Shadows detached from the trees—no warning, no howl, just movement. Moss-matted fur and burning green eyes. Four of them. Big ones.

  Great. Pan's idea of a welcome wagon.

  "Come on, Lena! Disrupt their tactics!" I scooped up a handful of cold pebbles, already moving. The Labyrinthos had embraced us, and it wasn't gentle.

  "Got it!" Lena's grin was sharp, her eyes igniting with crimson fire.

  The world snapped into combat clarity. The lead wolf snarled, green ichor dripping from jagged fangs. I sidestepped a gnarled root, keeping mobile.

  "How many do you see?!"

  "Four of 'em! Big ones!" Lena's voice was a focused blade. "Time to dance!"

  "Yes, Captain!" I saluted mockingly.

  The playful bravado masked the tight knot in my gut. I planted my feet, quarterstaff spear cool in my hands. Wait for it.

  Lena exploded forward with a battle cry that shattered the forest's silence. Her fists became blurs of crimson energy, closing the distance in a heartbeat.

  THUMP-WHAM-CRACK.

  Three devastating blows to the nearest wolf—shoulder, ribs, sternum. The beast flew backward into a tree and dissolved mid-flight, wisps of shadow scattering like smoke.

  Not real. Summonings. The Labyrinthos was still forming.

  The remaining three howled in unified fury. One charged me directly, leapt for my throat. I thrust my spear in a readied strike—the beast ducked under with unnatural speed.

  Crap!

  Its fangs sank into my shoulder plate, the impact jarring through my body. Blunt shock that made my grip falter. Not deep, but enough. My arm went numb, fingers tingling.

  The other two flanked Lena. One's fangs scraped harmlessly off her vambrace, the second found an opening—teeth tearing into her arm. She grunted but her grin never wavered.

  The wolf snarled in my face, breath foul with rot and decay. I drove my spear forward—the point punched deep into its mossy flank, wet resistance. It yelped, greenish ichor weeping from the wound.

  I followed with a swift strike from the spear's butt. The creature twisted—the blow glanced off.

  On Lena's side, one wolf slipped past her guard, teeth finding her leg. She hissed but stood firm.

  "Come on, Lena, stop playing! Finish them!"

  "Who's playing?!" Feral light burned in her eyes. "I'm just warming up!"

  She focused on the wolf that bit her leg. Her flame-wreathed fist smashed into its head with the force of a falling star.

  A loud CRACK echoed. The beast dissolved mid-air into wisps.

  She spun toward the last wolf on her flank, unleashed two brutal punches to its torso. The creature staggered, flickering like a guttering candle.

  Only two remained—the wounded one before me, the damaged one beside her.

  I pressed forward, lunged—my thrust went wide, scraped past the wolf's muzzle. I reversed grip, swung the shaft in a punishing arc.

  THWACK! Wood connected with skull. The wolf staggered, dazed, translucent.

  The creatures fought with desperate ferocity. The dazed one snapped clumsily, easily deflected. But the one beside Lena made a final lunge—fangs sank into her arm before she could block.

  A low growl rumbled in Lena's chest. "That's the last time you draw my blood, mutt." Her flaming fist smashed into its side with a sizzling crunch. It unraveled into shadow without a sound.

  She spun, momentum carrying into a devastating kick aimed at my wolf's head. Her boot connected in a spray of dark mist. The beast collapsed, dissolving before hitting the twisted forest floor.

  Silence descended—heavy, immediate. Only our ragged breathing, the faint crackle of dying Promethean flame.

  Lena straightened, wiped grime from her cheek with the back of her hand.

  "Tch. All bark."

  Her eyes scanned the unnervingly quiet woods, then fell on the fresh dent in my shoulder plate. "You okay? That one got you good."

  I'd make a joke about that, but my shoulder hurt too much.

  "I'm okay? You're the one who let them use you as a chew toy." I stepped closer, scanning the dark bruises and torn leather on her arms. "Do you need me to mend you?"

  Lena scoffed, prodded at the worst bite, winced only slightly. "They were just love taps. Barely broke the skin." The evidence said otherwise.

  "Besides, you're one to talk. I saw that big one use your shoulder for a chew toy." She flexed her fingers, the Promethean Flame dying to faint ember-glow, warrior focus melting into familiar concern.

  "Save your mending for when we really need it. This place..." She gestured deeper into oppressive forest. "...doesn't feel like it's done with us yet."

  I followed her gaze, senses stretching out. "This Labyrinthos is different from Lethe's. Wide open. No rooms or passages... just endless forest." I squinted, searched for a break in the canopy. The wolves hadn't herded us like the phantoms had.

  A silvery gleam on the dark ground caught my eye.

  "Ohh!... look, Lena!" I pointed with sudden enthusiasm. "A snake skin!"

  I scooped the intact silvery sheath from the loam, tucked it into my sleeve. A perfect catalyst. Lucky find!

