Chloe’s voice cracked. “The—what?” She took a step back, shaking her head. “That’s impossible! The Labyrinth was destroyed centuries ago!”

  No one answered.

  Damien, usually the first to make some sarcastic remark, stayed quiet. Eli was watching me, his face unreadable, his hands curled into fists at his sides. Even Finn—calm, calculating Finn—had gone rigid. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his posture. Something… off.

  I couldn’t blame them.

  The Labyrinth wasn’t just another myth. It was the nightmare of every hero who’d ever heard its name—a shifting, living maze that had swallowed demigods whole. The idea that it had survived Rome’s fall? That it could still be out there, waiting?

  Yeah. I didn’t want to believe it either.

  Chiron was the only one who didn’t flinch. Of course. The guy had lived through millennia of disasters. For him, this was probably just Wednesday.

  “Quiet.” His tone cut through the room, sharper than I’d ever heard it. He turned to me. “Marcus, what do you mean? The Labyrinth was supposedly destroyed when ancient Rome fell.”

  I exhaled. “You don’t know.”

  Eli groaned. “Don’t start with the cryptic nonsense, Mark. Just say it.”

  I met Chiron’s gaze. “There were scrolls—plans drawn by Daedalus. They spoke of something strange.”

  Chiron’s expression darkened. “What do you mean?”

  “Daedalus didn’t just design the Labyrinth to be a maze,” I said slowly. “He wanted it to think.”

  Silence.

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  “The Labyrinth is alive,” I continued. “It expands whenever and wherever it wants. Time moves differently inside it. Distance shifts. You can walk for hours and never get anywhere—or take a single step and end up on the other side of the world.”

  Finn stiffened. His hands clenched at his sides. “Chiron… this is related, isn’t it?”

  Chiron’s jaw tightened. “Finn—”

  I folded my arms. “What’s going on?”

  Chiron sighed, something heavy settling in his shoulders. “Mark, if we could talk about this later—”

  “No.” The word came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. “No more secrets.”

  Damien nodded. “Mark’s right. We need to know. If Finn won’t tell us, then you should.”

  Finn’s jaw clenched. “I will. Just… not now. It’s not confirmed yet.”

  Chiron hesitated. Then, finally, he sighed. “Finn, I’m sorry. I have to tell them.”

  Finn swallowed hard, then turned to me. His expression was tight, guarded. “Mark, no matter what happens, you’re still my friend.”

  A chill ran through me. “What are you talking about?”

  Chiron’s voice was quiet but firm. “A few years ago, the Fates granted Finn a vision. A demigod—one who traveled through time—would be the cause of…” He hesitated.

  “The cause of what?” I demanded.

  Finn looked away.

  Chiron exhaled.

  “Mark… you will be the reason for Finn’s death.”

  ---

  The words crashed into me, knocking the breath from my lungs.

  “No.” My voice was hoarse. “That—that doesn’t make any sense.”

  Finn gave a dry, humorless chuckle. “Tell that to the Fates.”

  A strange roaring filled my ears—my own pulse, the wind outside, the weight of something massive shifting just beyond my understanding.

  I forced myself to breathe. “Fate isn’t set in stone.”

  “Isn’t it?” Finn’s voice was quiet.

  Chiron sighed. “Some fates can be changed, Marcus. But others…” He hesitated. “Some are written in iron.”

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t accept that.”

  Finn let out a breath. “You think I want this? That I want to look at you and know that someday, you’re going to be the reason I die?” His voice cracked. “You think I asked for this?”

  I clenched my jaw.

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?” My voice was quieter now.

  Finn hesitated. “Because I knew how you’d react.” He lifted his gaze to mine, and for the first time, I saw it—the weight he carried, the fear buried beneath his usual calm. “You’d try to change it. You’d do everything in your power to fight it. And that’s exactly how fate wins.”

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  “Self-fulfilling prophecy,” Chloe murmured.

  Finn nodded. “The Fates never tell you how something happens. Only that it will. The more you try to run from it, the faster you sprint toward it.”

  I hated it. I hated all of it.

  For a long moment, none of us spoke. The fire crackled, throwing flickering shadows against the cabin walls. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windowpanes.

  Then Finn let out a slow breath. “I don’t know how it’ll happen. Or when. But I do know one thing.”

  I swallowed hard. “What?”

  Finn’s expression was unreadable. “The horizon doesn’t fear the sea.” His voice was quiet, steady. “It doesn’t rage against the waves. It just is. No matter how many storms crash against it, how many tides rise and fall, it remains.”

  The words sent a strange, twisting ache through my chest.

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  Finn gave me a small, sad smile. “I’m saying that the sea never stops moving forward, Mark. No matter what happens, no matter how much we wish it would pause, it won’t. Fate’s the same way. And one day…” His voice trailed off.

  I didn’t want to hear the rest.

  But I did.

  “One day,” Finn continued softly, “the sea will reach the horizon.”