LABYRINTH 24.

  “Intern Celio!”

  The Manager’s footsteps echoed through the silent office as he approached the golden-haired boy, still wiping down the last of the office windows.

  Celio paused, the mop in his hands now frozen as he noticed the Manager’s shadow looming over him. According to the probation manual, he was required to run through every window and floor of the company once by the end of the day.

  He turned, a little startled, and looked up at the Manager’s beaming horse face.

  “Intern Celio.” The Manager’s eyes sparkled with the same artificial warmth that made Celio uncomfortable. “Would you be so kind as to escort one of the workers to the Wellness Center for me?”

  The horseman gestured toward the trembling sheep-headed employee behind him. The worker was holding a thick stack of half-finished paperwork, a look of exhaustion and fear in his eyes.

  Celio hesitated. “The Wellness Center?”

  “Indeed,” the Manager confirmed with a smile. “Don’t worry, it’s just a standard procedure. A little visit to the Wellness Center helps to keep things running smoothly. We’re all about maintaining our employees’ well-being here.”

  Celio wasn’t entirely convinced, his eyes shifting from the Manager to the sheep worker behind him. The latter’s nervous demeanour, coupled with the former’s overly pleasant tone, raised more questions than answers.

  But despite the discomfort gnawing at him, Celio knew better than to question orders directly without getting more information first—at least, not openly. He glanced at the worker, who avoided his gaze, and sighed.

  “Right, of course,” Celio said, clearing his throat. "I’ll take him there."

  The Manager gave him an approving nod, his smile never wavering. “Good. It’s essential that everyone does their part to help maintain the balance. Do take your time—after all, it’s all for their health, isn’t it?”

  Celio nodded slowly, but his heart remained on the ropes as he led the worker toward the door. The Manager, still standing behind them, watched silently as they exited, his presence hanging heavy in the air.

  As Celio walked down the sterile corridor with the trembling worker, the dim lights overhead buzzed with an almost oppressive hum. The fluorescent glow cast long shadows along the walls, and the quiet was only broken by the sound of their footsteps.

  Celio tried to make small talk, but the worker barely responded, his eyes darting nervously. There was an unspoken tension between them, and Celio couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of dread.

  When they reached the door to the Wellness Center, the guards bearing reptilian faces immediately stepped forward, blocking the entrance.

  One of them hissed something to Celio, who only raised an eyebrow in confusion.

  “I’m just escorting him to the center. The Manager sent me.”

  The guard nodded curtly but didn’t move. He signalled the sheep worker to step forward, while his eyes remained glued on Celio.

  Celio glanced back at the worker, whose trembling had only intensified. The worker’s woolly brow was now beaded with sweat, and he was bleating something under his breath, not something for Celio to understand. The guard beside him watched this exchange in silence.

  Before Celio could ask any questions, the guards swiftly moved forward, one grabbing the worker by the arms.

  The guard hissed something, and the worker gave a final, desperate glance at Celio, his protruding mouth quivering. And then, with brutal efficiency, the guards dragged him into the Wellness Center.

  The doors slammed shut behind them with a mechanical thud.

  Celio stood frozen for a moment, his heart racing. He could still hear the muffled sound of the workers bleating on the other side of the door. The silence after the doors shut felt unnaturally loud.

  He turned back toward the hallway and made his way back to the office, his mind racing with questions. What exactly was going on in that Wellness Center? Why had the worker been so desperate to avoid it?

  He didn’t know what to do with this information, but he knew who might.

  ***

  “You went to the Wellness Center?”

  Edris looked up, placing the stack of papers onto the printer.

  “No—I mean, yes, but not inside,” Celio said, recapping the situation from earlier. “I took one of the workers to the front, but the guards there didn’t let me through. The worker was acting strange, too, but I couldn’t understand anything he was saying.

  “Master, I think something else is going on here.”

  The dark-haired man nodded. He pressed a button on the printer and watched as it obediently began scanning again.

  “Have you completed your quota?” He asked.

  Celio blinked at the question. “Almost. I just have one more round of wipes to go through.”

  “Go complete that first,” Edris said. “Although this place seems safe for now, we’re still lacking information on the nature of this Labyrinth. Before we gain more insights, it is better to play by the rules.”

  Celio bobbed his head. “I understand, Master!”

  Watching the boy trickle off to his tasks, Edris returned his attention to his intern work. He was on his last copy of papers, and he suspected that he’d be able to complete the scanning by sundown.

  The tasks were simple enough for now—complete the quotas, follow the rules, keep a low profile. Though, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about this Labyrinth.

  It was too quiet, too peaceful.

  Edris had seen enough of these twisted Labyrinths to know that tranquility was often the precursor to chaos.

  After a while, Edris finished his final scanned package for the day. The task felt more like a routine than any meaningful contribution, but it gave him time to gather his thoughts.

