A boy in a hoodie was already running toward the nearest corridor of the Maze. “I saw the doors—they’re closing in nine minutes. We need to map it.”
The Maze groaned. Somewhere deep in the stone, a mechanical shriek echoed—not metal on metal, but organic. Wet. Hungry.
“That’s not a timer for the walls,” Leo said, pointing. “That’s a countdown to something.”
They ran.
Leo clicked.
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