Hiro ran his palm along the cold brick wall.
The stone was rough, cracked — as if the labyrinth itself were alive, watching every step he took.
“We follow the plan,” he said calmly, listening to distant echoes.
“We split up. Search for chests. Collect everything useful.
Then meet at the exit.”
He turned to Rosalyn.
“Can I rely on you?”
Rosalyn adjusted her hair — a small, habitual gesture rather than a flirtatious one.
“Are you doubting me?” she smirked.
“Careful, Hiro. Don’t embarrass yourself.”
With that she took a torch from the wall, the flame reflected in her eyes — and disappeared into her corridor, leaving only the soft sound of her steps behind.
---
Hiro Alone
Silence fell instantly.
The stone walls closed around him, swallowing the last traces of sound.
Rosalyn’s torch vanished around a corner, and the labyrinth plunged into total darkness.
But that wasn’t a problem for Hiro.
His eyes always glowed with faint fluorescent pink in the dark.
They didn’t illuminate the surroundings, but they granted him perfect night vision.
---
He stepped forward, and the silence stirred.
Footsteps.
Many footsteps.
On the left — quick.
On the right — cautious, almost creeping.
Behind — heavy, wide-striding.
But one stood out the most — approaching, confident, coming straight for him.
Hiro stopped at a fork.
He raised his hand.
Between his fingers, grains of ash appeared — as though blown out of an invisible fire.
They spun into a thin line of shimmering light.
Hiro took a slow breath…
And extended his hand toward the right corridor.
The ash burst.
Not loudly — but softly, like an exhale.
A moment later, a wave of fire surged through the corridor to its farthest end.
Darkness tore open.
The walls glowed red.
A sharp scream echoed from afar:
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“Shit!”
Hiro’s lip curled — a faint, lazy, mocking smile.
“Got you,” he murmured and walked toward the corridor still trembling from heat.
---
Rosalyn’s Route
Rosalyn moved with quiet, careful steps.
The torch cast trembling shadows on the walls, as though the stone itself were reaching for the light.
She ran the end of the torch along the bricks, leaving thin dark marks.
“So I don’t get lost…” she whispered.
Every few steps — another mark.
Precise. Neat.
A habit, like she had done this many times before.
---
Footsteps sounded from the other side of the wall.
Fast, focused — a pursuer, not a wanderer.
Rosalyn spun, raising her hand:
“Great Earth… stone wall!”
Her voice became sharp and confident.
The ground trembled.
A slab of stone and sandstone shot upward, blocking the passage completely.
The footsteps slammed into it — and stopped.
Rosalyn exhaled slowly.
“One less,” she murmured and continued forward.
---
She turned right — and found herself in a dead end.
But not an empty one.
A chest stood against the wall.
Beside it, a torch in an iron bracket cast warm amber light over the discovery.
“Yes!” Rosalyn gasped and rushed to it.
She pulled the lid.
It didn’t budge.
She pulled harder.
“Hm…” The lock clicked but held.
“Oh, come on…!”
She realized — it needed a key.
“Damn it…” she muttered.
Her gaze fell to her own hair.
Silver-lavender strands held by a small metal clip.
She narrowed her eyes.
“…Alright. Let’s try something else.”
---
Rosalyn removed the hair clip, the metal glinting between her fingers.
She knelt, sticking her tongue out slightly in concentration — almost childlike.
“Come on… work…” she muttered while picking the lock.
Click.
Another click.
The metal gave way.
And—
“Got it!”
The chest opened.
---
Inside lay:
scrolls tied with cords;
rings of various shapes;
amulets with tiny gems;
and a single bronze plate — a key to the doors of the second stage.
Rosalyn pulled everything closer and lifted the plate.
“Yes!” she whispered, barely holding back a smile.
This was incredible luck — plates were rare.
She was about to close the chest when something glinted beneath the scrolls.
Not an amulet.
Not a ring.
The glow was softer… almost silver.