  Slipping away from the group, Edris found a quiet balcony at the end of one of the back hallways, out of sight from the busy offices and the constant chatter of sheep-headed workers. It was there, surrounded by the dull hum of distant machinery, that he allowed himself to pause.

  He leaned against the railing, staring out at the starless void that stretched endlessly before him.

  Someone stepped out from the shadows.

  Morris.

  The older man, despite his worn-down appearance, had a way of approaching without making a sound. Edris didn’t mind.

  Morris leaned against the stone railing beside him, staring at the nothingness in the distance. After a long moment of silence, he spoke.

  “You feel it too, don’t you? Something’s off about this place.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “What do you mean?” Edris tilted his head.

  He didn’t admit it outright, but he’d been thinking the same thing. Hearing it from the experienced Labyrinth veteran only reaffirmed his hunch.

  He glanced sideways, half-expecting Morris to pour out his seasoned past Labyrinth stories, maybe some insights that could be useful for Edris to see through the smoke and mirrors of this illusion.

  What came out of his mouth, however, was something completely different.

  You know," Morris began, his voice rough but steady, "I've spent most of my life chasing orders. Worked for His Majesty in Adalan’s Resource Faction... running from place to place, collecting things for people who cared more about the implications rather than the items themselves. Heck, I’ve already been familiar with Labyrinths before this whole crazy surge began."

  He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head.

  "You'd think a man who spends his whole life being told where to go, what to do, would have some peace at the end. But there's never time. Not for family. Not for anything that matters."

  Edris’s eyes flicked to the older man, studying him, but his gaze returned to the darkness beyond the balcony. He didn’t need to speak; Morris was unraveling a story of his own accord.

  "By the time I was done with all that, my granddaughter... she didn’t even remember me." Morris let out a quiet chuckle, a sound that was hollow and heavy with weariness. "She was just a little girl when I had to leave her. Now... now, I’m just a name she might recall in passing. I’m sure of it. A ghost."

  Edris listened, allowing the words to settle in the air.

  Morris gave a deep sigh, his shoulders sagging as if weighed down by the regrets of a life spent chasing shadows. Then he turned to Edris, as if making a decision in that very moment.

  “You know,” Morris continued, the tone in his voice shifting slightly, as if he was letting something unspoken slip into the air, “I’ve seen this all before. I’ve seen the games they play. I’ve been through enough Labyrinths to know that things rarely go as smoothly as they seem.”

  Edris turned his head slightly, studying the older man. “And you’re telling me this because?”

  "Something about you is different from the rest of them.”

  “I’m here to survive, just like everyone else.”

  “Of course,” Morris said, staring right into his pale eyes. “But not quite the same. You see things differently. You’re not all about surviving. You’re playing a different game, and I need to know if you’re willing to play it."

  Edris raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

  The older man hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "I’m not getting out of this. I mean, even if I do, I wouldn’t last long. Not with my body the way it is. I don’t have much longer, and I know that. But if I don’t make it out... I want you to look after my granddaughter.”

  Edris blinked twice.

  “Granddaughter?”

  “She’s... she’s a little spoiled. She didn’t have the kind of life you or I had, but she’s still good at her core—"

  “Which one is it, Yesteria? Or Rico?” he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact.

  Morris froze, lips parting just slightly in surprise. And with that, Edris didn’t need to hear the rest of the man’s words. He already had his answer.

  He chuckled half-heartedly.

  “Looks like it’s Yesteria, then. You wanted to ask how I knew?” Edris said. “It wasn’t hard to guess. You weren’t very smooth with the transitions.”

  Morris’s gaze softened, and he exhaled slowly, almost into a laugh.

  "You're sharper than I thought." He paused, his lips pulling back into a rueful smile. "But you're right. It’s Yesteria. I never thought I’d be reunited with my granddaughter after thirty years in a place like this. A place where I’d need to think about her survival..."

  Edris remained silent, waiting for the older man to continue. His thoughts were already calculating, making sense of everything that had been said until now.

  Morris’s voice broke through his thoughts. "Our family, we’ve been fortunate with wealth—one of the oldest in the land. But wealth doesn’t prepare you for the kinds of things the Labyrinth brings. Yesteria grew up with more love than she could have ever wanted, sheltered from any real hardships. Spoiled, even. It wasn’t until the last few years when she married that man that she really left home and entered the greater world."

  Edris frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered Morris’s words. It wasn’t hard to see what the older man meant. Yesteria had never been prepared for cruelty, let alone the kind of suffering the Labyrinth forced upon people. Her meager experiences would only carry her so far in a place like this.

  The Labyrinth wasn’t interested in kindness. It wanted survival.

  "Yesteria’s never known true hardship. Not like I did. She had everything, but now... she’s here, and the world she grew up in is so far removed from this place that it’s hard for her even to make sense of what’s happening. I fear it’ll break her before she has the chance to adapt."

