"I'M NOT FAILING HERE."
Malik, caring not for that, jumped.
Walls slammed down from above and below, aiming to crush him midair.
He twisted, blasted forward, and slipped between them with less than a finger's width to spare.
And then, just a moment before the gate could snap shut...
He dove in, his cape nearly caught by stone.
The labyrinth screamed behind him until all sound was suddenly cut off.
Everything was.
Malik experienced complete darkness as he reached the other side.
Glow faded from his now bootless feet.
The Seventh Layer was no more.
He was now upon the Eighth Layer.
There was not much falling this time.
He neared its surface in seconds.
And he landed on...
Tents.
Millions.
A near-endless number of them.
Stretching as far as he could see, all stitched from... human skin.
Yes... the ground here wasn't even solid.
It was just endless rotting skin, barely stitched together with crude sinew, hair, and veins.
