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

  The atmosphere in the room froze. Yesteria’s expression faltered, Terrace swallowed nervously, and Morris, sitting at the back of the room, shot a stern look at the Manager.

  Edris arched an eyebrow, his fingers tapping lightly at his side.

  The Manager’s smile returned to its usual saccharine sweetness as he turned his attention back to the remaining group. “Of all the interns, Tesler was the first to complete his quota. Therefore, Tesler will be the first to finish his probation period.”

  At the mention of his name, Tesler’s eyes widened. The rest of the group turned towards the man who had been posing minimal presence ever since the Labyrinth began. Tesler, too, was peering at the Manager with evident perplexity.

  “Really?” He blinked and stuck a finger to himself. “M-me?”

  “Yes, you.” The Manager dismissed his concerns with a wave of his hand. “No need to be humble. The hardworking deserves to be rewarded.”

  The group exchanged even more complicated glances, but there was no time for questions.

  Tesler, his confusion still clear but now mixed with a spark of excitement, stood and moved toward the Manager. He hesitated at the doorway to the office, a dark, featureless space that led deeper into the heart of the company. The Manager smiled at him, nodding toward the door.

  “The Boss is waiting for you,” he said smoothly. “Your official badge awaits.”

  Tesler swallowed hard, unsure of what to make of it all. He turned back at the rest of the interns, giving them a brief nod of acknowledgement.

  “Good luck, you all.”

  Without further hesitation, Tesler entered the office, disappearing into the shadows beyond.

  “He never said that we were in a race for time,” Terrace muttered, his gaze flicking nervously between Edris and the others. “Only told us to finish our tasks…”

  The group fell silent, each pondering the implications of Tesler’s “promotion” out of all. The unease was palpable, yet no one had the nerve to question the Manager outright. After all, what good would it do? They were in this game together, but they were also very much alone, cut off from any real support.

  Edris’s gaze flicked over the scene, his mind racing with the weight of everything that had transpired. He was aware of every sound, every subtle movement around him.

  With Tesler now gone, the rest of them only remained in tense silence, waiting for something—anything—to happen. But as the minutes ticked away and nothing changed, doubt began to creep into the group. The countdown on their [PROFILE] screens was ticking steadily, and the air grew heavier with every passing second.

  Less than five minutes left.

  Yesteria was the first to break.

  “What about the rest of us?” she asked, voice tight with fear. “This is not fair. You just said we needed to complete our quotas. You didn’t say anything about speed!”

  The Manager stood still, his face impassive. He didn’t answer immediately. His silence hung in the air like a cold, suffocating fog.

  The seconds seemed to stretch on forever. Standing beside Yesteria, Terrace’s gaze pierced through his thick glasses, flickering to the countdown again. Four minutes left. Then three. Time was running out.

  “Do-does that mean, we’re all done for?” He swallowed.

  “Don’t say that,” Yesteria hissed, her heart had began to race. She clenched her fists and glared at the Manager. “So what are we supposed to do, now that the meek-looking guy went in? And the countdown. What happens if it drops to zero and we’re still in probation period?”

  All the interns were watching her now, and she could feel their eyes on her, the pressure building with every moment of inaction. She could feel it. That deep, gnawing fear at the back of her mind.

  The ticking clock loomed over them like a guillotine. Each player knew all too well from past Labyrinths that if the countdown reaches zero, it would mean that they’d all failed the [MAIN QUEST]. And failure to complete the [MAIN QUEST] within the time limit meant elimination.

  Although it was her first time in a Labyrinth, Yesteria, too, had come to the same conclusion.

  Morris turned to reach out to her, but the young woman slapped his hand away. She made a stride towards the horseman.

  “Answer me!”

  For a long moment, there was no answer.

  Then, the Manager spoke, his voice flat, almost bored. “You’ll see soon enough.”

  Yesteria’s breath hitched. His words sank into her like a weight in her stomach.

  She couldn’t stand it. Her hands trembled as she instinctively took a step back. Time was running out. The pressure in the air grew heavier, more suffocating as Yesteria’s eyes locked on the door to the Boss’s office. It was the only way out. Yesteria had to do something. She couldn’t wait.

  She wouldn’t.

  Yesteria bolted for the door.

  “Yesteria!”

  Before Morris could stop her, the woman bolted for the door. Her feet pounded against the floor as she dashed toward it, desperation fueling her every step. She had to make it. She had to get through, or she would die here, like the rest of them, stuck in this twisted Labyrinth.