  Lena watched with fond exasperation. "Different is right." Her voice dropped as she scanned the treeline.

  "Lethe's place was all tight hallways and ghosts whispering in your ear. This just feels like it's waiting to swallow you whole."

  She kicked a gnarled root. "They weren't herding us. They were just... here. Like guard dogs. Which means whatever we're supposed to find..." A vague gesture into the shadowy expanse. "...is probably sitting out there in the open, waiting to be stumbled on."

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  She fell into step beside me, eyes constantly moving.

  The silence was profound.

  I poked her elbow playfully as I stood. "Well... the wolves probably defeated our hare scouts. Those fluffballs disappear in like five minutes." I looked at the identical confusing paths, scratched my chin. Right. I think we're lost.

  "Ahem. Lee..." A nervous smile. "Do you remember which path we came from?"

  "You're kidding, right?" Lena stopped scanning the trees. Her expression flattened into pure disbelief. Dangerously level.

  She pointed at a vague track between identical twisted trees. "You're the one with the 'I can talk to seagulls and smell north' thing! I was following you!"

  "I was busy making sure those overgrown puppies didn't turn us into a lucky charm! I don't have a clue which way we came from." She planted hands on hips, the picture of indignation.

  She gestured broadly. "It all looks the same! Creepy trees and spooky silence!"

  "Sure, Lena... blame me!" I threw my hands up theatrically. "I can't ask animals that are trying to kill us for directions!"

  "And since WHEN can I SMELL NORTH, you dumb tribe girl!"

  I pointed decisively behind her, coughed. "By the way, that's probably north..."

  Lena's jaw dropped. "Tribe girl?! You leaf-licking, bark-chewing—" The tirade cut off as she spun to look where I pointed, then back, eyes narrowing into suspicious slits.

  "...Is it really?" Skepticism dripped from every word. She took a tentative sniff, wrinkled her nose. "All I smell is mold and... you. So how do you know?"

  "Hum?... Simple." I knelt, pointed at thick moss growing on a nearby tree's base. "Moss grows thicker on the north side. Less sun." I gave her a playful wink. "So yeah... I 'smell north'."

  Lena stared at the moss, then at me. Her expression cycled from confusion to dawning comprehension to grudging admiration.

  "Huh." The fight went out of her shoulders. She prodded the moss with her boot. "So you do just smell it. You sniff the moss. I knew it."

  Despite her words, a small smile tugged at her mouth. "Fine. Your weird plant wisdom wins this round. But if this leads us to a giant, man-eating venus flytrap, I'm never letting you forget it."

  -?-

  We moved north. The forest seemed to react—twisted branches overhead creaked softly, a faint whistling sigh grew louder, forming a distant melancholic melody.

  The path sloped gently upward until the trees parted to reveal a small circular clearing. In its center stood a massive ancient oak, bark silvered with age. Carved into its trunk—a complex swirling symbol pulsing with soft verdant light. A waypoint.

  "Ohh... crap." I tightened my grip on my spear, shield coming up instinctively as Lena squared beside me.

  The air had changed—turning cold, charged with wild predatory energy prickling against my skin. This was a predator's den.

  "You feel that too?..."

  "Yeah." Lena's voice was low, dangerous. Her hands ignited with Promethean Flame. "Something big is watching us."

  The forest exploded a hulking figure burst from the trees with a deafening roar—a minotaur, but feral, wild. A mass of muscle matted with mud and leaves, chipped horns, burning hungry eyes promising pure violence.

  It focused on Lena. Lowered its head.

  Charged.

  Time stretched. I threw myself forward, shield-first, putting myself between the brute and my friend. I met its charge with a deflecting parry, turned my body to guide the force away. It wasn't enough the impact was a colossal blast—a sickening CRUNCH echoed. My shield arm screamed, bones rattling from wrist to shoulder. The force lifted me clean off my feet, hurled me backward.

  My world became a dizzying whirl of sky and tree trunks before ending in a jarring breath-stealing THUD against the ancient oak.

  I was on the ground. Prone. Blood in my mouth. That really hurt... my legs were wobbling. Sure, charge the 1-ton overgrown cow head first!

  The beast stood between me and Lena, chest heaving, focused entirely on the fiery-haired girl who had just seen her friend get tossed like a ragdoll. Lena's eyes met mine for a split second—pure unadulterated fury. Then locked back on the monster.

  A sound ripped from Lena's throat that was half roar, half scream of rage.

  "YOU!"

  A corona of crimson fire erupted around her, so intense the air shimmered with heat. She didn't strategize—she became a meteor of vengeance, exploded forward in a straight terrifying line aimed at the beast's chest.

  THUMP-WHAM-CRACK.

  Her flaming fists became a blur—three devastating strikes. Sternum, ribs, ribs. The minotaur stumbled backward, fur smoking. The sickening sound of cracking bone was unmistakable. A pained bellow escaped it. Still standing. But reeling.

