“Who are you?” Leo asked, keeping a healthy distance between himself and the towering man—enough space to feel safe, but close enough to reach the door if things went bad.

  The man leapt to his feet, punched a hole in a wall that didn’t exist, then dropped to one knee, flexing a bicep that could probably bend reason itself. Leo had to admit—it was impressive.

  “Reralt of Givia,” the man declared proudly.

  The three strangers stared back at him, blank as unformatted disks. Reralt stood again, unfazed, and lifted a limp Narro with one arm, holding him like a prized exhibit.

  “This is Narro, my bard,” he announced. Then, with great ceremony, gestured at the others.

  “Ah,” Leo said, motioning his companions closer. They both shook their heads violently.

  “That,” Leo continued, undeterred, “is Harlada Houdini, our mage. And that’s Bouldering Bert—our rogue.”

  Reralt and Narro exchanged a look. Even the little black cat seemed to smirk.

  “There was… some confusion,” Leo added quickly, adjusting his glasses. “With attribute distribution.”

  Narro stepped forward, palms open in the universal sign of please don’t stab us.

  “If I may ask,” Leo said, “what are you doing here? All the groups you’ve seen are dimensional shifts—versions of ourselves. You’re… not one of those, are you?”

  “No,” Narro said calmly. “We’re looking for a Hat. It’s somewhere in this dungeon.”

  Bert tapped Leo’s shoulder. “Would that be that orange thing we saw earlier?”

  Before Leo could answer, Harlada snapped, voice sharp as spellfire. “Nothing’s free in the Maze,” she said, tugging both their ears for emphasis.

  The cat purred ominously.

  ***

  “Is there some collateral we can expect in exchange?” Leo asked carefully.

  “What?” Reralt and Bert said at the same time.

  “What do we offer in exchange,” Narro translated. He rummaged through a pouch. “We have… some coins.” It jingled pathetically—maybe forty.

  Bert lifted his own pouch, three times as heavy, and shook it. “Well yes, but not enough.”

  “What if we help you progress?” Narro offered.

  The trio exchanged glances, then huddled together like conspirators at a very unconvincing tea party.

  “What if they’re lying?” Bert whispered.

  “Then we’re dead,” Leo said flatly. “Did you see the big one fight those monks? And they were competent.”

  “So what if they wait until we show them the orange thingy and then kill us?” Bert added.

  Harlada nodded. “We need some kind of safety agreement.”

  “Ehh.” Reralt had somehow inserted himself into their huddle without anyone noticing. “I’m a hero,” he declared. “I’m bound to my word.”

  “That’s not enough,” Bert said immediately.

  Harlada and Leo both turned to him, visibly disappointed.

  “What?” Bert asked—then, seeing Reralt’s expression, added quickly, “Ah.”

  ***

  “So,” Leo began, addressing Narro, “what can you give us as… safety?”

  “They don’t trust us,” Reralt complained, standing shoulder to shoulder with Bert. “Even with me—the hero.”

  “Reralt, come back to this side,” Narro said, rubbing his forehead. “Give them some privacy.”

  “But then I can’t hear them,” Reralt objected.

  “That’s the point.”

  Narro sat down cross-legged, forcing himself into negotiation mode. “So—the Maze resets after one group reaches the middle?”

  “Yes,” Leo confirmed.

  “And after the reset, the layout remains the same?” Narro pressed.

  “Yes,” Bert added.

  “So,” Reralt interrupted, “what if we help you progress, and then you tell us where the Hat is?”

  Narro made the face. “In a maze?” he said dryly. “You’ll have to draw a map.”

  Harlada nodded, considering. “Best option we’ve got.”

  “So you trust us?” Bert asked, surprised.

  Reralt placed a massive hand on Bert’s equally massive shoulder. It was still somehow intimidating. “If not,” he said with a grin, “we’ll come and find you.”

  Bert swallowed audibly.

  Leo cleared his throat. “Then it’s settled. You help us progress to the next level; we show you the way to the orange Hat.” He glanced sideways. Harlada gave a curt nod.

  The deal was struck. Or, more accurately—everyone had just agreed to regret something later.

  ***

  Leo and Narro were deep in discussion, sketching invisible diagrams in the air, trying to turn their agreement into something resembling a plan.

