Raelyn leaned forward, tracing her fingers along the glowing star map that hovered above the table. Its shifting points of light mapped out humanity's reach, a vast network of colonies, space stations, and artificial worlds stretching far beyond the cradle of Earth. She let out a slow breath, taking in the sight of it—something so familiar yet so distant in this time.
"In my time," she began, her voice steady, "humanity is no longer bound to one planet. Not even one solar system. We've expanded across multiple galaxies, spreading like wildfire through the void. By the 32nd century, we became a Type 4 civilization—manipulating the fabric of space itself, harnessing the power of entire stars, and bending reality to our will in ways that would seem impossible to you now."
Amara listened in silence, her sharp green eyes scanning the map as Raelyn spoke. She offered no reaction, no visible awe, just quiet calculation.
Raelyn continued. "The colonies aren't just on planets anymore. Entire artificial worlds have built—Dyson spheres surrounding stars, city-sized structures floating in the intergalactic medium, self-sustaining stations on the event horizons of black holes. There are planets we've terraformed, others we've stripped bare for resources, and some that humanity... abandoned." Her fingers hesitated over a darkened region of the map.
"Abandoned?" Amara finally spoke, tilting her head slightly.
Raelyn nodded. "There are places we reached that we shouldn't have. Some planets were... wrong. Not in a way we understood, but in ways that made us leave. Not because we couldn't survive there, but because something didn't want us to."
A heavy silence hung between the. Amara's expression remained unreadable, though Raelyn caught the slight tension in her fingers as they rested on the table.
"And yet," Raelyn continued, shifting the focus, "humanity's hunger for expansion hasn't stopped. We've mapped galaxies in their entirety, sent probes beyond our observable universe, and begun experiments on moving between realities. Even now, there are projects dedicated to breaching dimensions we don't fully understand—because if there's one thing humanity does best, it's pushing limits."
She leaned back slightly, glancing at Amara. "And the war? It ended long before my time. Whatever scars it left behind, whatever consequences, they aren't felt anymore. It's history—just another chapter in humanity's endless march forward. The only thing that matters now is what's next."
Amara let out a slow breath, finally looking away from the star map to meet Raelyn's gaze. "And what is next?"
Raelyn's lips pressed into a thin line. "Another galaxy. Another expansion. Another conquest. And maybe, just maybe, we'll find out what's waiting for us in the dark."
A sharp knock echoed through the room, cutting through the weight of Raelyn's last words.
Amara straightened in her seat, her expression hardening. "Enter."
The door slid open with a soft hiss. A young assistant stepped inside, his posture stiff with protocol, "Ma'am, Mister Damien is here for the scheduled meeting."
Amara exhaled through her nose, glancing at Raelyn briefly before responding. "Let him in."
A few seconds later, Damien stepped through the doorway, his tall frame casting a long shadow as the ambient lighting adjusted his presence. He carried himself with a weight that hadn't been there before—something pressing against him, unseen yet palpable. Beside him, Eden followed in near silence, her gaze sharp and assessing.
Raelyn's breath hitched the moment their eyes met.
It lasted only a second—Eden's surprise, that flicker of recognition—but it was enough. Then, as if it had never happened, her expression smoothed over into quiet indifference.
Amara, however, wasn't focused on Eden. She studied Damien, frowning. "You look different," she murmured, tilting her head slightly. "More stressed. Are you overworking yourself again?"
Damien let out a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "What else is new?"
"You should take better care of yourself," Amara said, her voice carrying something close to genuine concern. "We don't want to lose a mind like yours."
Damien smirked, sharking his head. "I'll be fine."
Amara turned to Raelyn and gestured toward her. "This is Raelyn. Family from... afar." The vague explanation was enough to satisfy Damien for now, though Eden's gaze lingered just a moment longer on the girl before shifting back to Amara.
The conversation shifted, as it always did, to business. Talk of expansion, of planets on the verge of colonization of worlds still under dispute. Humanity's progress stretched ever forward, and Damien was at the heart of it. Discussions blurred between logistics ethics, resources and control.
And then it happened.
A chuckle. Soft. Amused. Coming from nowhere.
Damien froze, his fingers tightening against the table. "Was that...?"
The chuckle came again, this time layered—almost doubled. A voice laughing over itself.
Amara's eyes narrowed. "Is there someone else in here?"
"No," Raelyn whispered, her body tensing.
The laughter grew, rising in pitch, in weight, in sheer presence. Then—
A voice.