  But just as she reached the door, the Manager was already there, moving with inhuman speed, his hand gripping her shoulder with an iron-like strength. Before she could scream, his other hand was at her throat.

  The strength of his hold sent her crashing to the floor, the cold marble biting into her skin. She tried to scramble, but before she could react, a crushing weight landed on her back, pinning her to the ground. His booted feet pressed into her spine, grinding into her like a vice.

  "Did you really think you could just waltz in there?" The Manager’s voice was low, full of mockery.

  Yesteria’s vision blurred as her skull throbbed from the pressure, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

  "Let me go!" she wheezed, struggling against his hold, but he only pressed harder, his foot digging into her ribs. She felt her pulse racing, the fear building up in her chest like a storm. She wasn’t going to die here, not like this.

  But before the pain could overwhelm her, something strange happened.

  In a blur of motion, she was lifted off the ground, her body pulled into the air as if by invisible hands. The world spun. She barely had time to register what was happening before she was slammed into something warm and solid, an arm wrapped around her waist.

  The Manager’s boot slammed into the floor right where her head had been a moment ago, the impact echoing through the room. The shockwave reverberated through her body, and she shuddered in relief, her heart still hammering in her chest.

  The room froze. No one moved. No one dared to breathe. The warmth let go of her, and Yesteria crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.

  She looked up, her breath shaky, and found herself staring at a dark-haired man.

  “You, you are…”

  Edris’s hands were now by his side, his pale eyes bearing flat stoicism. There was no hint of emotion in his face, no anger or frustration, just a serene calmness that seemed completely at odds with the situation.

  "Why, why did you save me?" she said, pushing against the ground, her voice ragged with panic. "Let me through! I need to—"

  She stopped abruptly, her voice trailing off as the weight of the situation hit her. Her tear-streaked face softened, and the anger that had fueled her actions now turned into a quiet desperation.

  "I would rather die here than be stuck in this place... forever." Her words were barely a whisper now, a shuddering admission that she had long suppressed.

  Edris didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. The room was quiet, save for the distant hum of the overhead lights and the faint rustling of paper from the cubicles.

  He turned his gaze to the Manager, who was standing with his hands clasped behind his back, a wicked grin spreading across his face. Edris’s eyes narrowed as he addressed him, almost with a sigh.

  "This is not very manager-like of you."

  The Manager’s smile widened, the corners of his mouth stretching unnaturally far as his lips peeled back to reveal a set of unnervingly sharp teeth.

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  "A shame," he mused. “I wanted to set an example for the rest with this lady over here.”

  Yesteria stood there, her body trembling, a mix of rage and fear still roiling within her.

  The Manager’s eyes glinted with malice, his posture suddenly shifting.

  “I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, interns,” he said. “Only those who truly want it will succeed. The rest will be discarded, one by one.”

  Edris’s gaze was unreadable, fixed on the horse-headed man, sizing him up. He then glanced around and saw Celio’s pale face and the others recoiling in fear.

  If they didn’t act soon, the Manager would pick them off at will—and they only had minutes left on the Labyrinth’s countdown.

  He had little interest in half-measures now. The Manager’s inhumane abilities had just proven how lethal he could be. They had to strike back before they all fell victim to it.

  Without another word, Edris slid his hand into the inside of his coat, fingers gripping the thin card that shimmered in the dim light.

  The [BLAZING TORRENT].

  In one swift movement, he slapped the card onto the ground. Reality trembled, a faint hiss seeping into the room as arcs of crimson light crackled around him. Then, all at once, a sea of flames erupted from where he stood, a searing heat rushing outward in a tidal wave of fire. Sparks danced in the suffocating air.

  The Manager’s dark eyes flared with momentary surprise as the blaze surged across the floor.

  Flames licked at the ankles of the sheep-headed workers, but they did not scream or bolt for safety. Instead, they were stationed at their desks, typing and muttering the company slogan with eerie devotion, even as the flames consumed them. Their woolen forms caught fire easily, and soon the office was a chaos of dancing embers.

  A wall of heat slammed into Edris, embers dancing through the air in dizzy spirals as the world around him burned. He could feel the flames crackling against his skin, bright crimson tongues licking across the office floor.

  “Master!” he heard Celio shout over the chaos, the boy’s voice quavering with both urgency and dread. But Edris had no time to respond directly.

  The Manager let out a furious bellow, turning to him with anger seething across his face. For a split second, his eyes left Yesteria and the others, focusing instead on the sudden inferno closing in around him, giving way to a few spare seconds.

  It was all he needed.

