In the end, fate decided that I wouldn't talk to my parents after all.
When I finally pulled myself together and went downstairs, I found the house empty. A note lay on the kitchen table, telling me they had gone to visit my grandfather.
Disappointment and relief swirled through my chest at the same time.
Not long after the message, Jaxon texted me, asking whether I had received the notification as well. Knowing that he would be there too relaxed me a little.
After a hearty breakfast and a quick shower, I get ready for my day in the dungeon.
Even though there isn't much to prepare. The Association provides candidates with everything from clothing to weapons to supplies.
As far as I know, the first dungeon run is always very short.
In — if you're allowed in at all — and straight back out.
That's enough to activate abilities and examine them more closely through the MySy.
It's only during the second visit to the Labyrinth that your class manifests.
That's because an action is required. Depending on your behavior, something decides whether you're better suited as a healer, a tank, or a damage dealer.
I wonder whether the Chronicler has anything to do with that. Or the voices that spoke through him.
In the end, I decide to put on a tracksuit — one that has never actually been used for jogging.
Then I grab my backpack and pack my survival kit.
That has nothing to do with the dungeon, though. It's all things I need to get through everyday life.
A sugary drink, preferably cola.
Something to eat. Today, an apple and a Twix.
A jacket, because I'm terrible at dressing for the weather and overheat or freeze far too easily.
Sunglasses, in case my eyes suddenly decide to become sensitive again.
And then there are all the small things for unexpected situations.
Like a pocketknife. I mostly use the nail file on it. When I'm nervous, I fiddle with my fingers, which often leads to a nail breaking. Without a file, I keep picking at it until it bleeds.
Of course, the knife is useful for other things too.
Then hand cream, in case my skin starts to feel tight again or decides to flake off my body.
And so on.
Yes, it's exhausting and annoying.
I don't understand how other people can leave the house with just keys, money, and a phone.
I wish I could be like that. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way for me.
I stand there for a while longer, wondering what else I might need in the Labyrinth but I doubt they'll let me bring anything personal anyway.
So I leave the house, as always, far too early, my headphones over my ears.
Thankfully, the meeting point is easy to reach by public transport, since my parents took our only car.
Otherwise, I would've had to call a taxi.
The Association does reimburse those costs, but of course there's an application process and I don't have the nerves for that.
Several others sit in the train with me, taking us to a station outside the suburbs. Normally, hikers and day-trippers get off here.
Today, young adults stream out instead. I'm not the only one who took an earlier train than necessary. Unlike the others, though, anticipation isn't my reason.
I keep my noise cancellation on for the entire ride. I have no desire to listen to everyone else's excited chatter.
Another advantage is that no one approaches me.
Thankfully, headphones are still the universal sign for don't talk to me.
I follow the stream of people along a hiking path toward a well-known viewpoint. Here the densely overgrown terrain suddenly opens up, revealing meadows and the distant mountain range.
The city has set up picnic tables here. I've been here often with my parents.
And it would actually be idyllic — if several black containers hadn't been placed on the grass. Officers in brown-gray field uniforms with camouflage patterns move around, speaking into small headsets and looking very tense.
Something I notice, but apparently no one else does.
Even though this is basically the same procedure as countless times before, the experienced Hunters are on edge.
For me, that's a sign of how dangerous the Labyrinth really is.
The others gather around the picnic tables, talking nervously. At first we are maybe twenty people. Soon thirty.
Jaxon walks toward me. He tries to act casual, but his shoulders and hands give away his tension.
I take off my headphones.
Birdsong surrounds me. Wind rustles through the leaves. Maybe I should come back here sometime when it isn't crowded.
Someone claps loudly.
"Attention. Please listen."
Alexander stands there. I grimace. Great. The mind parasite. Now I have to watch how I think again.
"I'm glad you're all here. I know this is exciting. But it's very important that you pay attention.
Today's goal is simply to enter the Labyrinth and immediately leave it again. We have Hunters stationed inside to make sure you won't encounter any monsters during that short time.
Nevertheless, we ask you to change into a field suit. As you know, it's reinforced, regulates body temperature, is water- and fire-resistant, and blends into the dungeon environment.
In those two containers", he gestures to the side, "you'll find the changing rooms for men and women. Inside there is a locker with your name. Your suit should be in your size.
You can put your belongings in the locker.
Once you're changed, please come back here."
Obediently, everyone heads inside. We're twelve women, and the inside of the container looks like a sports locker room.
Instantly I'm reminded of school and the many teasing comments from other girls I got because of my small height and pronounced curves.
A really bad combination. For my height I technically need an S, while my chest and hips require M-L. So clothes are either too tight or far too long.
That's why I like wearing three-quarter jogging pants that reach my ankles and oversized sweaters.
I'm afraid the same thing will happen here.
But to my surprise, the suit fits perfectly. I had found it uncomfortable that the Association wanted my exact body measurements, but now I'm okay with it.
There are also sturdy leather boots, and they're actually comfortable. I'd love to keep them.
The other candidates chatter excitedly, guessing which abilities might manifest — even though it isn't even certain they have any. Unlike me.
Tension slowly creeps into my jaw. It's about to start.
"Wow, the suit looks really good on you."
Behind me stands a woman with long black hair and the darkest eyes I've ever seen. I couldn't even say whether they were blue or brown.
A shy smile appears on my lips.
"Thanks. I'm really glad it fits."
"Yes," she clasps her hands to her cheeks enthusiastically, "isn't it cool how carefully the Association takes care of everything?"
I don't want to say publicly that I'm more on the critical side, so I just nod.
"I'm Amy," she says, holding out her hand.
"Mirelle." I shake it.
She's at least a head taller than me, but that doesn't bother me when she hooks her arm through mine and pulls me out of the container.
I let it happen. Somehow I immediately like her. Maybe also because she's pretty.
I had noticed her earlier. I suspect she's a goth.
Jaxon joins us and I introduce them.
Normally we'd make a strange trio: a skater type, a goth, and a dwarf in an oversized sweater.
But since we're all wearing the same thing, it instantly creates a sense of belonging.
A useful system. But also a dangerous one.
The two of them seem to get along well, and once again I'm allowed to just listen and occasionally make confirming sounds. I love that.
Meanwhile I keep observing the surroundings. The Hunters look less busy but still alert.
Alexander steps in front of us again and everyone falls silent immediately.
"Very good. Next, Collins will hand each of you a longsword. It's just for safety. Hold onto it properly. Don't wave it around. It's sharp. Very sharp. Two years ago a recruit cut off a finger. So hold it tight."
A man walks along our line and presses a blade into each hand. The blade is maybe thirty centimeters long, and its weight rests heavily in my palm.
Another sign that even a short visit to the Labyrinth can be deadly.
There must have been incidents that led to giving candidates weapons.
I swallow.
Now some of them are visibly uneasy. I can see it on their faces.
"Next, please form groups of five.
You will then enter the portal one group at a time.
Based on experience, this only works for about one-third to two-thirds of you.
You'll learn what happens afterward in your smaller groups.
Any questions?"
I have so many on the tip of my tongue.
But I can't ask them. Because my questions probably wouldn't lead to answers — only to more questions.