Alex stumbled out of the vortex, collapsing onto the soft earth of the Whisperwood clearing. Echo rushed to their side, concern etching lines on his face. "Are you alright?"
Alex took a shaky breath. "I think so," they rasped, their voice hoarse from the ordeal. "We… we did it, Echo. The fragments…" Their words trailed off as they saw the clearing, or rather, what remained of it.
The vibrant greenery had vanished, replaced by a wasteland of cracked earth and twisted trees reaching towards the sky like skeletal fingers. The air hummed with a malevolent energy, a chilling whisper that seemed to crawl beneath their skin.
"What… what happened?" Echo stammered, his eyes wide with horror.
A cold realization dawned on Alex. The fragments may be gone, but the labyrinth – the embodiment of destruction itself – wasn't finished. The fragments were its puppets, its instruments of chaos. Now, free from their influence, the maze itself asserted its dominance.
