[Oliver’s PoV]

  “FO—OD.”

  The word came out broken. It wasn’t a voice; it was a sound forced through something that wasn’t built to speak.

  Oliver’s mind barely had time to process it before the creature repeated itself, louder this time.

  “FOO—D.”

  The thing’s arm extended, its muscles rippling under the slick, blue-black membrane. Two of the writhing tendrils on its back shot forward, snapping through the air like living spears. They pointed at him and Mordred.

  There was no time to think.

  Oliver dropped low, the tendrils slicing through the space where his head had been a heartbeat earlier. The air hissed as the appendages struck the wall behind him, leaving deep, smoking grooves in the white surface.

  Oliver moved on instinct.

  Energy surged through his veins, his hands igniting in a thin, golden flame.

  He lunged forward, closing the distance in a blur. The creature’s movements were slow in comparison, its head still tilted unnaturally, its milky eyes unfocused. It didn’t even seem to register him approaching.

  Perfect.

  Oliver twisted his body mid-step, pulling his arm back for the strike. The Energy built in his fist, the air around it trembling from the pressure.

  'Explode.'

  He could already see it. The impact, the burst of heat, the creature dissolving into ash just like the slimes outside.

  He drove his fist forward.

  But the blow never landed.

  The momentum stopped dead. His arm jerked backward, the tendons in his shoulder screaming as something wrenched him off balance.

  He stumbled, eyes wide, his mind lagging half a second behind his body. Then he saw it, the chain.

  The silver chain that bound him to Mordred held him in place.

  “What—” he began, his voice rough with disbelief.

  Behind him, Mordred was running.

  He was sprinting in the opposite direction, dragging the chain. The links rattled violently between them.

  “What the hell are you doing?!” Oliver shouted, fury and confusion mixing in his voice.

  Mordred didn’t slow down. “What does it look like?! I’m running!”

  The creature’s tendrils tore free from the wall, snapping toward them again. One missed Oliver by inches, the tip slicing through the air with a sound like tearing metal.

  Mordred’s voice came through the chaos, sharp and unbothered despite the panic in the air.

  “I don’t have anything that can fight that thing! If the slime gets me, you’ll be stuck fighting two of them and still chained to me!”

  “But—But I can take it down in one hit!” Oliver’s voice was sharp, strained, his hands gripping the chain that bound him to Mordred.

  The two of them were locked in a tug-of-war, each pulling in opposite directions. The creature ahead of them didn’t wait for their argument to end.

  It moved.

  The humanoid mass of blue-black flesh surged forward, its six tendrils whipping through the air with terrifying precision. The creature itself was slow, lumbering, but its appendages moved with mechanical coordination. Each one striking from a different angle, forcing Oliver and Mordred to duck, twist, and stumble as they dodged for their lives.

  “One attack?” Mordred shouted over the chaos.

  “One attack!” Oliver snapped back, his eyes blazing with determination.

  He didn’t know what Mordred was thinking, but his expression changed, from irritation to something dangerously close to amusement.

  “Then do it!”

  Before Oliver could stop him, Mordred wrapped both hands around the chain and pulled.

  Hard.

  The force ripped Oliver off his feet, yanking him through the air in a wide arc. The world blurred around him, his stomach lurching as the chain whined under the strain.

  “What the hell are you—”

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  The rest of his sentence died in his throat as Mordred screamed, “Attack!”

  Oliver’s body whipped forward, momentum carrying him straight toward the creature’s torso. He barely had time to brace himself. His arm ignited in a burst of golden flame.

  He aimed for the chest, what passed for one, and swung.

  The air cracked with the force of the blow.

  But there was nothing there.

  The creature’s midsection disappeared, the entire mass of its chest collapsing inward like liquid being drawn away. The punch passed straight through empty space, the heat of his flames leaving only a faint shimmer in the air.

  Then he hit.

  Face-first.

  The rest of his body slammed into the creature, his shoulder and chest colliding with the gelatinous surface. The slime clung to him instantly. Cold and viscous, its texture was halfway between liquid and muscle.

  The ooze crawled up his neck, trying to seep inside him.

  “Pull me!” Oliver shouted, his voice muffled by the goo.

  “I am!” Mordred shouted back, straining as he dug his heels.

  Oliver’s body was still moving, the momentum carrying him past the creature’s side. The slime stretched, clinging to him in long, sticky strands before snapping free one by one.

  He could feel it burning as it peeled away, leaving a residue that hissed against his skin.

  Oliver’s body sailed through the air, spinning once before slamming into the far wall. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, his vision flashing white for an instant.

