Burning Beneath

The ground trembled.

Not like before.

This time, it cracked.

A deep, jagged split tore through the stone beneath her feet, snaking forward like a living wound. The space wasn’t shifting to guide her anymore—it was collapsing.

Without thinking, Sam lunged forward, the ground shattering behind her.

The figure near the pillar didn’t move.

But something else did.

From the cracks, thin black tendrils slithered upward, dragging themselves free of the stone. They weren’t reaching for her.

They were reaching for the pillar.

The structure groaned under their grip, the fracture down its center splitting wider. Symbols along its sides began to burn, glowing an angry red.

The figure finally moved—its head tilting toward the pillar, then toward Sam.

It didn’t step forward.

It split.

Its body cracked like glass, fragments of itself breaking off and scattering into the shadows. Each piece flickered before solidifying, forming new figures—dozens of them—stretching into the dark.

All of them watching her.

And then, they began to move.

Not toward her.

Toward the pillar.

The tendrils tightened their grip, and the pillar began to fall, the ground shaking violently beneath it.

Sam had a choice—

• Run forward and confront the falling structure.
• Turn aside into the unknown corridors branching from the chamber.
• Or stand still and let the space decide for her.

But the shaking ground made the choice for her.

The floor split open beneath her, and this time, there was no soft landing.

She fell hard, slamming onto a cold, metallic surface.

Not stone.

Steel.

Sam groaned, pushing herself up, and looked around.

The walls here were no longer alive. No more shifting stone or breathing corridors.

This was a room.

Silent. Still.

Dim, flickering lights lined the walls, casting long shadows over strange machinery—wires snaking across the floor, monitors pulsing softly with unreadable data.

And in the center, a single chair sat beneath a hanging light.

Empty.

Waiting.

But this place wasn’t empty.

A quiet hum filled the air.

Not mechanical.

Breathing.

Sam wasn’t in the maze anymore.

But she wasn’t free.

Not yet.