✓ | 𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗿𝘂𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘀, luke castellan

ꜱɪxᴛʏ-ꜰɪᴠᴇ

The Blind Leading the Sighted.

🧶

They turned and exited the workshop, leaving the faint glow of sunlight behind as they stepped into the labyrinth’s consuming darkness once more. The transition was jarring. Rory felt the walls closing in around her almost instantly, the air stale and suffocating, pressing against her chest. She already missed the sunlight, the warmth of its rays still lingering on her skin. It had felt like power, like life itself, and now, with every step deeper into the labyrinth, that feeling drained away, leaving her hollow.

The air grew colder the deeper they ventured, the chill seeping into Rory’s bones. The scent of moss and damp stone pressed against her senses, clinging to her like a second skin. She could hear the faint drip of water somewhere in the distance, each drop echoing unnervingly in the silence. Her breathing was shallow, each inhale a reminder of how this place seemed to feed off their unease.

A sound behind her—a faint shuffle of footsteps—drew her attention, and she turned her head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of Kelli. Rory’s stomach tightened. She didn’t like Kelli. To be fair, she didn’t like any of the monsters in their so-called army, but Kelli was in a league of her own. She was powerful, yes, but that wasn’t what bothered Rory the most. It was her intelligence. Kelli wasn’t like the mindless henchmen that made up most of their forces, those who followed orders without question or thought. Kelli knew how to pull strings, how to manipulate people, how to test them. And Rory hated being tested.

Kelli’s presence grated on her nerves. The way she moved, so sure of herself, so predatory, set Rory on edge. The empousa always seemed to have a smug smile on her face, as if she knew something no one else did. It was infuriating. Rory kept her pace steady, unwilling to give Kelli the satisfaction of knowing she unsettled her. But it wasn’t just Kelli’s cleverness or her sly remarks that annoyed Rory. It was her games. She liked to push boundaries, to see how far she could go before someone pushed back. And lately, she’d been testing Luke—flirting with him, teasing him, acting as though she had some claim to his attention.

Not that Rory cared. At least, that’s what she told herself. Luke could do whatever he wanted; it wasn’t her concern. And yet, whenever Kelli leaned in too close or whispered something into Luke’s ear, Rory felt her jaw tighten, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. It wasn’t jealousy—not exactly. She couldn’t care less about what Luke did or who he did it with. But still, there was something deeply satisfying about the way he always seemed completely uninterested when Kelli made her attempts. Rory didn’t miss the way his eyes glazed over when Kelli leaned in or the subtle twitch of annoyance in his expression when she laughed too loudly at her own jokes.

After what felt like hours of trudging through the twisting, suffocating paths, the air seemed to shift. The walls around them gave way to open space. Blinking against the brightness, she stumbled forward, shielding her eyes as the scenery unfolded before her—a sprawling cityscape of glass skyscrapers glittering in the sunlight, cars honking in traffic, and people bustling along the sidewalks.

She blinked again, her mind struggling to process the scene. It was so different from the dark, stone corridors from which they came that it felt unreal. The hum of city life filled her ears, contrasting with the echoing silence they had left behind. A cool breeze brushed against her face, carrying the faint smell of saltwater and exhaust fumes. Off in the distance, against the backdrop of a clear blue sky, she could see the distinctive outline of the Space Needle.

Seattle. Somehow, impossibly, the labyrinth had spit them out in Seattle.

Luke cursed under his breath, his jaw tightening as he scanned their surroundings. With the labyrinth, nothing was impossible. The shifting, sentient maze obeyed no logic but its own.