They gathered at the glass.

  Not out of curiosity.

  Out of obligation.

  On the other side, the next set of opponents waited.

  Bert took it in first. His jaw tightened. “Those are… bad.”

  They were familiar—uncomfortably so.

  Cyclopses shaped like them, towering and heavy, a single eye burning where two should have been. Their proportions were wrong, exaggerated, like brute force distilled into flesh.

  Next to them stood creatures that made Harlada’s stomach turn: half human, half scorpion. Their upper bodies bore twisted echoes of arms and faces; below, chitinous bodies curled and twitched, stingers scraping softly against the floor.

  Then came the green ones.

  Muscular. Massive. Versions of themselves stripped of nuance, swollen with raw strength and little else.

  And finally—

  Three humans.

  No distortions. No mutations.

  Just people.

  They stood close together, eyes wide, shoulders hunched, weapons held too tightly. Scared. Untrained. Alive in the way the others weren’t.

  Leo stepped back from the glass. “We’re not running this.”

  Harlada didn’t argue.

  Bert didn’t joke.

  “If we go out there,” Bert said quietly, “someone dies.”

  “That would be us,” Harlada added. “We do not stand a chance.”

  Leo nodded once. “Then we don’t go out there.”

  The decision felt strange in its simplicity.

  They turned from the window and moved with purpose.

  The shop interface flickered to life.

  Hammers.

  Swords.

  Shields.

  Anything with weight.

  They bought fast, not caring about elegance or balance. Steel clattered against stone as they stacked shields against the door, jammed sword hilts into hinges, wedged hammer heads into gaps until the mechanism groaned in protest.

  Bert drove the last hammer in with a solid bang that echoed through the chamber.

  The door shuddered—and held.

  Harlada reinforced the seams with magic, not to seal them completely, but to delay.

  Leo stepped back, assessing the work. “This buys time.”

  “Not safety,” Bert said.

  “No,” Leo agreed. “But time is enough.”

  They sat down together, backs against the barricade, weapons within reach.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Outside, something heavy shifted.

  Something scratched at the door.

  But for now—

  They weren’t running.

  And that, in this Maze, felt like defiance.

  ***

  The maze pulsed indifferent as if nothing had changed:

  Commencing run #1205 in 5-4-3-2-1

  The doors remained shut.

  The three little heroes sat behind it figuring out what to do.

  ***

  Leo heard it before the others then they felt it.

  Muttering.

  Low. Uneven. Too many voices overlapping, pressing through the stone like sound through a wall that hadn’t quite decided to be solid.

  Something heavy bumped against the door.

  Once.

  Twice.

  The barricade held, but the shields rattled, metal scraping softly.

  Bert tensed. “They’re trying to open it.”

  “Let them try,” Harlada said, staff ready but lowered. “The door will give out before the wall does.”

  Another shove. Then voices, closer now.

  “…GO?”

  “…FIGHT?”

  “…OPEN.”

  Leo stepped forward and shouted, voice sharp enough to cut through the stone.

  “Why?”

  The muttering stopped.

  Then, hesitantly, an answer came back through the door.

  “WIN,” someone said.

  “NEED.”

  “MAZE.”

  Leo didn’t hesitate. “You can progress,” he shouted back. “Just leave us alone.”

  A pause.

  Then confused murmuring.

  “…BAD?”

  “…RUDE?”

  Bert blinked. “Did they just say rude?”

  Another voice, louder this time, offended. “MAZE. FIGHT. GOOD.”

  Harlada stared at the door. “They think it’s impolite not to kill us.”

  “Cultural difference,” Bert muttered.

  The door shook again, harder.

  Leo hissed, “New plan.”

  Without waiting for agreement, he grabbed his throat and collapsed dramatically.

  “Ghh—!” he croaked. “Poison—too late—!”

  Bert caught on instantly.

  “Oh no!” he screamed, flailing. “Why did we drink the green potion?!”

  Harlada clutched her chest and slid down the wall. “Tell my spellbook… I loved it—”

  They made awful noises.

  Convincing ones.

  Wet. Final. Uncomfortable.

  On the other side of the door, the muttering turned frantic.

  “…DEAD?”

  “…QUICK?”

  “…XP?”

  A long pause followed.

  Then footsteps.

  Retreating.

  “…TIME,” someone said sadly.

  “…WASTE.”

  The pressure on the door faded.

  Silence returned.

  They waited a full minute.

  Then Bert sat up. “I think that worked.”

  Leo coughed, wiped imaginary blood from his mouth. “I hate that it did.”

  Harlada straightened her robes. “Next time, we fake something less degrading.”

  Bert grinned. “I thought it was very authentic.”

  They leaned back against the barricade again.

  Outside, the Maze continued.

  Inside, for the moment—

  They were left alone.

  ***

  Leo cleared his throat and looked up. “Maze?”

  The hum responded, neutral.

  “Do we get an achievement for that?” he asked. “Performance-wise.”

  A pause.

  Achievements are typically reserved for tutorial environments.

  Bert opened his mouth to argue.

  The Maze pulsed again.

  Exception granted.

  Achievement unlocked: ACTOR.

  Description: Successfully avoided mandatory combat through convincing performance.

  Harlada smiled faintly. “I knew the screaming would pay off.”

  The hum settled back into its usual, indifferent rhythm.

  Somewhere, the Maze updated its metrics.