The forbidden zone of the Reaper's Realm—the Death Labyrinth.The name itself sounded like a tourist attraction designed for masochists.
Ethan stood at the entrance, staring at the swirling rift of black fog, and couldn't help but quip:
"Wow, classy. No admission fee either. If I make it out alive, I'll be sure to give it a five-star review: 'Lovely environment, unique atmosphere, only downside—tends to kill you.'"
Behind him, the few remaining allies wore stiff expressions. After the fall of the Resistance and the Bureau's relentless hunt, their faces had gone numb—more like corpses than the dead themselves.
"So," Ethan turned to them, smiling crookedly, "if anyone chickens out now, I won't hold it against you. I'll just write on your tombstone: 'Died with dignity, at least skipped the labyrinth.'"
Nobody spoke. The silence pressed on them like a gravestone.
The moment they stepped in, the world bent out of shape.
The stone tiles underfoot became quicksand in a blink. The walls flickered from metal to bone to endless mirrors reflecting their own twisted faces.
"Perfect," Ethan sighed, "the interior design can't pick a theme. Must've been a schizophrenic architect."
One ally touched the wall—his fingers vanished instantly, gnawed by something unseen. Moments later, they reappeared on the opposite wall, bent at a wrong angle like a misplaced Lego piece.
"Holy shit!" the man screamed.
Ethan only shrugged. "Don't complain. At least now you can pick your nose from both sides."
The corridors stretched without end, morphing every few steps.
Sometimes they wandered into a familiar street, with taverns and baker stalls neatly lined up. But on closer look, the stalls sold rows of severed eyes—their own eyes—all staring back at them.
Other times they stumbled into a cathedral, the prayers booming, yet the priest was not preaching scripture. Instead, he read aloud from a 'Practical Guide to Nightmare Energy Development.'
"This vibe," Ethan chuckled bitterly, "reminds me of Bureau meetings—solemn on the surface, pure bullshit underneath."
Then time itself unraveled.
Though they had walked only ten minutes, suddenly another Ethan appeared—pale, hollow-eyed, already looking dead once over. The doppelgänger reached for him, whispering:
"Don't go… there is no exit, only deeper graves…"
Ethan blinked, then shook his head."Sorry, I've never had much in common with my future self. If you really want to warn me, just write a will and slip it in my pocket—I can at least sell the paper."
And with that, he kicked the phantom into the wall. It shattered into ash.
The allies began to collapse one by one.
One tried to turn back—only to find the entrance gone, replaced by an endless wasteland with seven suns dangling above, like a child's bad sketch.
"Retreat denied," Ethan sneered. "At least the labyrinth knows how to create an immersive customer experience."
Another ally suddenly laughed hysterically, dropped to his knees, and kissed the floor."We're already dead! This is Hell! There's no labyrinth at all!"
In the next instant, his body was snipped apart by invisible scissors, leaving only an empty husk, hollow as a puppet shell.
Ethan's grin never wavered. "Well, at least he found the exit before us."
At the labyrinth's so-called end, there was no exit—just a door that kept mutating.One second it was a gaping mouth of flesh, the next an iron gate of grinding gears, then suddenly the Bureau's insignia.
Across its surface appeared ancient words:
"Only the key may pass."
Ethan stared, a chill crawling up his spine.The key? Him?
A bitter smile tugged at his lips."So I'm the VIP pass now? Great. Spent half my life failing at everything, and I end up as a universal key."
He lifted his hand. Nightmare energy surged from within, spiraling into a vortex before the door.
His allies watched in horror, but no one stopped him. They all knew there was no turning back.
The vortex roared. The door creaked open. From beyond spilled whispers from the depths of the Reaper's Realm—millions of dead souls murmuring at once.
Ethan glanced back at the two who still stood, his smile grim but intact."Welcome to round two of the Death Labyrinth. Please fasten your seatbelts. With luck, we might even survive long enough to complain about it."
Then he stepped into the deeper dark.