  Way to go tribe girl!

  The beast, enraged and wounded, brought both massive fists down in a devastating overhead smash. A horn scraped a deep gouge across Lena's shoulder, the follow-up punch slammed into her chest, knocked wind from her lungs. She staggered back but her rage kept her upright.

  I shoved myself up, body protesting. My spear was out of reach. But the earth provided—my fingers closed around three smooth pebbles.

  "Lena! Avoid its face and legs, focus on torso or back! His body is too big—you'll lose in raw strength!"

  I poured my will, my Sthénos, into the stones. Two began to orbit my wrist like tiny moons. The third glowed with sharp grey light in my palm. Psiloi—a slinger shot powered by Sthénos. The long-range version of my Sideros. Earth and stone as catalyst instead of mistletoe. A way to support while Lena fought head-on.

  I broke into a limping run, circling to flank.

  "PSILOI!" I hurled the enchanted stone—it flew like a bullet, whistled through air before striking the minotaur's shoulder with a concussive THUMP. The magical force punched through thick hide and muscle. The beast bellowed, attention torn between the fiery brawler and the stinging nuisance on its flank.

  The beast was critically wounded, movements sluggish. I kept advancing, the other two stones humming around my arm. Lena saw her opening—a fierce bloody grin split her face. She feinted left, then exploded right with a surge of Promethean flame, became a streak of crimson light.

  "Thanks for the tip, druid!" She launched into a spinning kick aimed at the exposed back. Her flaming heel connected with a thunderous CRACK, shattered bone and seared flesh.

  The minotaur's howl cut short as its legs buckled. It collapsed in a heap of smoking fur, twitching weakly.

  But it wasn't done. In a final surge of hatred, it ignored Lena, twisted its massive neck, aimed a sweeping gore at my injured leg. I cried out as the chipped horn smashed into my thigh, knocked me off my feet.

  Fresh, white-hot agony bloomed.

  The minotaur collapsed back, utterly spent, chest heaving in wet ragged breaths. It had made us pay. The two Psiloi stones faltered and fell as my concentration shattered. I was prone again, clutching my bleeding leg.

  Lena's eyes widened. "NIHL!" She was on it instantly—no pause, no ceremony. As the beast lay defenseless, she channeled all remaining rage into a final swift assault. A single focused punch to the base of its skull ended its suffering with a sickeningly final crunch.

  Silence descended—true, profound silence. Broken only by Lena's heavy panting and the faint crackle of dying embers. The smell of burnt hair, blood, and ozone was thick.

  She stood over the fallen beast for a trembling moment, battle-fury draining from her face, replaced by sharp concern. She rushed to my side, boots crunching on torn earth. "Nihl! Shit, that looks bad."

  The fight was over. We were victorious but wounded and exhausted.

  "I'm fine—"

  A roar shattered the words in my throat. The air itself tore open.

  From the deepest shadows between gnarled trees, a roar erupted—not the feral challenge of the beast we'd just felled. This was deeper, older. A sound of bedrock cracking. A wave of pure grief and rage that vibrated through the soles of my boots, shook the very roots of the Labyrinthos. It wasn't just heard. It was felt—a primal shockwave that made my heart stutter.

  Lena froze mid-stride, hand outstretched toward my wounded leg. Her head snapped toward the sound, every muscle locked. The last embers of her Promethean Flame guttered out. The roar had shattered her focus.

  No concentration. No fire.

  And then it stepped into the clearing.

  A minotaur. But where the first had been beast, this was legend made flesh. It stood a full head taller, fur a brutal tapestry of dried blood and fresh rust. Its horns were polished obsidian—wickedly curved, thick as my thigh. In one fist it casually held a greataxe of pitted iron, so large it was a monument to violence itself.

  But its eyes... its eyes were the worst. They weren't feral. They burned with terrifying intelligent grief, fixed on the smoldering broken corpse of its fallen kin.

  Oh crap. Big brother just appeared.

  The Red Minotaur took a single step forward. The ground trembled—a subtle but undeniable shift that sent fresh pain up my leg. Its gaze, heavy as a tombstone, lifted from the dead. Locked onto us.

  No mindless hunger. Only a promise, a vow of vengeance.

  Lena slowly sank into a fighting stance, hands coming up. But no fire answered her call—only pale knuckles, wide shocked eyes reflecting the monstrous form. She took a half-step back, a subconscious movement that placed her body more squarely between the new threat and my injured form.

  "Nihl—!" A strangled thread of sound.

  I pushed to reach my spear. My leg screamed, buckled beneath me. Helpless. We both were.

  The monster loomed over us, the heat of its breath a foul gust. Its shadow swallowed us whole. It raised the greataxe with effortless final motion. The echo of its world-shaking roar still hung in the air—a death sentence now being executed.

  And the axe began its descent.

  My hands shook. Cold sweat down my spine.

  This is it.