TMR - Thomas x X-reader fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Maze Beneath

The group moved in uneasy silence, the weight of Y/N's discovery pressing heavily on their minds. The sterile corridor stretched ahead, its faint hum the only sound as they left the surveillance room behind.

"Phase Two," Minho muttered, his voice tight with frustration. "What the hell do you think that means?"

"Nothing good," Newt replied, his tone grim.

Y/N stayed silent, her mind racing. The phrase "synaptic integration" repeated like a mantra, a puzzle piece she couldn't place. She clenched her fists, the words from the file etched into her memory. Advanced compatibility. What had WICKED done to her?

Thomas slowed his pace, falling into step beside her. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low.

Y/N nodded, though her expression betrayed her uncertainty. "I just don't understand," she said. "Why me? Why am I the one they're focusing on?"

Thomas hesitated, his brow furrowing. "Maybe it's not just you," he said. "Maybe all of us are part of this... Phase Two. They just haven't shown us how yet."

The thought chilled her, but she nodded. "Either way, we need to figure it out before they move to the next phase."

The corridor split ahead, branching into two identical paths. Thomas stopped, turning to the others.

"Which way?" he asked.

Y/N stared at the walls, her eyes scanning for clues. The symbols she'd seen earlier were absent, replaced by a smooth, featureless surface.

"I don't know," she admitted.

Minho stepped forward, his expression hard. "Guess we pick one and hope for the best."

"Or the worst," Winston muttered under his breath.

"Hold on," Y/N said, her gaze narrowing. She stepped closer to the left-hand path, a faint vibration tingling under her fingertips as she brushed the wall. "There's something... here."

Thomas joined her, pressing his hand to the same spot. The wall responded with a low hum, a faint line of light appearing beneath their touch.

"That's new," Newt said, stepping closer.

The light grew brighter, spreading into a doorway. It slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a spiraling staircase descending into darkness.

"Oh, come on," Minho groaned. "Of course it's down."

Thomas glanced at Y/N. "What do you think?"

She hesitated, then squared her shoulders. "I think we go," she said.

The staircase was narrow, the air growing colder as they descended. Their footsteps echoed, the sound swallowed by the oppressive darkness below.

"Anyone else feel like we're walking into a horror movie?" Chuck asked, his voice trembling.

"Yeah," Minho replied dryly. "Except we're the idiots who don't turn around."

The group chuckled softly, the humor a thin veil over their mounting tension.

At the bottom, the staircase opened into a vast chamber. The walls were lined with towering glass cylinders, each one filled with a viscous, glowing liquid. Suspended within were shapes—human shapes.

"What the shuck..." Minho whispered, his voice trailing off.

Y/N stepped closer to one of the cylinders, her breath catching in her throat. The figure inside was unmistakably a Glader. His features were slack, his eyes closed, but she recognized him immediately.

"It's Zart," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Newt's face went pale. "But... Zart's dead. We saw him—"

"Thrown into the Maze," Y/N finished, her stomach churning.

Thomas's expression darkened. "This is what they're doing," he said. "They're taking us—using us. Even after we're gone."

The group fell silent, the horror of the revelation sinking in.

The group stood frozen, staring at the rows of glowing cylinders lining the chamber. The figures inside were unmistakable: Gladers preserved in eerie stillness, their faces calm yet lifeless.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Minho muttered, his voice laced with anger.

"It's them," Y/N said, stepping closer to Zart's cylinder. Her reflection distorted against the glass, merging with his motionless form. "They're keeping them. But why?"

Thomas scanned the room, his jaw tightening as he approached the console in the center. The screen blinked with lines of data, words and phrases flashing past too quickly to read. But one file stood out, its heading bold and highlighted: Phase Two: Neural Adaptation Protocols.

"What's that?" Newt asked, joining Thomas.

Y/N approached cautiously, her fingers trembling as she navigated the interface. The files were encrypted, but fragments of text appeared, pieced together like shards of a broken mirror.

"Subjects exhibiting higher synaptic resonance are retained for additional testing."

"Neural pathways suggest increased adaptability to external stimuli."

"Subject B-13 critical to Phase Two activation. Do not terminate."

"Subject B-13," Newt read aloud. He turned to Y/N, his brow furrowed. "That's you, isn't it?"

Y/N felt the weight of his words settle over her like a stone. "It's me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Why?" Winston asked, his voice trembling. "Why are you... different?"

Y/N shook her head, the fragments of her visions—or memories—flashing through her mind. Her pulse quickened, her breath catching as pieces of the puzzle began to align.

"I don't know," she said, stepping back from the console. The room spun, the edges blurring as the revelation took hold. The visions, the voices, the searing pain—they weren't just echoes of fear. They were real.

"I need a second," Y/N said, her voice breaking.

Y/N's breath hitched. "They're keeping us here for experiments," she said, her voice shaking. "They're... preserving us."

Minho clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "That's it. I'm done playing their game. We burn this place to the ground."

"Not yet," Thomas said, his voice steady but hard. "We need to find out everything we can first. If we destroy this, we lose any chance of figuring out what's next."

"Next?" Winston echoed bitterly. "How much worse can it get?"

Newt stepped forward, his expression resolute. "We stick to the plan," he said. "We find the hidden sector, figure out what WICKED's hiding there, and then we end this. For good."

The group nodded. Y/N felt a strange mix of fear and clarity. The truth was beginning to take shape, but the more she uncovered, the more questions it raised.

Thomas fell into step beside her, his gaze steady. "We'll get through this," he said.

She nodded, though her thoughts were heavy. "I just hope we're ready for what we find," she said as she felt the Maze was tightening around them, but for the first time, Y/N felt like they were finally grasping the threads of its secrets.