  He hit the ground hard, sliding to a stop. His hands shook as he pushed himself up.

  “Next time, maybe warn me before you turn me into a damn projectile!” he barked, his voice raw with anger.

  “You said one hit would do it!” Mordred shot back, his tone equal parts sarcasm and exasperation. “How was I supposed to know your punch would go straight through it?!”

  Oliver didn’t answer. His eyes were already on the creature.

  It hadn’t stopped.

  The thing stood in the center of the corridor, its torso reforming as the black ooze knit itself back together. The tendrils on its back writhed in agitation before snapping forward again.

  “Down!” Oliver shouted.

  A barrage of black projectiles shot toward them. Chunks of slime hardened midair like molten glass before splattering against the walls and floor. Each one hissed as it struck, eating through the pristine white wall like acid.

  “Run!” This time, it was Oliver shouting, abandoning the idea of facing the creature head-on.

  “Told you,” Mordred muttered under his breath.

  The two sprinted down the endless white corridor, the chain between them clinking and sparking as it dragged along the floor.

  Mordred led the way, his eyes scanning for an opening, while Oliver trailed close behind, using bursts of flame to burn away the remnants of black slime still clinging to his uniform and skin.

  “This way!” Mordred called, pointing toward one of the branching corridors.

  Oliver glanced in that direction and frowned. It looked exactly like all the others.

  Endless, uniform, sterile.

  Still, he followed.

  Every few meters, he risked a glance over his shoulder. The creature was still there, but its movements had slowed.

  'Easy,' he thought, 'far too easy.'

  “What are the odds this maze only has one of those things?” Oliver asked aloud.

  Mordred didn’t answer immediately. The two turned another corner, and another, until they found themselves in yet another identical hallway, lined with dozens of branching paths stretching into infinity.

  Finally, Mordred slowed, breathing hard. “You mean like the Minotaur’s labyrinth?”

  Oliver nodded, his tone grim. “Something like that.”

  Mordred slowed to a stop at the next junction, scanning the space.

  Oliver stepped up beside Mordred, eyes narrowing. The room ahead wasn’t like the others. The corridors that branched out from it were darker, and in three of them, a creature was approaching.

  Each one standing at the mouth of a different tunnel.

  Each one was identical to the creature they had just escaped.

  Their blue-black skin gleamed wetly under the dim light. Their bodies twitched, their tendrils coiling and uncoiling like serpents.

  And then, one by one, they spoke.

  “MI—ND.”

  “FO—OD.”

  “MI—NE.”

  The sound reverberated through the room.

  Mordred exhaled softly, his tone dry even in the face of horror. “Does that answer your question?”

  Oliver didn’t reply. His eyes darted between the three creatures, calculating distances, angles, and exits.

  Mordred’s gaze flicked between the corridors, his jaw tight. “Right. Okay. Not that one… definitely not that one…”

  The creatures began to move, slow and deliberate, leaving trails of black sludge.

  “This one!” Mordred barked suddenly, pointing toward a corridor on the far right. He didn’t wait for agreement. He just ran.

  Oliver was right behind Mordred. The walls of the maze seemed to stretch endlessly.

  They were almost at the end of the passage when the hallway curved sharply. Leaving no time to react to the creature awaiting them on the other side.

  This one was too close.

  It was right there, a hand’s breadth from Mordred’s face.

  The thing’s skin glistened blue-black, its eyeless head twitching as it lunged forward, tendrils snapping like whips.

  Oliver didn’t think.

  He grabbed the chain with both hands and yanked.

  Mordred’s body jerked backward, narrowly avoiding the creature’s strike. The tendrils sliced through the air instead of Mordred's head.

  But Oliver didn’t stop there.

  He was still within striking distance.

  The heat of Prometheus surged through his veins, igniting his arms in golden flame. He dropped low, planting his feet firmly into the smooth floor. The air shimmered around him as he pivoted, twisting his body into a perfect cross.

  He drove his fist forward.

  The punch connected, barely.

  The flames licked across the creature’s abdomen, searing a line through its slick surface. But the creature moved in that same unnatural way, its body parting around the blow, reforming itself an instant later.

  Oliver’s arm tore through empty space.

  His fist kept going until it hit the wall.

  The entire corridor trembled, a deep vibration running through the floor and ceiling. Cracks spiderwebbed before the entire section of wall shattered outward in a burst of debris.

  For a moment, everything was silent. Oliver blinked through the haze, his arm still burning faintly with residual Energy. His knuckles ached, but he didn’t care.

  “Through it!”

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