Remi reached down and touched the scarf. Somehow he had it back, and would never be so careless with it again. His chest burned with the thought of it all; his arrogance had cost him a brother, and not only had the maze made him relive it, but it had also delayed him further. He looked at the time remaining and found he had just over fifteen minutes. He needed to get to the end of this, and he could process Dodo and Bea later.

  He sprinted along the glass curve, breath shallow, unconsciously trailing a pulse thread behind him. The corridor looped again, tighter this time, and then again. The maze was narrowing. With one last curve, the end was there, up ahead. The hallway bent inward, not just another curve, but a shift into a larger open space. A wall of reinforced glass formed a partial dome at the maze’s core. It shimmered faintly, distortion blooming at its edge like a TV screen catching light at a strange angle.

  Remi stumbled into a sudden openness. He skidded to a stop in the centre. The space before him was vast, circular, and awe-inspiring. A hollow arena of glass and stone and sky. Remi looked up at a real sky, not the cold slate trick of the maze. This one was cerulean and immense, with light pouring through the high dome like spilled grace. The dome overhead arched wide and impossibly high, made from panes of reinforced glass and supported by four massive columns near the room’s centre. Four massive pillars, spaced evenly in a square. They rose like titans—ancient, load-bearing monoliths of cracked white stone that stretched all the way to the glass above. Between them, the light bled down in a perfect column, falling onto a ring of white tile below.

  For a moment, Remi could only stand and breathe. The transition from maze to openness was so abrupt it felt like stepping outside a simulation. Everything here was sharp. The stone felt as if it were rendered in high definition. The light that pierced the dome felt too bright, sending pain shooting through his eyes as they adjusted. Remi’s breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t coded light. This was sunlight. Whatever lay above the dome wasn’t a Crucible illusion; it was real sky.

  And something was observing through it.

  Atop one of the far beams—barely visible against the glare—perched a massive bird-shaped shadow. Still. Unmoving. Its form indistinct but unmistakable. A hunched avian figure, broad-winged and watchful, as if carved from smoke. It stared down through the dome with predatory stillness, just looking in.

  Remi shivered. “Prep Vulture,” he muttered, “it has as to be.”

  Then his eyes shifted, drawn not upward, but across.

  Opposite the way he’d entered was an archway. Grand, deliberate, almost mythic in its framing. And there, framed perfectly within its threshold, stood Dorian.

  Backlit by the sun, his brother looked like a statue of tension, his arms braced, his face shadowed, body bent as if holding something unseen at bay.

  Remi stepped forward, a whisper escaping him.

  “Dodo…”

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  His brother was a statue of strain, arms braced against an unseen weight, shoulders hunched, body bowed. The light behind him silhouetted his form.

  He rushed forward, crossing the archway’s threshold only to slam into something unseen. It wasn't glass exactly. It was more like a membrane. Dodo was trapped behind it, and while probing it showed resistance, as he set his hand against the surface, he also felt a springiness. It gave the sense that this was a barrier that could be pierced with intention. There was no hesitation; if Dorian was in here, Remi needed to get to him.

  “Take me to Dorian.” Remi pushed as he incanted his desire, and the tension bent, allowing him to pass through.

  He was once again in a memory. Time shivered; he felt both within it and out of it. The air thickened, pressure shoved his eardrums, as if he jumped into the deep end and water leapt to play its rhythm.

  He felt a presence briefly behind him, and a whisper slid into his ear.

  “This is not now; it's almost now. We are not quite aligned with the rest of them. This is a buffer zone. We’re echoing forward while the rest of the story hasn’t caught up.”

  Remi turned his head to see who was there, only to find the presence and the voice gone. He returned his gaze to Dorian, who was no longer frozen. A goblin stalked into view. Dorian was holding what appeared to be an office table that he was using as a shield to prevent the goblin from reaching him. He was grasping the table by the leg and shifting to keep it between him and the cruel-looking blade the goblin was wielding.

  “Don’t let it reach us, idiot.” Remi blinked. The voice sounded strangely like their old college roommate Elias. But that made no sense. Remi hadn’t seen him since the collapse of their failed novel, and Dorian had only roomed with them for the one summer before heading to law school. There was no logical reason the two should be here together.

  Dorian grunted as he shifted with the table once more. His voice held a determined edge Remi was all too familiar with. “I know that. But I have no idea what the hell I am doing. You could help.” Dorian twisted, nearly losing his grip on the table leg. His suit jacket was torn at the elbow, and he was wearing expensive Italian shoes. Where was his armour? Why wasn’t he in boots? Elias, wherever he was, wasn’t casting, shielding, or swinging anything. They had nothing that appeared to be weapons. They were obviously out of their depth. Remi prepared to cast a Mana Pulse. “DODO!”

  Remi saw Dorian turn his head towards him, but the world tore sideways. A sharp tug jerked him backward, spine first, as if a leash had snapped taut. The light fractured as the image collapsed inward and was gone. The last thing he saw was the goblin lunging and Dorian holding the line.

  He hit the ground hard. The tile floor struck his back as he was tossed backwards, ejected from the vision, into the empty chamber. Remi was back in the maze. From somewhere up ahead came the sound of movement. Metal scraping and gears winding, the sound of the Monstergears still hunting spilled from the opening in front of him. As the noise grew, so did Remi’s understanding. They had never been behind him. The maze was again not what he thought; his assumption was that he was on a pilgrimage. A journey of reflection. But he was in fact in a maze of mirrors, intended to distort and confuse. The enemy had never been behind him like he thought; they had always been in front of him, and were now almost at their prey.

  He did not even need to turn to know that his escape was no longer there. A quick glance confirmed that the way out had been sealed. He was trapped in a coliseum, and the lions were about to be unleashed.

  He backed up, steading himself for the inevitable fight. Remi clenched his fists; the only way out was through. He had seen Dorian, and he hadn't been a memory, nor a metaphor; he was here, and Remi was going to get to him. No matter how many things the crucible put in his way.

  There were no more distractions. No more illusions. Just the story. He needed to get this day finished so he could find his brother.

  Three mechanical monsters squealed into the room from the north doorway. As a unit, they spread wide across the arena’s top arc. They stopped, trying to get a clear scan of his location. He could see the smoke rise from the small rubber wheels of the two on AV cards they were mounted on. They squealed to a halt, a momentary pause before the imminent chaos that was about to unfold.

  [SYSTEM MESSAGE]

  NEW QUEST - CLEAR THE PATH

  Remi knew what the system wanted. He might as well give it to them.

  Remi: Archie, you wanted a fight. Enough messing around, let’s get this over with. I have an appointment to keep.

  [NARRATIVE CONFLUX DETECTED]

  STORY THREADS INTERSECTING: EMOTION; MEMORY; MOMENTUM.

  FIGHT TO FORWARD THE PLOT.

  [HP: 235/260 | MP: 325/350]

  [INKWELL: 72% | Status: Let’s do this!]

  [AI]: It’s about time.