  Edris glanced at him, assessing him more closely. "You know that it’s not enough just to want to protect her. Not here. If she’s going to make it, she’ll have to grow up fast. And that won’t happen unless she gets tough."

  Morris looked away, visibly affected by the truth of Edris’s words. He’d known that much, but hearing it out loud still stung.

  "I know," he muttered. "I’ve tried to prepare her, but... this place—this isn’t something you can prepare for. It changes you, takes everything you thought you knew, and then twists it into something unrecognizable."

  The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of their conversation pressing down on both men. Edris stood there, processing what Morris had said. He wasn’t one for sentimentality, but the old man was right. A fragile line existed between survival and destruction, the harsh truth that no one was safe in the Labyrinth.

  Finally, Morris spoke again, his voice quieter now. "If something happens to me... I need you to make sure she survives. If she can’t do it on her own, I want you to help her, Edris. You’re the only one that can achieve that here."

  Edris didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he turned back towards the balcony, peering out.

  "Sir, you must be misunderstanding something about me," he said with a smile, his eyes glinting in the darkness. “I’m a traveller who acts on his wishes and his alone. Charity isn’t exactly an item on the list.”

  He didn’t go around making promises to people. In fact, he never had, and he didn’t plan on starting now.

  “A traveller, huh…” Morris chuckled, the sound dry and faint. "I can see that."

  Edris didn’t respond, and Morris paused, his expression turning more serious.

  "But you see, it’s not just about charity. Yesteria... she’s got everything handed to her, but she’s too naive. You can see it in her. She doesn’t have the grit for this place."

  "The ‘grit’ is not something that can be taught, Morris," Edris said flatly. "She’ll have to figure that out herself."

  Morris sighed again, this time deeper. There was a long silence between them, both men lost in their own thoughts.

  Then, abruptly, he turned his gaze back to Edris.

  “The pendant around your neck,” Morris said. "It’s the Sacrificial Hourglass, isn’t it?"

  Edris’s eyes widened slightly—just enough for Morris to notice. The air around them shifted in an instant. Edris's calm, cool demeanor faltered, just for a moment, and Morris caught the shift.

  "When did you...?" Edris’s voice trailed off as he turned to face the old man fully.

  "I saw it when you went into the bathroom earlier," Morris admitted quietly. "I’ve seen a few sacred artifacts in my time. The Sacrificial Hourglass... it’s a rare one. It’s not something someone gets by accident."

  Edris didn’t respond right away. He had assumed the pendant’s origins were mysteries, hidden from the world. But here was Morris, a man who had lived a lifetime of secrets, now seeing through its guard.

  "I know you have many questions, Morris continued, his voice calm but steady. "Which is why I’m offering answers. I’ve lived too long not to know the value of an exchange. Information for protection. I’ll trade you what I know, but in return, I want you to keep an eye on her."

  “Yesteria?”

  Morris nodded, and Edris let the silence linger between them. He didn’t trust easily, but this was no ordinary situation. And Morris wasn’t ordinary either.

  “What do you say, traveller?”

  ***

  The following day, the players regathered in the main office, starting on their tasks once more.

  Most of them had already finished their intern tasks the day before, so rather than work, the morning consisted more of a lingering uncertainty that trailed each player like an invisible fog.

  Without further instructions, the players could only dawdle at their stations, repeating the tasks mindlessly as the countdown gradually decreased.

  When thirty minutes were left of the countdown, the Manager strolled into the office.

  He cleared his throat, his unnaturally bright smile never faltering as he clapped his hands together, a signal for everyone’s attention. The interns, wearing the quiet exhaustion from their menial tasks, straightened at once.

  “Excellent work, everyone,” the Manager said with a voice so saccharine, it nearly dripped. “Your diligence and commitment have been recognized. It is time for you all to be rewarded for your hard work.”

  Celio, ready to bend over a mop and bucket once more, blinked in confusion.

  “Wait, really?” He spoke before he could stop himself, his voice thick with doubt. “We’re done?”

  “Yes, really,” the Manager responded with a slight chuckle. “The latest update told me that you have all met your quotas, and it’s time to receive your due. Come forward, each of you. You’ve earned it.”

  There was a collective murmur of confusion among the group. It seemed too easy, almost too good to be true.

  The others watched, and some, like Yesteria and Rico, exchanged glances of disbelief, muttering among themselves about the oddity of it all.

  It hadn’t been that long since they'd arrived and took on their [ROLE]. The ease with which their tasks were completed was bound to raise some subtle concerns.

  The Manager’s expression shifted as he moved his gaze to Edris, Celio, and a few others, including Morris, whose doubt was written all over his face.

  “And yet,” the Manager said, voice shifting in tone ever so slightly, “not everyone will be receiving the full benefit.”

  At his words, Yesteria frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “While all of you have completed the quotas, the company is facing… limited resources. Some sacrifices must be made,” the Manager explained patiently.

  “Only one of you can pass the probation period today.”