The morning sun was barely peeking over the Maze walls when I rolled out of my hammock, joints stiff but mind sharp. Every muscle in my body still hummed from last night's training—like electricity was coiled beneath my skin, ready to snap into motion at a moment's notice.
I stretched, joints popping like bubble wrap, then dropped into a jog around the Glade. Not for show, not for drama—though, I won't lie, it looked damn good—but because the System didn't hand out broken physics for free. This Quirk of mine, Cell Activation, it was powerful, but it had a catch: stamina drain. Burn too hot, and I'd flame out mid-sprint. So I had to get stronger, better. Faster.
Sweat poured down my back by the time I finished the fifth lap. My lungs burned in that familiar, pleasant way, like they were patting me on the back for not being a lazy sack of meat. I dunked myself into the river, ice-cold water shocking the fatigue from my limbs and stealing a sharp breath from my lungs.
"Alright, System," I muttered under my breath. "Let's have a little heart-to-heart."
[System Active.][Host's safety is the priority. Missions and cross-world deployment are designed to enhance survival odds in the primary world.]
"Uh-huh." I squinted at a sunbeam as if it were the System's eye. "Because yanking me into another dimension without warning is what I'd call 'prioritized safety.'"
[Mission Result: Success. Reward: Permanent Quirk - Cell Activation.][Host's sarcasm level: elevated. Emotional tone: skeptical.]
I snorted. "You're a real riot, you know that?"
[Affirmative.]
"Do I at least get my free Gacha pull today?"
[Daily Gacha available. Initiating spin...]
The now-familiar glowing wheel of doom flickered into existence behind my eyelids. A dozen random images spun in a blur: weapons, weird food, mystical scrolls, a golden duck for some reason. With a cheery ding, the spin stopped.
[Reward: Instant Ramen (100 servings). Stored in Inventory.]
I blinked. Then broke into a grin so wide it probably cracked something in my face.
"Oh, hell yes."
Goodbye, Frypan's mystery meat soup that tasted like burnt regret. Farewell, whatever unlabeled gunk he passed off as "protein mash." I had ramen. One hundred steaming, salty, MSG-kissed packets of joy.
"System, I take back every bad thing I've ever said about you."
[Acknowledged.]
Still grinning, I dried off and threw on a clean shirt—well, cleanish, by Glade standards—and made my way to the center of camp. The Gladers were already up, most of them moving with the sluggish routine of people who knew they were going to be sweaty and miserable again in fifteen minutes.
Near the Map Room, I spotted Newt deep in conversation with a tall, lean guy I hadn't officially met yet, but had definitely seen before—the one who ran like the Maze owed him money.
Minho. Keeper of the Runners.
"—bloody insane, is what he is," Newt was saying. "But the shank's fast. I've seen him move."
Minho crossed his arms. "So what? Fast doesn't mean Maze-ready."
"Didn't say it did. But if he beats you—"
"If?" Minho scoffed. "Please. I've been running that death trap for years. Some Greenie's not gonna—"
"Morning, gentlemen," I said, cutting in with a grin. "Hope you're discussing my inevitable victory."
Minho turned to face me, giving me a once-over that dripped with amusement. "You're the suicidal Greenie, huh?"
"Samuel," I corrected. "But 'Suicidal Greenie' has a nice ring. Sounds like a punk band."
Newt sighed. "Samuel, meet Minho. Fastest Runner we've got."
"Only Runner, you mean," Minho shot back.
"Not for long," I said.
Right on cue, a familiar growl drifted in from behind.
"Keep dreaming, shank."
Gally. Like clockwork.
He leaned against a post, arms crossed and wearing a face that screamed 'constipated rage'. "Minho's gonna wipe the floor with you."
"Aw, Gally. I didn't know you cared."
"I care about watching you eat dirt."
"Wow. You really do think about me when I'm not around."
He flipped me off, which I accepted as a token of affection.
The crowd was already starting to gather. Gladers loved two things: drama and not working. And this race promised both.
"Race is simple," Newt announced as he stepped forward. "One lap around the Glade. First to touch the Homestead wins."
Minho cracked his neck. "Hope you like the taste of dust, Greenie."
"Hope you like the view of my back."
He smirked. "Confident."
"I call it 'strategic arrogance.' It's very in this season."
The Gladers hooted and hollered. Even Frypan peeked out from the kitchen, holding a ladle like it might be useful in a duel.
Newt raised his hand. "On three. One…"
Minho crouched, ready to explode into motion.
"Two…"
I stayed loose. Relaxed.
"THREE!"
Minho shot forward like a fired arrow.
I didn't move.
The crowd erupted in confusion.
"Did he freeze?!"
"He's not even running!"
"Dumbass chickened out!"
Gally was practically choking from laughter. "Told you!"
I counted to three. Then activated my Quirk.
Cell Activation surged. My blood boiled—in a good way—and the world slowed to a crawl. My muscles snapped to life like coiled springs, and I moved.
I blurred forward, the ground vanishing under my feet. In a heartbeat, I closed the gap and passed Minho. He turned just in time to see me breeze by him, and the look on his face—priceless.
The Homestead loomed ahead, and I pushed harder. The wind roared in my ears, my heartbeat thundering in time with every footfall. Then—
I crossed the finish line.
Skidded to a stop. Turned.
Minho arrived a full second later, panting.
Silence.
Then chaos.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
"He teleported!"
"No way!"
"Did he just—?!"
Newt's mouth hung open. Gally looked like he'd swallowed a cactus.
Minho dropped his hands to his knees. "You… you stopped at the start."
"Wanted to make it fair."
He stared at me. Then burst out laughing. "You're a real piece of work, Greenie."
Newt stepped forward and raised his hands. "Winner: Samuel."
Cheers exploded from the Gladers. Even some of the Builders were clapping, though Gally looked like he was about to commit several felonies.
Minho clapped me on the shoulder. "Alright. You're fast. But speed's just part of the Maze. You want in? You gotta prove more than a flashy sprint."
"So teach me."
He studied me for a long second. "Tomorrow. Maze entrance. Dawn. Don't be late."
"Wouldn't miss it."
As the crowd drifted away, buzzing, Newt walked beside me.
"You're full of surprises, shank."
"That's my whole brand."
"Don't get cocky. The Maze eats cocky alive."
I glanced at the towering stone walls, still and silent in the daylight.
Let it try.
Because now?
I had a Quirk, a System, and a hundred packets of ramen.
Let's see what the Maze thinks about me.
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