  Bert and Reralt, meanwhile, were thumb-wrestling. They’d wanted to actually wrestle, but—very wisely—that had been talked down by everyone within surviving distance.

  That left Harlada alone with the Void. Both stared at each other, mutual suspicion condensed into silence.

  “Are you there, mage?” Harlada asked.

  “Meow,” said the Void.

  “Figures.” Harlada sighed, sitting on the floor. She pulled a bit of dried meat from her pouch.

  “Meow?” The Void crawled onto her lap, clearly expecting tribute for this great honor.

  “I don’t even like cats,” Harlada muttered, sharing the food anyway.

  The Void purred in contentment. She didn’t particularly like humans either—but some arrangements were practical.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  A sudden cry shattered the peace. “AAAHHHHWWWW!”

  They turned. Bert clutched a thumb bent at an unfortunate angle. Reralt had both arms raised to the heavens. “Victory!” he declared triumphantly.

  “In the reset,” Narro began.

  “No, we’re not healed,” Leo finished for him.

  Narro tilted his head. “How many resets have you gone through?”

  Leo smirked. “You don’t want to know. The tutorial alone took us four attempts to realize it was the tutorial.”

  “That was in the manual—” Narro stopped mid-sentence as Leo’s expression fell into shameful silence.

  He made a quiet mental note: Do not let Reralt brag about how we ‘walked’ through ours.

  ***

  “What was that?” Reralt asked.

  “What was what?” Narro turned, then froze. “Ah. The shift.” He sighed, a long, defeated exhale. “Of course.”

  Reralt blinked. “The what now?”

  Narro rubbed his face. “I’ll explain it—but you can’t ask further.” He already knew that was the only way not to ruin the whole chapter.

  “Okay,” Reralt agreed, though he clearly didn’t understand a word of it.

  “Their chapters are smaller,” Narro said at last, “so that was their end.”

  “But—” Reralt started.

  “No questions!” Narro interrupted quickly, forcing a smile and marching on.

  Reralt followed, frowning in confusion.

  ***

  They were still in the tree chamber. The agreement was simple: Reralt, Narro, and the cat would help them progress; in return, Leo’s team would draw a map showing where the Hat was.

  “So, we’re decided then,” Leo said, nodding. “We wait for the next reset, rendezvous at this spot”—he tapped their crude sketch—“and do a proper Maze run.”

  “In the meantime…” Narro glanced toward the two trees. “How exactly is this puzzle solved?”

  Leo pointed upward. “See the mirrors?”

  Narro looked up. Six large mirrors hung from the ceiling, scattering pale light across the room. Three were aimed at the green tree, the rest at the wall.

  “Ah,” Narro said, already theorizing. “So you redirect the light to balance the growth. You managed once?”

  Bert snorted, still nursing his broken thumb. “Please. We couldn’t hit a mirror if it was standing on the ground.”

  Reralt nodded solemnly—then immediately hurled his sword skyward. A perfect hit. The mirror shifted, light flooding the dead tree. A few tentative leaves sprouted.

  Bert and Harlada turned slowly toward Leo.

  “Yes, well,” Leo muttered, “apparently you can… add Strength to your to-hit roll.”

  Reralt grinned. “Shall I throw you next?”

  Leo went pale.

  “No throwing people,” Narro warned quickly.

  Reralt looked disappointed.

  Bert sighed, handed over his own sword. “Might as well see what happens.”

  Reralt threw again. Then again. Both hits—dead center.

  “Just luck,” Leo mumbled, as the last mirror clicked into place.

  The dead tree shimmered with color. The door at the far end creaked open.

  ***

  They stepped into a circular chamber built of great grey bricks. Every few steps, a torch burned steadily along the wall, and above them a massive candelabrum flooded the room with warm light.

  Four treasure chests sat neatly in the center.

  Treasure Room Unlocked.

  Achievement: Tree Growth Solvers.

  Reward: Treasure.

  “Hmm. They’re locked,” Narro observed, eyeing the thick padlocks. “Bert, you’re the rogue, right?”

  All eyes turned to Bert.

  “Yes, well, the thing is…” He looked down and began tracing tiny circles on the floor with his boot.

