TMR - Thomas x X-reader fanfiction

Chapter Thirty-One: The Hidden Cost

The glow of the console flickered like a pulse, casting jagged shadows across the chamber walls. My thoughts churned as I stared at the words on the screen, their meaning sinking deeper into my mind. Phase Three Initiation: Subject Priority Adjustment.

I couldn't ignore the weight of it anymore—the experiments, the immunity, the Maze. Every piece of the puzzle led to this moment, but the edges still didn't fit together cleanly. WICKED had built their games to break us, but they were just as fractured as the world they were trying to save.

I took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing myself to think clearly. The others were watching me, their silence thick with expectation. I could feel Thomas' presence closest to me, his calm gaze steadying me even as I fought to keep my own thoughts in order.

"We need to know what this means," I said more to myself than anyone else, breaking the silence. My voice sounded sharper than I intended, cutting through the air like a blade.

"Phase Three?" Newt asked, his tone cautious. "What do you think it is?"

I didn't answer immediately. My fingers hovered over the console's controls, the interface oddly familiar now, like a memory rising to the surface.

"It's not just another phase of testing," I said, my voice low. "It's something bigger."

I tapped the screen, and the map of the Maze shifted again, illuminating a distant sector we'd never seen before. The glowing path wound through tight corridors and into a darker, unmarked area. It wasn't like the rest of the Maze, where every turn felt designed to confuse or trap us. This route felt intentional, like it had been waiting for us.

Thomas leaned over my shoulder, his brow furrowing. "What is this place?"

"I don't know," I admitted, the words tasting bitter. "But it's where they want us to go."

Minho let out a dry laugh, his voice echoing off the chamber walls. "And you think we're just going to walk into their little trap?"

"It's not a trap," I said, my voice firm. "It's a test. And if we don't figure out what's at the end of it, they'll win."

Minho crossed his arms, his skepticism written all over his face. "And what happens when we get there? You think they'll just hand us the answers?"

"They won't need to," I said, turning to face the group. "Because we'll figure it out before they do."

We moved cautiously, the dim light of the map device Thomas carried casting long shadows on the walls around us. The silence was suffocating, every step echoing like a drumbeat in my ears. My mind raced as I replayed the fragments of memories WICKED had failed to erase.

The barren landscapes. The faces of the sick. Randall's voice, calm and detached, echoing through the sterile white room. "Without them, there is no future."

"Do you think they're watching us right now?" Winston's voice broke the silence, his unease clear.

"They're always watching," Newt replied, his voice tight. "And they're always listening."

Thomas glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure about this?" he asked softly, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

"No," I said honestly, my fingers tightening around the strap of my pack. "But what choice do we have?"

He nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the path ahead.

The corridor twisted sharply, leading us into a wide-open chamber unlike anything we'd seen before. At its center stood a pillar, its surface covered in strange, angular symbols that have become like second nature to me now.