CHAPTER 82: CHAPTER 82

Something shattered—tinkle-tinkle-tinkle—fragments raining down like crystalline hail.

Kairos’s triumphant roar echoed through the maze—ROOOOOAR—carrying undertones of satisfaction.

[MIRROR-SPAWN: ELIMINATED. DEVOURING: IN-PROGRESS.]

"Good. Catch up when you’re done." Yoo reached the three-way junction, turned left toward the center. "We’re not stopping."

THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.

The Spire’s heartbeat grew louder—closer—confirming he was heading in the correct direction. His acoustic map updated:

Center: 620 meters remaining.

Path: relatively clear.

Other entities: five remaining, all converging on same destination.

Estimated arrival time: 31 minutes if no interruptions.

But of course, there would be interruptions.

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK.

The maze shifted—grind-scrape-SLAM—entire sections rotating like a multidimensional Rubik’s cube. Yoo’s mental map became obsolete instantly, corridors that had existed three seconds ago now sealed, new passages opening in directions that shouldn’t be possible.

"Damn it," he muttered, recalibrating. "The maze reconfigures every 47 seconds. I need to move faster than—"

Footsteps.

Behind them. Running.

Getting closer.

Not Kairos. The energy signature was completely different. One of the other five entities, and it was moving at speeds that suggested—

Gold-rank minimum.

Possibly Platinum.

Chasing us.

Why?

Yoo’s enhanced cognition provided answer immediately:

We demonstrated ability to navigate the maze while blind.

That entity observed our method.

Now it’s following us to the center.

Using us as pathfinders.

"Someone’s following," he warned Han. "Twenty meters back. Gaining."

"Can we outrun—"

WHOOSH.

The entity closed the gap in three seconds—impossible speed—and Yoo felt it arrive directly behind him through pressure change and displaced air.

"Clever trick," a voice said. Male. Young-sounding. Carrying accent Yoo couldn’t place. "Navigating by heartbeat. Why didn’t I think of that?"

Yoo stopped walking. Didn’t turn around. Didn’t open his eyes.

"You’re welcome to continue alone," he said carefully. "We’re not interested in conflict."

"Oh, I’m not here to fight." The voice was amused. "I’m here to partner. You navigate, I provide protection. We both reach the center faster."

"And when we get there?"

"We solve that problem when it becomes relevant." Footsteps circled around—step-step-step—putting the stranger in Yoo’s acoustic map. Humanoid. Roughly adult-height. Carrying something heavy on his back. "Name’s Corvus. Gold 47. Been stuck in this trial world for three years. You’re the first outsiders I’ve seen who might actually make it to the top."

Three years.

This person has been trapped here for three YEARS.

How many trials has he passed?

How far did he get before failing and being trapped?

"What do you want?" Yoo asked.

"Same thing you do. Exit." Corvus’s voice carried weight of absolute sincerity—truth that Yoo’s enhanced perception confirmed as genuine. "This world doesn’t let you leave until you complete all trials. I failed at Level 89. Now I’m stuck, forced to repeat lower levels, hoping to find path forward."

Level 89.

He got to LEVEL 89 before failing.

That means he knows what’s ahead.

Yoo’s tactical mind immediately calculated value:

Information about future trials: invaluable.

Experienced partner who’s survived three years: extremely useful.

But—

Someone who failed at 89 carries desperation.

Desperate people make unpredictable choices.

Risk vs reward.

"What caused you to fail?" Yoo asked.

Silence for three breaths.

Then: "I looked at something I shouldn’t have. In Level 89, there’s a room. In that room, a mirror. Not like these—" Corvus gestured at the surrounding maze. "—a true mirror. Shows not possible futures, but absolute truth about yourself."

"And you looked."

"And I looked." Corvus’s voice was hollow. "Saw what I’d become. Three years of trials, powers accumulated, humanity sacrificed. The thing staring back wasn’t human anymore. Wasn’t even recognizable. And in that moment of horror, I hesitated."

Hesitation in trial = failure.