Rosalyn gently pushed aside the scrolls, careful as if handling time itself.
A small silver key lay beneath.
Old.
Dusty.
At its base — a familiar emblem:
A rose with a butterfly resting on its bud.
Rosalyn brushed her thumb across the engraving.
The shape felt familiar, warm even, as if it had been held by someone close.
“So… familiar…” she whispered.
---
Then — footsteps again.
Closer.
Louder.
Rosalyn hid the key, grabbed the plate and the other items, shut the chest, and tightened her grip on the torch.
“Time to go,” she said, and moved into the darkness.
---
Hiro Moving Forward
Hiro slid through the corridors like a shadow.
He didn’t open chests — he broke them.
One he kicked into the wall — the lock shattered, the lid flew open.
He took only the plate and moved on.
The next chest was heavier.
Hiro simply struck it with his palm — the wood split, and he pulled another plate from the debris.
He ignored the rest.
The darkness shifted.
Hunters.
They were fast — truly fast — and masters of silence.
But whenever one got too close, Hiro’s fingers ignited with fiery ash, sending a long wave of flame ripping through the tunnel.
Loud. Hot. Deadly.
One hunter barely dodged, hiding behind a stone pillar.
Breathing hard, stunned.
“M-magic is disabled…” he whispered.
“So how is he—”
He didn’t pursue further.
Fear forced him down another path.
But not for long.
Minutes later, he spotted a silhouette — Rosalyn — turning around a corner.
A wicked grin stretched across his face.
“Got you…”
He stepped forward.
A strange rumble echoed.
Like a boulder rolling at impossible speed.
He turned his head—
Only to see a massive stone wall flying straight at him.
“Fuck—”
A distant impact thundered through the labyrinth.
---
Rosalyn froze.
“What was that…?” she whispered.
She moved toward the sound — but before she took three steps, a faint flame fluttered before her.
A butterfly.
Soft, dim firelight glowing from its wings.
They trembled, leaving thin orange trails in the air.
Rosalyn’s eyes widened.
“It’s…”
The butterfly rose gently and drifted down the corridor.
“Wait!” she called, sprinting after it.
Her footsteps echoed wildly as the fiery butterfly led her deeper into the labyrinth.
---
She ran almost blindly.
The corridors shifted too fast, the darkness pressed in, and the butterfly kept appearing and disappearing far ahead.
“Wait!” she cried again.
The butterfly flickered.
“Just give me a second!”
Another turn — gone.
“I can’t run that fast!”
But it didn’t slow down.
Only the faint orange trail lingered.
“Damn you…” she whispered, speeding up again.
Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes — not from exhaustion, but something deeper.
Memory stirred.
A forest.
Night.
A little girl clinging to a tree.
A towering shadow.
A troll’s heavy breath.
A club raised high — ready to fall.
And at the last moment…
A fiery butterfly landed on the club.
The world flashed.
---
Hiro stood by a wall beside a torch.
Here, there was enough light that his usually glowing eyes looked simply calm, pink, steady.
He held his hand out.
Index finger extended.
The fiery butterfly swept around a corner and landed softly on his finger.
It dimmed, weakened…
And vanished.
At that exact moment something crashed into him.
“Ah!” Rosalyn stumbled back, grabbing the wall for balance.
She blinked rapidly.
“Hiro..?”
She turned to the corridor she came from.
Darkness.
Heavy, suffocating, empty.
“Did you see…?” she began, then shook her head sharply.
“Never mind.”
Her expression darkened.
Something trembled inside her — then hid behind steady breaths.
Hiro broke the silence:
“I collected four plates. You?”
She lowered her eyes.
“One…”
“Perfect. That’s a full set,” he said calmly.
“We can move to the second stage.”
Rosalyn exhaled.
She glanced once more into the darkness as if expecting something to appear.
Then she straightened, gathered herself, and said firmly:
“Let’s go.”
And stepped forward — beside Hiro, toward the exit of the labyrinth.
