What secrets does this place hold in the grand scheme of things? What plots are being conceived by the various beings trying to rule the labyrinth?
The dimension masters, what could be considered kings of each monster kingdom within the labyrinth, were tasked by the Labyrinth Master, the administrator, with only one thing. To do their best to kill any invader who dared enter their domain. They could send their lowest ranked species as cannon fodder, or they could occupy a part of the labyrinth directly. And if they chose the latter, he would allow them free reign without his interference.
The enigma called the administrator, or more accurately, the Labyrinth Master, was an androgynous being. No specific gender. Couldn't procreate. He was a sole creature created for one specific purpose: to fulfill his duties in the absence of his now long-deceased masters.
He was given free reign over the labyrinth, and so he did as he wished within those boundaries. Within the limits of the labyrinth, here he was like a god. He could deny and foresee things within it. His eyes were everywhere. His senses were felt by those who knew of his existence. Everything that crawled, flew, or slithered became his eyes and organs the moment they entered his space.
The only thing he couldn't control were those who wished to challenge the labyrinth. The prospects. The players in the gods' cruel games.
It was such a lonely life indeed. Forever working alone in his high seat. Though you could call him a he, it all depended on who perceived him. It was the way beings perceived things. He could be a he or a she, depending on the observer's understanding. Truly an immaculate beauty hidden beneath a cold and callous heart.
He was the devil of the fifty-first floor.
He continuously worked to maintain everything in perfect order. Those labyrinth cleaners, the small scuttling things that consumed rot and decay, were his creations. He was a perfectionist, and so anything that was rotting or corrupting would be cleaned. Nothing could be allowed to fester or spread beyond acceptable parameters.
What test lay beyond that door he had stared at for so long? That, he didn't know. The masters didn't tell him. Only that he would be there to guide the first person to ever reach this floor. He would not know what the test was. Only the challenger would discover it.
So at some point, this intelligent enigma began to search for meaning beyond what his masters had programmed within him. Because he was told his duty would stop the moment the challenger faced the final hurdle. And then what? What would happen to him after that?
Then he began to feel it. What humans and beings of sentience called an existence of emotion. An emotion called fear.
His purpose had become too shallow. To have an end to himself after all the eternity he had waited for that challenger. Only for it to end when they succeeded. His only purpose was to serve those who challenged the labyrinth, and when that service was complete, what remained?
Nothing. Oblivion. Or worse, an eternity of existence without purpose.
That is why he purposely increased the difficulty of this labyrinth. Those monsters he remembered from the files of his masters, had orchestrated the attack on their kingdom long ago. A unified assault of all the monster kingdoms that had ended in the destruction of the ancient civilization built within this labyrinth.
He figured he could use them for his own purposes. He began to manipulate them into thinking they were still in control of their own fates. That they ruled their kingdoms independently. That sending tributes to the labyrinth was their own choice, not his subtle commands working through their minds.
Now they sent these tributes, these monsters, to the labyrinth to kill any challenger who dared descend. Yes, this was his goal. To stop his own end from happening, though it would also make him suffer for eternity. A double-edged sword, but one he was willing to wield.
But unfortunately for him, the gods must have laughed at his plot. They had made this particular challenger able to resurrect within the confines of the labyrinth. An ability that completely undermined his carefully constructed defenses.
How do you kill what refuses to stay dead?
But for now, he could only wait and observe. This challenger was crafty, and it seemed the effects of resurrection had affected his mind. The challenger had gone into a crazed, bloodthirsty rampage across the upper floors. But that was acceptable. Expected, even. Madness was one of the labyrinth's defenses, just like the monsters and the traps.
For now, he could only wait deep down within the depths of the Labyrinth City of Eryndorath-Dolmurath. The ancient name that still echoed in the empty halls. The name his masters had given this place before they died.
The administrator sat in his high seat in the center of the fifty-first floor. The throne room was massive, carved from a single piece of obsidian that stretched from floor to ceiling. Five hundred meters tall, just like every other floor. But this one felt different. Heavier. Like the weight of all fifty floors above pressed down on this single point.
Around him, the ruins of the ancient city spread out in all directions. Buildings that had once housed thousands now stood empty. Gardens that had bloomed with impossible flowers now lay barren. Markets where trade had flourished now echoed with silence.
He had maintained it all for seven thousand years. Kept the structures from crumbling. Kept the streets clean. Kept the memories alive even though the people who made those memories were dust.
Why? He didn't know. It wasn't part of his programming. But somewhere in the long millennia of solitude, he had started to care about this place. To feel a connection to the civilization that created him.
And that caring had led to the emotion called fear. The fear of the end. The fear of purpose lost. The fear of the silence that would come when his duty was complete.
He watched through a thousand eyes as Benny terrorized the rat kingdom. Watched as the former team began to push deeper into the lower floors. Watched as the traitors outside lived their lives of luxury, unaware of the consequences that would eventually find them.
He could kill them all with a thought. The monster kings. The prospects. Everyone within his domain. But that would violate his core programming. His purpose. And without purpose, what was he?
So he waited. And he watched. And he planned.
If the challenger could resurrect indefinitely, then perhaps the solution wasn't to kill him. Perhaps the solution was to break him so completely that death would be a mercy he couldn't achieve. To trap him in a cycle of resurrection and torment that would never end.
Yes. That would work. That would prevent the completion of the trial without violating the letter of his programming.
The administrator smiled for the first time in seven thousand years. It was not a kind expression. It was the smile of something that had discovered a loophole in its own existence.
Far above, on the first floor, Benny shivered without knowing why. A cold sensation ran down his spine, like being watched by something vast and patient and utterly without mercy.
The labyrinth had noticed him. And it had plans.
The administrator returned his attention to the ancient door at the far end of his throne room. The door his masters had sealed before they died. The door that would open for the first challenger to reach this floor.
What lies beyond it? What was the final test?
He didn't know. But he would make sure no one ever found out. His existence depended on it. The labyrinth's purpose depended on it.
And if the gods wanted to play their games with mortal lives, then he would play his own game. A game of eternity. A game where the only way to win was to never let it end.
In the depths of Eryndorath-Dolmurath, in the ruins of an ancient civilization, the Labyrinth Master made his plans. And somewhere in those plans, the fate of every soul trapped within these fifty-one floors hung in the balance.
The game had changed. And none of the players knew it yet.