Monstrous. Husky. Dripping with hatred.
"Two. Two. Two of her lineage ."
The room's temperature plummeted. Damien felt ice creep up his spine, dread coiling in his stomach like a living thing. He knew that voice.
"But no. No. That's not possible." The voice growled, distorting, as if something was warping it mid-sentence. "Time. Yes... time. Both not form here. Two spawn in this time? I hate this."
A black mist began curling along the floor, writhing like smoke from an unseen fire.
Damien's breath hitched. "What's happening?"
Eden gripped his wrist firmly, her voice calm. "Breath. In and out."
Raelyn scrambled backward, pressing herself against the chair. "Amara—what is this?!"
Amara shook her head, eyes darting across the room. "I don't know." But even as she said it, something in her mind clicker. That voice. The way it spoke of lineage. Of hatred. It wasn't possible, but—
The laughter returned, sharper now, like shattered glass scraping against itself. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."
The mist thickened.
Then the floor collapsed.
A void of absolute blackness yawned open beneath them, swallowing them whole before they could react.
Raelyn hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from her lungs as she tumbled forward.
"No. No, no, no."
She knew this place.
Jagged stone stretched outward in impossible directions. Cold, pulsing walls shifted in the distance, reshaping themselves as if they were alive. A faint hum vibrated through the air, not mechanical, not organic—something other.
This was the maze.
"No," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "No, no, no. It can't be."
Damien groaned somewhere to her left, pushing himself upright. His hands trembled his breathing ragged.
The voice slithered into his mind again. 'You will suffer for all of eternity.'
Damien clutched his head, his pulse hammering. "Shut up. Get out of my head."
The voice only laughed, echoing through the twisted corridors before fading.
Eden was by his side in an instant, her hand steady on his shoulder. "Breathe," she reminded him softly. "You're here. Focus on that."
Raelyn's body shook. "We have to get out we have to—"
Amara placed a hand on her shoulder. "Raelyn." Her voice was firm, grounding. "Breathe."
Raelyn sucked in a sharp breath, than another. Slowly, her eyes lifted to meet Amara's
"What is this place?" Damien demanded, his voice still edged with panic.
Raelyn pulled her knees close, pressing her forehead against them. "It's alive," she murmured. "And it wants to kill us."
Damien's stomach twisted. "That's not—this can't be real. It's a nightmare. A hallucination."
Amara's jaw tightened. "No, Damien. It's real."
"How do you know?"
"Because this is our second time here," Amara answered grimly.
Damien turned to Raelyn, searching for denial, for something that would ground him back in reality.
But Raelyn only nodded. "She's right."
The air felt heavier, thicker. The walls shifted again, the sound of stone scraping against stone reverberating through the endless halls.
Damien ran a hand through his hair. His thoughts churned, trying to force logic onto something that had none. "No. This—this doesn't make sense. a place like this can't exist. It defies physics, time, everything."
Eden stepped closer. Without warning, she flicked his forehead.
Damien jerked back, scowling. "What the hell?"
She arched a brow. "That feel real enough?"
He blinked. His skin still tingled from the sting. Slowly, something in his expression cracked—his lips parted slightly, a breathless, disbelieving laugh escaping. It sounded half-crazed.
Raelyn exhaled. "The first time I came here, I told myself the same thing. That it wasn't real. That I was dreaming. But the sooner you accept that this is reality, the better your chances of surviving."
"Surviving?" Damien repeated, his stomach twisting. "You're saying this place can kill us?"
Raelyn's silence was answer enough.
Amara crossed her arms. "We got out once. We can do it again."
"How?" Damien demanded. "You seem to know something."
Amara hesitated, then glanced at Raelyn.
Raelyn's fingers curled around the fabric of her pants. "The heart," she whispered.
Damien frowned. "The heart?"
"This place isn't just a labyrinth," Amara explained. "It's... alive, like Raelyn said. And every living thing has a heart. A core. If we can find it—"
"We might be able to stop it," Raelyn finished.
Damien exhaled sharply. None of this made sense, but what choice did he have?
Eden placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip steady. "They have no reason to lie to us," she said softly
Damien let out another breath. "Fine. Say I believe this. Where do we even start?"
Before anyone could answer, the silence shattered.
A wet, slithering noise echoed through the corridors.
Followed by the sound of something breathing.
Low. Deep.
Watching.
Waiting.
A shiver ran down Raelyn's spine.
"The Maze," she whispered.
"It's waking up."