  “Celio!” Edris roared, voice strained through the smoke. “The door!”

  The beast tamer dashed forward, his golden hair dancing amidst the blaze. Over the roar of the flames, Edris heard Yesteria’s panicked gasp as Celio dragged her away from the center of the chaos. Meanwhile, Terrace cowered behind a toppled table, and Morris and Rico hurried to help Yesteria to relative safety.

  With the few seconds to spare, they’d be able to hold out.

  The roar of the fire filled their ears, sparks catching the edges of their clothe. Across the room, the Manager reared back, half silhouetted by flame.

  Edris exhaled, adrenaline pounding in his veins. He had no illusions about the [BLAZING TORRENT] finishing off the horseman—it wouldn’t be that easy.

  Already, he heard the Manager’s hiss of fury, the scrape of hooves on charred floor. The horseman pivoted at the corner of his eye, preparing to plow straight through the flames toward him.

  He’d have to rely on other abilities to hold out against that speed.

  Gritting his teeth, Edris tapped into the Surge. Pain immediately tore through his nerves as his body accelerated at unnatural speed. His lack of thermoception meant he barely felt the flames eating into his flesh, but that only meant he wouldn’t feel the flames incinerating him until it was too late.

  There was no time to dwell on it. He only needed a few more seconds of speed to draw the Manager’s attention away.

  With that fleeting advantage, Edris tore through the fire, his vision flickering at the edges. He could see the Manager rounding to intercept him again, so he thrust out his other hand, unleashing another stormlike blast from his palm—the Tempest.

  Mana usage in this Labyrinth was restricted, but Tempest wasn’t a standard mana-based spell, relying on a different power source entirely. A funnel of purple-hued wind that caught the Manager mid-lunge, forcing him to brace against the swirling current. Papers and half-burned debris whirled around them, the shrieking wind fueling the flames in a mesmerizing frenzy.

  The swirling winds howled, ensnaring the horseman in a cyclone that lacked the strength to injure him but at least kept him off-balance.

  “Master!”

  At that moment, Celio’s voice shouted across the inferno.

  Edris turned just enough to see the boy waving frantically. He and the others had nearly made it to the door.

  “Go in, quickly!” Edris shouted through clenched teeth, glancing over his shoulder. “Get through the door!”

  Celio’s voice echoed back in desperation. “We can’t! The door’s locked, it won’t budge!”

  Another roar from behind. The Manager bellowed in rage, struggling to break free from the Tempest’s swirling winds. Edris’s heart slammed against his ribs, his time with Surge waning. If the horseman got loose now, none of them stood a chance.

  A swirl of scorching air raked across his arm, and Edris whipped around. The Manager was close now, too close.

  Edris’s chest constricted. If the door remained locked, they would all roast here in this man-made inferno, or fall to the Manager’s hoofbeat.

  He had to act, and fast.

  With his good arm, Edris shoved a flaming cabinet towards the Manager. Taking advantage of the latter’s moment of pause, he reached into the remnants of his consciousness, pulling out another card.

  The [OMNIKEY].

  He yanked the card out, strangely unaffected by the blaze, shimmering in the inferno’s light.

  Edris hurtled through the flames with the Surge. Embers clung to his limbs, his skin peeling back in black flakes that exposed seared bone. The numbness from his condition kept him from succumbing to the pain, but he knew logically that it was only a matter of seconds before his body gave in.

  Behind him, the Manager’s enraged shriek rose, an animalistic scream of pure hatred. Edris glanced back in time to see the horseman lurch onto all fours, eyes glowing with an unholy frenzy. Fire parted around him as he galloped straight for Edris, hooves stamping through the flames, ready to trample him.

  Without hesitating, Edris flung the [OMNIKEY] toward Celio.

  “Use this!” he hollered.

  The plan was simple: unlock the door, get inside, anything to outrun the Labyrinth’s monstrous overseer. But as Celio raised both hands to reach for the key, everything came to a standstill.

  Without warning, the time had stopped.

  The card, mid-flight, hung suspended in the air. Flames ceased to flicker, turning into static shapes of unmoving light. The Manager’s roar cut off, leaving only a deafening silence. And the countdown on his [PROFILE]—the very thing driving them toward the door—was gone, or rather, it had halted completely.

  Edris’s breath caught in his throat. The floor beneath him dissolved into white, a blinding radiance swallowing the entire scene in one sweeping moment. It felt as if the very fabric of reality had cracked open.

  A deep, disorienting sense of dread washed over him, then he was falling, the sensation of emptiness roaring in his ears, until—

  “Intern Edris?”

