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An hour later, the Gathering had begone. Blake was a bit relieved she wasn't in front of the Keepers like she had been a week or two before. Instead, she stood behind Minho, the Keeper of Runners. It took a bit of convincing to let her in, but after all most Keepers liked her and trusted her enough for her to hear what Thomas had to say.

"All right, Greenie," Alby said, looking much better as he sat in the middle. Newt sat next to him, looking more in place then he had before. "Forget all the beat-around-the-bush klunk. Start talking."

Thomas, still a bit queasy from the Changing, forced himself to take a second and gain his composure. He had a lot to say but wanted to be sure

"It's a long story," Thomas began. "We don't have time to go through it all, but I'll tell you the gist of it. When I went through the Changing, I saw flashes of images—hundreds of them—like a slide show in fast forward. A lot came back to me, but only some of it's clear enough to talk about. Other stuff has faded or is fading." He paused. "But I remember enough. The Creators are testing us. The Maze was never meant to be solved. It's all been a trial. They want the winners—or survivors—to do something important." He trailed off.

Blake was a bit shocked that she didn't remember this. Sure, her memories were limited to a certain topic, making her come up with theories to connect the dots. She had thought before that they were here for a reason, but Blake could never figure out what. But how could there be survivors if the Maze wasn't solvable, Blake thought.

"What?" Newt asked.

"Let me start over," Thomas said, rubbing his eyes. "Every single one of us was taken when we were really young. I don't remember how or why—just glimpses and feelings that things had changed in the world, that something really bad happened. I have no idea what. The Creators stole us, and I think they felt justified in doing it. Somehow they figured out that we have above-average intelligence, and that's why they chose us. I don't know, most of this is sketchy and doesn't matter that much anyway."

"I can't remember anything about my family or what happened to them. But after we were taken, we spent the next few years learning in special schools, living somewhat normal lives until they were finally able to finance and build the Maze. All our names are just stupid nicknames they made up—like Alby for Albert Einstein, Newt for Isaac Newton, William Blake for well Blake, and me—Thomas. As in Edison."

Alby's face grew pale and shock displayed itself over his face. "Our names ... these ain't even our real names?"

Thomas shook his head. "As far as I can tell, we'll probably never know what our names were."

Blake buried her head in her hands. She couldn't stop thinking about George, how he was taken with her, his name changed into something Blake might never remember. For all Blake knew, any of these dingbats could be her brother.

Griever Tamer|| The Maze Runner¹/ MinhoWhere stories live. Discover now