Floor Eleven barely slowed him down.
A labyrinth of shifting stone corridors, walls sliding and rearranging with a low grinding rumble every time Ren crossed some invisible threshold — the kind of puzzle that would have cost him ten frustrating minutes an hour ago, spent second-guessing every turn.
He didn't second-guess anything this time.
He activated Momentum Precognition the instant the walls began their first shift, faint white lines tracing not just combat trajectories now but the labyrinth's own structural motion, and found, with a satisfaction that bordered on smug, that predicting stone was considerably easier than predicting an elf who refused to have a future at all. He read the pattern in four shifts, cut directly through two supposedly sealed junctions using Bloodsucker's blade to simply carve through weaker load-bearing sections the puzzle hadn't accounted for anyone attempting to bypass, and stood at the exit gate within six minutes of entering.