"The trial punished me. Stripped away my progress. Trapped me here." Corvus’s footsteps resumed—step-step—pacing in tight circle. "Now I start over. Climb again. But this time, I’m not looking in any mirrors."

Yoo processed the story through his lie-detection capabilities.

Truth: 91%.

He’s being genuine.

But there’s 9% omission. Something he’s not saying.

"What aren’t you telling us?" Yoo asked directly.

Corvus laughed—sharp, bitter. "You’re perceptive. Fine. Truth: I’m at 34% humanity. Been dropping steadily despite not taking any trials that should cost it. The trial world itself is eating my remaining human essence as punishment for failure."

34%.

Two-thirds monster.

And still dropping.

"At current rate," Corvus continued, "I’ll hit 0% in approximately seven months. Then I become part of the world. Another guardian for lower trials. Another obstacle for future challengers."

That’s the fate of those who fail.

Not death.

Eternal servitude as trial monsters.

Yoo felt his 57%-locked humanity like a shield. That couldn’t happen to him anymore. But Corvus had no such protection.

"If we partner," Yoo said carefully, "what happens when we reach trials you’ve already passed?"

"I know their solutions. I guide you through. We move faster."

"And when we reach trials you’ve failed?"

"We face them together. Better odds than alone."

He needs us.

His desperation is tactical liability.

But his knowledge is tactical asset.

Do the benefits outweigh the risks?

Before Yoo could answer—

CRASH-CRASH-CRASH.

Something huge tore through the maze—SHATTER-tinkle-SMASH—destroying mirrors with such violence that even with eyes closed, Yoo felt the pressure of displaced air.

ROOOOOAAAAR.

A bellow that made his earlier assessment seem optimistic. Not just powerful. Primordial-class powerful. Energy signature that registered as—

[IMMEASURABLE - DETECTION THRESHOLD EXCEEDED]

"That," Corvus said quietly, "is Entity-One. The strongest competitor. Been hunting other entities since the trial began. Currently at five kills."

Five out of eight original entities.

Now seven remain total: us, Corvus, Entity-One, and three others.

"What is it?" Han asked.

"No idea. Never seen it directly—that would create observation-link. But its power signature suggests Catastrophe-class minimum. Maybe higher."

The crashing sounds moved away—CRASH-CRASH-fade—Entity-One pursuing some other unfortunate competitor.

In the temporary silence, Yoo made his decision.

"We partner. Temporarily. Until we reach the center."

"And after?"

"We reassess." Yoo turned in what he hoped was Corvus’s direction. "But first rule: no looking at mirrors. Ever. For any reason."

"Agreed."

"Second rule: no betrayal. If you try to use us as bait or sacrifice, my bound entity will kill you."

As if summoned, Kairos arrived—thump-thump-thump—massive form creating acoustic shadow in Yoo’s perception. [MASTER: DEVOURING-COMPLETE. MIRROR-SPAWN-ABILITIES: PARTIALLY-INTEGRATED.]

"Is that—" Corvus’s voice carried genuine awe. "—is that a Catastrophe-class entity you’ve bound? With True Name?"

"Yes."

"How are you only Gold-equivalent power? Naming a Catastrophe should be impossible below Primordial-tier!"

"I’m special." Yoo didn’t elaborate. "Third rule: don’t ask questions about my abilities. I won’t ask about yours."

"...Fair."

"Then let’s move. We have—" Yoo checked his internal clock. "—twenty-six hours for eighty-six trials. And Entity-One is between us and the center."

THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.

The Spire’s heartbeat called them forward.

570 meters to center.

Seven entities remaining.

And whatever waited at the middle of this mirror-maze, it was going to be contested.

Yoo started walking, eyes firmly closed, navigating by sound and spatial awareness and the heartbeat that never lied.

Behind him: Han, blade ready.

Beside him: Kairos, scaled body still healing from Mirror-Spawn fight.

Following three steps back: Corvus, desperate and dangerous and carrying three years of knowledge.

And ahead, somewhere in the shifting maze—

Entity-One.

Hunting.

This is going to get complicated.

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