  Edris blinked.

  There he stood, back in the dull office, the hum of fluorescent lights overhead, the rows of sheep-headed workers calmly typing away at their desks. No flames, no stench of burning wool, no Manager—just the sterile hush, like before.

  “Intern Edris, is something wrong?”

  He turned sharply, his heart still pounding, to see the deer-headed staff member standing by him, staring at him with wide, doe-like eyes. It took him a second to collect himself, to remember where he was—or more accurately, when he was.

  No trace of the carnage, no sign of burnt husks or scorched walls—nothing.

  Edris looked down at his own body, half-expecting the charred flesh and exposed bone. Instead, he found himself whole, clothes unburned, skin unscarred. It was like a reset, a step backward in time. His mind reeled, the shock twisting through him like a physical blow.

  Slowly, he raised his gaze to the deer-headed staffer’s worried expression.

  “You don’t look so well,” she said.

  In that brief instant, Edris thought he might vomit, the acrid stench of burning flesh still lodged deep in his mind.

  But outwardly, he maintained a quiet, serene expression. Then, locking his nerves behind the familiar fa?ade, he smiled.

  “It’s nothing."

  A voice mild and controlled, as if he had merely lost his footing.

  Across from him, the doe-eyed staffer—apparently oblivious to the dread in the air—beamed in relief.

  “Glad to hear that!” she chirped. “Now, if you’re all feeling well enough, let me give you a quick tour of the office before we finalize those contracts. I promise this won’t take long.”

  Edris didn’t answer. He was too busy taking in the room, the unchanged scene, trying to decide if the entire sequence had been a hallucination or if the Labyrinth had truly rewound time.

  He soon realized there was no need for that, as the other interns’ reactions gave him the clarity he needed.

  Yesteria collapsed to her knees, gasping and choking for air. She clutched at her throat, the phantom bruise still throbbing even if there was no visible mark. Terrace, on the other hand, leaned against a desk, violently retching onto the floor. Celio, Morris, and Rico, although had better reactions than the other two, still held expressions that left their faces in paled abhorrence.

  “Right this way!” The deer-headed staffer showed no sign of concern, her tone and expression still gleeful as she waved them onward.

  She led them down the rows of cubicles. The sheep-headed workers typed away in polite ignorance, echoing the same company slogans.

  The group emerged from a short loop around the office, returning to a large open space. The staffer placed a neat stack of papers on a nearby table.

  “Alright, all of you,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Here are your contracts. Once you’re done signing these, you’ll officially begin your probation period as interns. Isn’t that exciting?”

  Yesteria, cheeks sallow, dropped onto a chair, eyes unfocused as she massaged her throat. Across the room, Terrace tried to hide his shaky legs, pretending not to notice the mess he’d made earlier. Celio and Morris exchanged uneasy glances, turning to the dark-haired man.

  Edris glanced at the contract in his hands. His fingers brushed the paper, landing on the same blank space at the bottom he had filled in with his name before.

  That’s when the Manager walked in, just like before—calmly striding in as if no one was on the brink of hysteria.

  His eyes surveyed them all with the same cool detachment, an undercurrent of condescension in his voice.

  “Well, well,” the horseman drawled, “look at my batch of new arrivals. You will all be of great contribution to Archive X and will love it here just as much.”

  An icy wave passed through the group. Yesteria lurched forward, gagging. The Manager paused, tilting his head as if mildly curious at her obvious terror. But that didn’t stop him from continuing in his smooth tone, laced with mock sympathy.

  He locked eyes on Edris, noticing the pen balanced in his grip. A slight smile curved the Manager’s lips, the corners pulling unnaturally wide.

  “Well, Intern Edris?” he asked. “What do you say?”

  Edris stilled. He could feel Celio’s eyes on him, the trembling presence of Yesteria not far away, the choked tension hanging in the air. The moment stretched. His heart pounded, but his face remained composed.

  Whatever just happened, it meant one thing: the Labyrinth had a twisted sense of rewriting reality, and they had been forced back to a point before everything had gone to hell.

  Indeed, this was all part of the supposed Labyrinth game.

  With cold, unyielding composure, he looked up at the Manager’s amused expression. He didn’t have time for illusions. If there was no end to this dance of illusions, he would simply have to make it end.

  Edris exhaled, forcing a faint smirk that held no mirth.

  “Let’s see,” he murmured, and tapped the contract with the pen, never taking his eyes off the Manager. “I can’t wait to start.”

  Let the game begin again.