The moment Jorel, Ryen, and Jain stepped into the first zone of the maze, they were met with an overwhelming sense of dread. The oppressive atmosphere hung over them like a thick fog, suffocating and inescapable. The air was damp and heavy, carrying the faint metallic scent of blood and decay. The flickering torches along the narrow, winding corridors cast eerie shadows that danced on the cold, stone walls, heightening their sense of unease.
The trio moved cautiously, every step measured and deliberate. They knew that the physical pain traps could be anywhere, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to spring at any moment. The ground beneath their feet was uneven, strewn with debris and jagged rocks that threatened to trip them up. The sound of dripping water echoed ominously through the maze, a constant reminder of the darkness that surrounded them.
Jorel's heart pounded in his chest as he led the way, his eyes scanning the floor for any signs of danger. The tension in the air was palpable, each of them acutely aware that one wrong move could spell disaster. Despite their training and preparation, nothing could have fully prepared them for the reality of the maze—the sheer intensity of the fear and anticipation that hung over them like a dark cloud.
As they proceeded deeper into the maze, they encountered their first trap: a series of pressure plates embedded in the ground. Jorel noticed the subtle differences in the floor tiles—some were slightly raised, while others were worn smooth from years of use. He held up a hand to signal the others to stop.
"Watch your step," Jorel whispered, pointing to the pressure plates. "These tiles are triggers. Step on the wrong one, and we're done for."
Jain and Ryen exchanged tense glances, nodding in understanding. Carefully, they began to navigate the pressure plates, their movements slow and deliberate. The silence was deafening, broken only by the faint sound of their breathing and the occasional creak of the floor beneath them.
But despite their caution, a mistake was made. Ryen, his nerves frayed by the intense atmosphere, accidentally stepped on a hidden trigger. The sound of metal grinding against stone echoed through the corridor, followed by the sickening click of a trap being activated.
"Get back!" Jorel shouted, but it was too late.
Sharp spikes shot up from the ground with terrifying speed, piercing Ryen's legs before he could react. He cried out in pain, the sound reverberating through the narrow passage. Blood poured from the wounds, staining the stone floor beneath him.
Jorel and Jain rushed to his side, their hearts pounding in their chests. Ryen's face was contorted in agony, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The spikes retracted just as quickly as they had appeared, leaving Ryen crumpled on the ground, the pain nearly overwhelming him.
"We have to move," Jorel urged, his voice tight with urgency. "The walls are closing in."
As if on cue, the walls of the corridor began to shift, grinding forward with a low, ominous rumble. The narrow passage was becoming even narrower, the space rapidly closing in around them. There was no time to waste.
Jain grabbed Ryen under one arm, while Jorel took the other. Together, they dragged him through the corridor, their muscles straining with the effort. The walls pressed closer and closer, the grinding noise growing louder with each passing second. They could feel the cold stone brushing against their backs, the threat of being crushed all too real.
With a final, desperate push, they reached the end of the corridor just as the walls slammed shut behind them. They collapsed in a heap on the cold, hard floor, gasping for breath, their bodies trembling from the exertion. Ryen was pale and shaking, blood still oozing from the deep puncture wounds in his legs.
Jain quickly tore a piece of cloth from her sleeve and began to bind Ryen's wounds, her hands steady despite the fear that still clung to her like a shroud. Jorel kept watch, his eyes scanning the dimly lit corridor ahead for any signs of movement. The danger was far from over.
"We need to keep moving," Jain said softly, her voice laced with concern. "Ryen, can you stand?"
Ryen gritted his teeth, nodding weakly. "I'll manage," he said through gritted teeth, the pain evident in his voice.
With Jorel and Jain's help, Ryen managed to get to his feet, though he was clearly struggling to stay upright. Every step sent a jolt of pain through his body, but he refused to give in to the agony. They had to keep moving—there was no other option.
The trio pressed on, the corridor twisting and turning in ways that made it impossible to predict what lay ahead. The air grew colder as they ventured deeper into the maze, the darkness seeming to grow thicker with every step.
They soon found themselves in a new chamber, only to be greeted by a terrifying sight: rows of spinning blades suspended from the ceiling and rising from the floor, blocking their path. The blades moved in unpredictable patterns, their sharp edges glinting in the dim light. The sound of metal slicing through the air filled the chamber, a constant, menacing whirr that made the hair on the back of Jorel's neck stand on end.
Jain's eyes narrowed as she assessed the situation. "We'll have to time our movements perfectly to get through," she said, her voice steady despite the fear that gnawed at her insides.
Jorel nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the deadly blades. "I'll go first. I'll try to create a barrier to block some of the blades. Jain, you guide Ryen through once I've cleared a path."
Without waiting for a response, Jorel stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He focused on the pain in his shoulder, the sharp sting of the wound still fresh in his mind. Drawing on that pain, he began to channel it into a protective barrier, visualizing the energy forming a shield around him.
With the barrier in place, Jorel moved forward, slipping between the spinning blades with a precision born of desperation. The barrier held, deflecting some of the blades, but the effort was draining. Sweat dripped down Jorel's face as he pushed himself to his limits, his muscles straining with the effort.
Behind him, Jain guided Ryen through the gaps between the blades, her grip on his arm firm and steady. Ryen stumbled, nearly losing his balance as a blade sliced dangerously close to his leg, but Jain caught him, pulling him back just in time.
They made it to the end of the chamber, but not without injury. Jorel's barrier flickered and failed just as he reached the final set of blades, and he took a hit to his side, the blade slicing through his uniform and into his flesh. He gasped in pain but didn't let it slow him down. With a final, desperate effort, he used the pain to create his blood-red claws, slicing through the last set of blades and clearing the path for the others.
Jain and Ryen hurried through, their faces pale and drawn from the exertion. They collapsed on the other side, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, the sound of the spinning blades still echoing in their ears.
"We need to keep going," Jorel said, his voice hoarse from the effort. "There's no telling what's next."
Jain nodded in agreement, though she looked just as exhausted as the others. They had made it through the Hallway of Blades, but the true horrors of the maze were only just beginning.