, claustrophobic labyrinth. The leader led him into a cramped corner space, pulling back a thick curtain of moss to reveal a narrow gap in the wall.

"Crawl," the leader ordered.

David squeezed his torso through the tight opening, tumbling onto the floor of a small, hidden concrete bunker. Exhausted, his muscles burning from the heat, David slid down the wall and sat down heavily, clutching his backpack.

The group leader paced slowly across the room, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at David. "Are you absolutely sure you’re not a part of the Ghost Syndicate?"

David wiped a layer of greasy sweat from his forehead, looking up with genuine frustration. "No! I'm just a guy who got roped up in this hellhole! I clean carpets for a living!"

The leader watched him closely, his expression unreadable. "Next question. What do you know about that creature out there?"

"Nothing!" David shot back, his voice cracking with raw stress. "It’s my first time ever seeing a spider-headed wolf with fly wings! I don't know anything!"

The leader studied David’s body language—the shaking hands, the wide, terrified pupils, the defensive posture. After a long silence, the tension in the leader's shoulders finally dropped. "You pass."

Confused, David blinked against the dim light. "I pass? Were you testing me?"

"Sorry," the leader said, leaning his rusted pipe against a concrete pillar. "There are a lot of dangerous people out there. I had to make sure you weren't an enemy. A Ghost spy would have tried to lead me into an ambush by now."

David let out a breathless, nervous chuckle. "Are you sure reading me was that easy?"

"Simple enough by body language," the leader muttered, a grim smirk touching his lips. "Unless you were super trained in hiding body reactions. If you're lying, then you are amazing. But you're not. You're just a terrified civilian."

The leader sat down across from him, his tone turning incredibly serious. "Next, I'll tell you something. Have you ever wanted to leave this place?"

A surge of pure, electric adrenaline hit David's chest. He leaned forward, his eyes widening with excitement. "You... you know a way out?!"

"Well, of course there's a way out of this maze," the leader said flatly.

Tears of pure, overwhelming relief suddenly blurred David's vision. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he let out a jagged laugh. "Finally... a way out of this hellhole. I can get Lisa home. We can leave."

But as the initial shock of joy began to fade, a cold, unsettling thought crept into David's mind. He raised his head, staring at the leader’s scarred throat and caked-on layers of filth. If this man knew how to escape, it didn't make any sense.

"Wait," David said, his voice dropping into a suspicious whisper. "Then why are you still here if you know a way out?"

The group leader didn't answer right away. He just looked at David with a cold, hollow, and deadly serious expression, the silence in the bunker turning heavy enough to suffocate them.