The bell rang once.
Not loud—just sharp enough to cut through thought.
Conversation died instantly.
Chains rattled as the captives rose, exhaustion written into every movement. Keith pushed himself up slowly, joints aching from days of hunger and sleeplessness. Rain stood beside him, her rainbow-colored hair dulled by grime and dim light, the colors muted but still unmistakable—like oil floating on dark water.
That hair was why people whispered her name.
Rain.
They were led deeper this time.
The passages narrowed, the stone changing texture beneath their feet. It wasn't smooth like the holding halls. It was gouged. Scored. As if something had tried to claw its way out—or drag others in.
The corridor ahead waited.
Long. Slanted. Alive.
Keith felt it before it moved.
"This is your first true phase," an inspector said, standing unnaturally still at the entrance."Those who fail will be reclaimed.""Those who pass will continue."
No explanation. No mercy.
The gate opened.
The first wave entered.
The corridor responded immediately.
Stone seams burst apart. Blades snapped out in overlapping arcs, forcing bodies into narrow safe zones that vanished seconds later. A man screamed as his arm was taken clean off. Another vanished through a false step, swallowed by darkness so deep it felt unreal.
Keith watched carefully.
Patterns emerged—but they shifted.
"This thing adapts," he murmured.
Rain nodded. "It reacts to panic. And sound."
When it was their turn, Keith stepped forward deliberately.
The first blade passed close enough to brush his sleeve.
He didn't rush.
Rain followed, not copying him, but moving around him—offset, complementary. When his path narrowed, hers opened.
For a time, it worked.
They moved like a system.
Then the corridor changed.
The walls groaned. The glow in the veins intensified, pulsing faster.
Chains fell.
Not randomly.
Targeted.
One slammed into Keith's side before he could adjust. Pain flared white-hot as he was thrown off balance, skidding toward a floor gap.
Rain reacted instantly, grabbing his wrist.
But the corridor didn't stop.
A blade sequence activated early.
"Keith—MOVE!"
He twisted, barely pulling free as the blade sliced through the space his leg had occupied a heartbeat earlier. Blood sprayed—his, not fatal, but deep enough to weaken him.
The setback had begun.
His breathing grew uneven. His movements slowed.
Rain noticed immediately.
"You're bleeding too much," she said, voice tight. "Your steps are off."
"I know," he replied through clenched teeth. "I can still—"
A chain slammed down between them.
The corridor split them apart.
Keith landed hard on a narrow pillar, pain exploding through his injured leg. Rain was thrown to the opposite side, barely clinging to a ledge as the floor beneath her collapsed entirely.
For the first time since entering—
They couldn't see each other.
The corridor punished hesitation.
Keith forced himself upright, every instinct screaming at him to freeze. He shut that voice down.
Think.Patterns.Physics.
The chains followed momentum. The blades followed sound.
He adjusted his breathing, slowed his steps, using pain as an anchor instead of a distraction. Each movement was calculated now—not elegant, but precise.
Across the gap, Rain moved differently.
Without Keith to balance her timing, she relied on observation alone. She watched the glow. Counted pulses. Let chains pass so close they tore strands from her hair.
One mistake nearly ended her.
A blade grazed her shoulder, shallow but shocking enough to steal her breath. She bit back a scream, forcing silence, forcing control.
Minutes felt like hours.
Bodies fell around them.
The corridor grew impatient.
Near the final stretch, Keith reached a broken platform that swayed dangerously. His injured leg buckled. He caught himself—but the sound triggered a full sequence.
Blades. Chains. Floor shift.
He had no clean path.
Rain saw it.
Without thinking, she moved.
She broke rhythm—ran when the corridor wanted silence.
Every trap redirected toward her.
Chains slammed into her back. She hit the stone hard, rolling, blood streaking the floor. But it worked.
Keith used the opening.
He jumped.
Landed.
Stumbled.
Reached her side just as the final gate began to close.
Together, they crossed.
The corridor screamed—stone grinding violently—as if furious it had failed.
The gate slammed shut.
Silence followed.
They collapsed where they stood.
Alive.
Barely.
Rain laughed once—short, breathless, disbelieving.
"That thing… hated us."
Keith stared at the ceiling, chest burning. "It noticed."
Guards dragged them back to the cell block.
Fewer than a third returned.
Keith sat against the cold wall later, leg bandaged poorly, pain pulsing with every heartbeat. Rain sat across from him, her hair dim but unmistakable even in shadow.
Across the cell, she shifted slightly, her breathing steady but alert.
Whatever came next would test more than endurance.
And whatever this place intended to make of them—
It hadn't succeeded yet.