  Narro and Reralt exchanged glances, matching raised eyebrows.

  “Like I said,” Leo muttered, “we had some attribute issues.”

  Harlada, who had been thoroughly occupied rubbing the Void’s belly and dangling her last bit of string, finally looked up. “I can zap them open,” she offered, “but only one. Then I’m out of mana.”

  The Void padded into the room, stopped beside a chest, and meowed insistently.

  “Ah,” Narro said. “That one’s trapped.”

  The three Maze Runners went very still—a shared look of painful self-awareness passing between them. Narro decided not to comment further.

  “Everybody out,” Reralt said, smiling.

  Narro sighed but gave the signal.

  Reralt stepped forward, cracked his knuckles, and smashed every chest in succession. Wood splintered, metal screeched, and one chest released a puff of acid gas that filled the air.

  Reralt didn’t even flinch. He coughed once, squinted through the haze, and grinned. “See? Easy.”

  ***

  The treasure was laid out neatly outside the room.

  “So,” Leo said, counting carefully, “the total amount of money…” He sniffed. “Eight gold coins, three silver, and six bronze.” A single tear rolled down his cheek. “That makes it eight hundred and thirty-six coins.”

  Bert and Harlada fell silent in awe. Reralt, who was accustomed to wealth and had seen far bigger treasures, didn’t seem to care.

  “One cape, one pair of boots, a big axe, and two scrolls of identification,” Leo continued.

  “Shall we divide?” Narro suggested. “We won’t be in the Maze long anyway. You keep the coins; we’ll take the gear. We’ll hand it over when we reach the middle.”

  The proposal was met with nods all around.

  “But only two identification scrolls and three items,” Harlada pointed out. “We’ve had cursed loot before.”

  “These boots make you go really fast!” Bert announced—already sprinting in circles.

  Narro smiled faintly. “You know,” he said to Leo and Harlada, “I tend to just go with the crazy.”

  They both nodded knowingly.

  “What do you mean?” Reralt asked, genuinely curious.

  “The cape wards you against poison,” Harlada said, finishing her spell. “And the axe returns when you throw it.”

  “Wait—couldn’t you just spend one scroll to learn the spell?” Narro asked, frowning.

  “Can you do that?” Harlada turned to Leo, who was already rifling through the Maze manual like a man searching for lost dignity.

  After a few tense seconds, he looked up, stunned. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  Narro’s jaw dropped. “Read the manual,” he said, finger pointed to Leo as a warning. he added a exasperated. “All of it.”

  Harlada gave a sheepish shrug.

  Narro slipped on the cape while Reralt hurled the axe at the nearby tree. It vanished mid-air and reappeared neatly in his hand.

  “This is so cool,” Reralt said to Bert, eyes wide with childlike wonder.

  Bert nodded, equally impressed. “Think it works on people?”

  Narro sighed. The Void meowed in warning.

  ***

  MAZE RUN #70843 COMPLETE

  PROGRESSION REWARDED

  RESET IN 5… 4… 3… 2…

  The air shimmered, walls beginning to unweave.

  “See you at the rendezvous,” Narro and Leo said in perfect sync, fading at the same instant.

  Reralt opened his mouth to ask what a rendezvous was—

  —but the Maze didn’t wait for questions.

  Everything folded in on itself.

  Light, noise, and one triumphant meow.

  Then nothing.

  ***

  “Wait, wait, wait—what is this?” Harlada asked. “The chapter’s done. Why complicate things now?”

  “No, this is called an outro vignette,” I said. “I do them every Ballads chapter.”

  “Why not in our story?” Arms crossed, almost insulted.

  “That’s just another setup — another formula.” I tried my most reassuring tone.

  “Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “I thought their chapters felt a bit long.”

  “Yes, well, The Ballads is more of a novel. The Maze is a web-serial. Shorter chapters, daily updates.”

  “This isn’t a vignette,” she said. “It’s a shout-out.”

  “If only you were this perceptive in the story.”

  “You write me,” she said, folding her arms again. “Just do your shout-out so we can finally progress. Maybe we’ll suck less on the next level.”

  “Fine.”

  “Happy?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Thank you for asking.”

  “Good,” Harlada said. “Now can I have that fireball spell?”