In Slater’s first life, he had been manipulated into undergoing intense training—and even isolation—under a promise he believed in. But that training wasn’t aningless.
They trained him to do two things: take down Zoren Pierson and eliminate the Head of Holand Security of Anteca, Mint.
Lola knew both. Zoren was Penny’s husband, and Mint had once been their friend. Mint was still their friend, and even Lola had t her.
Hard as it was to believe, Slater did silence Mint—and everyone else who stood in his way. He ca dangerously close to taking down Zoren as well, but the man had been one step ahead.
In the end, Slater failed. And even if he had succeeded, he’d already lost everyone around him.
What made it worse was that even when Zoren erged victorious in that lifeti and claid control of the Order, he didn’t last long. Zoren, too, died at the hands of another—soone he allowed to kill him.
In the end, no one got a happy ending... especially when compared to this lifeti, where those who were ant to die were still alive—happily so.
"Actually..." Slater trailed off as the three of them stepped out of the mansion toward the maze. His eyes lingered on the towering walls ahead.
Ever since arriving here, he’d found himself drawn to that direction, staring at those walls long before he consciously realized it.
"There’s sothing I didn’t ntion about the training," Slater said, turning to them.
Atlas and Lola stood at his side, watching him closely.
"I..." He pursed his lips. "The training wasn’t just that. They fed us the sa als every day and made us take pills."
"Pills?" Lola furrowed her brows. "What kind of pills?"
"I don’t know," Slater shook his head. "But after taking them, I felt... sharper over ti. They called them vitamins. It wasn’t like they made invincible—more like they slowly awakened parts of my brain I didn’t even know existed."
"Parts of your brain?" she frowned. "What does that an?"
"You’ve heard that myth that humans only use ten percent of their brain?" he continued carefully. "I know it’s not true, but that’s what it felt like. Like we were pushed beyond our limits—like using more than a hundred percent. That’s how they trained us. That’s how they turned soone like into... that."
The pills alone might not have seed significant, especially considering everything else they already knew. The fact that those trained here left fully capable of executing any mission was proof enough.
Silence settled over them as Atlas and Lola nodded in understanding. For many reasons, this didn’t surprise them. The Order had developed countless drugs and worse. This fit perfectly into that pattern.
"But what we do know," Lola murmured, tilting her head, "is that lissa wasn’t chosen at random. These people had been watching us for a long ti. So it’s no surprise they waited... and approached her when she hit rock bottom."
Slater and Atlas nodded until Lola turned back to them.
"I still don’t understand what they wanted," she said quietly, frustration lacing her voice. "Slater... didn’t you find anything else here?"
"We studied the maze," Slater sighed. "And I—personally—went inside it. But aside from the cramped quarters and complicated paths, they left nothing behind."
He paused, eyes snapping back to the maze. "Well... almost nothing. We did find a room that controls the maze and changes its routes."
"It changes?" Atlas asked. "You didn’t tell that."
"We only discovered it today," Slater replied. "It was hidden extrely well. Let show you."
With that, Slater led them back inside through the residence and into a secret passage hidden within the maid’s quarters.
The location was unexpected.
Most people would assu secret passages were placed in offices or private chambers—places a governor frequented. But this one was hidden in the servant quarters. That was why it took them so long to find it.
When they entered the room, countless monitors greeted Atlas and Lola, along with control panels lining the walls.
"This," Slater said, stopping before a small button. "Pressing this changes the paths."
Then, he pressed it.
Across the monitors, the walls inside the maze began to shift and move. Lola and Atlas exchanged looks, unsure whether they were more amazed or disturbed.
What stood out most was the spacing of the rooms, the individual cells that housed the recruits.
"How did no one notice the walls turning?" Lola whispered in disbelief.
"The people here were treated like inmates in a sophisticated asylum," Slater said. "We trained day and night, took pills, and followed strict sleep schedules. And only now did I realize..."
He paused, then continued. "I don’t rember how I slept."
Slater could recall staying up late—fighting exhaustion—but then everything would go blank. The next thing he knew, it was morning.
"And I never—not once—felt sleepy," he added. "Normally, your body forces sleep on you. No matter how hard you resist, you eventually pass out. But that never happened to ."
Atlas crossed his arms, watching the monitors as the walls settled into a new configuration.
"The walls make noise when they move," he said. "I can hear it faintly even from here. Anyone outside should’ve noticed."
Lola nodded, and Slater did the sa.
"That’s why I brought up sleep," Slater said quietly. "I think they released sothing airborne in the maze. Sothing that knocks people out when inhaled, long enough for the walls to move without us noticing."
"If that’s the case," Lola said, heart pounding as she stared at the monitors, "then even if soone tried to escape... the path would never be the sa twice."
She gulped, her heart thudding.
"This isn’t just a maze," she whispered. "It’s a prison."
The three of them stood in silence, staring at the monitors displaying countless angles of the maze like a cruel ga board.
Lola clutched her arm, lips pressed tight, before lifting her gaze to them.
"I’m scared," she admitted softly as they looked back at her. "Whoever our enemy is... I’m starting to get scared."
Her lips quivered as she exhaled. "It feels like they’ve been preparing for a long ti, and only now are we catching up. I wonder how much more catching up we’ll have to do... or if we’ll ever get anywhere close to the truth."
Slater’s eyes softened as his hands curled into tight fists. Whether he admitted it or not, he shared Lola’s fears.
But then...
"I’m not."
Atlas’s sudden admission cut through the silence. He looked from the monitors to his wife, extending his hand. Lola took it, and he held on firmly, reassuringly.
"If they were truly a hundred steps ahead, they would’ve already made their move," he said, eting Lola’s gaze before shifting to Slater, his expression unshaken. "Yet they haven’t."
Atlas exhaled slowly, calm and composed, eyes returning to the monitors. "If anything, this tells they’ve done everything they can to hide the truth—that they’re only one step ahead... not a hundred."
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