A low hiss split the silence overhead—subtle, sharp, and unmistakably close.
Elijah froze.
The air was still, thick with the scent of ancient stone and something else… something acrid. His breath hitched as he slowly tilted his head back. Nestled against the seam between two massive bricks above was a creature—a mottled, lizard-like thing with spines along its back and long, spindly limbs. Its eyes gleamed gold in the dim light, slitted and unblinking.
It hadn't pounced yet. Maybe it hadn't fully spotted him.
Then it blinked. And the hiss became a screech.
Elijah darted back instinctively as the creature lunged.
It landed where he'd been standing a half-second before, claws cracking the stone floor with their impact. No time to assess—he sprinted down the left corridor, heart slamming in his chest, boots skidding on the damp flagstones.
The thing gave chase.
Its limbs clicked and scraped against the walls and floor with unnatural speed, moving more like an insect than a lizard. Elijah weaved around a tight corner, half-expecting it to slam into the wall behind him—but it was faster than he thought. Too fast. He rounded another turn, but the path forked ahead.
Left or right?
Another screech sounded from behind—closer than ever.
Right. He took it without thinking.
His lungs burned. This wasn't just fear-induced adrenaline—he was reaching his physical limit. Despite all his training, Elijah's greatest strength wasn't raw speed or endurance. He wasn't built for running.
And worse—he had no real tools for escape.
His stickiness could help him hide or climb… slowly. But it wasn't going to put distance between him and something faster than a wolf and twice as nimble. Not without creativity.
Another turn. Another corner. He risked a glance back.
Too late.
The creature leapt.
Elijah dropped low on instinct, rolling into the corner. The beast soared just over his shoulder, skidding slightly as it landed, recalibrating instantly.
He wasn't going to outrun it.
He needed to change the playing field.
Spotting a rough patch of wall to his left, Elijah veered toward it and leapt, activating his ability. His palms adhered instantly, and he scrambled upward, crawling into the shadows above the archway. He pressed himself flat, heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Below, the creature slowed. It sniffed, paced. Its head swung from side to side, hunting by sound and scent. A few moments passed. Then, with a low growl of frustration, it turned and skittered down the opposite path.
Elijah didn't move. Not until the sound of clawed feet vanished entirely.
Then, with a shaky breath, he dropped down.
"Damn," he muttered, slumping back against the stone. "That thing almost had me… and all I did was run."
He hated how helpless he'd felt. He had trained, improved—so he thought—but when it came to mobility, to actually escaping something that hunted you down like prey…?
He was still near the bottom of the food chain.
His grip tightened against the stone. His fingers stuck naturally as they always did—too naturally. That part of his power was second nature by now. Stick to things. Climb things. Hang from ceilings if he had to.
But none of that helped when he needed to move. Fast.
And just like that, the memory returned—
Two Months Ago – New Haven Library, Engineering Annex
Elijah sat cross-legged in the back corner, surrounded by dusty tomes, tablets, and a projection of 3D atomic models rotating lazily above his desk. Diagrams of insect footpads and gecko hairs floated alongside spell theory notes.
"Van der Waals…" he murmured under his breath, scribbling into a notebook. "Intermolecular forces… induced dipoles… surface area of contact…"
He paused, looking into the distance as he gathered his thoughts.
"Right now, my power just… copies those interactions. Sticks me to stuff." He flipped back a page, where he'd written an earlier question in big block letters:
What if I don't want to stick—what if I want to pull?
His notes were full of half-baked sketches—ribbons of mana latching to walls, angled force vectors, coil diagrams.
Theorizing was one thing. Application? Entirely another.
Still… the idea had stayed with him.
Present — The Labyrinth
Elijah stood and backed away from the wall, his fingers still tingling with adrenaline. He extended one hand toward the far ledge above. It was too far to reach by climbing—but maybe not too far for… something else.
He focused.
"Stickiness outwards," he muttered. "Try to induce the same interaction, just… remotely."
He pulsed mana into his palm and pushed the sensation forward.
Nothing.
He grimaced and tried again, this time visualizing a thread, a tendril—a sort of mana line, sticky on one end, anchored to him at the other.
Mana surged.
And fizzled.
His fingers sparked faintly, but the energy didn't project. It just… melted across his skin like sweat.
"Too diffuse," he muttered. "Focus it. Narrower field, tighter binding…"
He shaped his hand like he was flicking a card and tried again.
A small splat of mana fired—more like a puff of sticky air. It hit the wall and slid down it.
"Gross," he muttered.
He adjusted again. This time forming a mental image of a gecko's foot pad, pressing into a surface. Amplify that interaction. Compress it into a line. Launch it.
Nothing at first—then a flicker.
A thin thread of translucent mana zipped forward, wobbling like a drunk lightning bolt. It hit the wall—and detached instantly.
"Damn it," he hissed, flexing his fingers. "Okay. Again."
He crouched and rolled his wrist, trying to match the gesture to the imagined trajectory. Fire. Fail. Fire. Fizzle. Miss. Slide. Stick—then collapse.
Minutes passed.
Each failure felt like it drained a little more from him—but he could feel something building. A tickle at the back of his brain, a whisper of stimulus in his core, like he was teasing open a new nerve ending that hadn't been meant for him yet.
Normally, only emitters could manipulate forces like this. Enhancers like him used internal energy. But what if…
What if this wasn't a different type of power?
What if it was just a different way to use what he already had?
Elijah closed his eyes and inhaled.
"Stick. Pull. Transfer. Bind."
He opened his palm, this time shaping the mana like he would if he were sticking to a wall—only focused outward. One direction. One purpose.
He fired.
The line snapped out.
It held.
Just for a second—but enough to feel the connection tug on his wrist before it slipped.
He exhaled hard. "Okay. Now we're getting somewhere."
Another try.
Stick.
Tug.
Hold.
He took a running step, fired the line—latched to a low ledge above—and jumped.
He swung awkwardly, missed his landing, and hit the far wall with his shoulder.
"AH—son of a—!"
He landed in a heap, wincing. Shoulder bruised, ankle sore.
But he laughed. Just once.
"I'll take it."
Elijah limped out of the cul-de-sac where he'd crashed and took a moment to rest his back against the cool stone wall. His shoulder throbbed from the impact, and his ankle wasn't thrilled either, but pain meant he was still alive.
More importantly, his experiment had worked.
Mostly.
He glanced at his wristband. No damage warnings, no mana exhaustion alerts. Still in the green.
"Alright," he muttered. "Let's try not to break anything important on the next swing."
His surroundings buzzed faintly with magic. The labyrinth was massive, and now that he was out of immediate danger, he realized just how oppressive the silence could be. No birds. No wind. Just faint echoes, like the maze itself was alive, listening.
Elijah realized that he had spent a lot of time on his experiment and must be falling behind in the race to the center of the maze.
A glow pulsed faintly up ahead—blue, soft, and steady. Elijah crept forward and peeked around the corner.
There it was.
A crystal alcove.
It glowed like a miniature moon embedded in the wall, resting atop a raised stone platform. A translucent blue gem roughly the size of a grapefruit sat within a stone cradle, its surface constantly swirling with inner light. Pure mana condensed into solid form.
But of course, it wasn't unguarded.
Between him and the crystal stood something reptilian, quadrupedal, and covered in dark scales mottled with flickering patterns. Its eyes glowed a soft violet, and smoke curled from its nostrils even as it crouched low, waiting.
Elijah ducked back around the wall and exhaled silently.
He knew the look. That thing was smart. Not just a beast, but a magical predator—probably summoned and left on loop to guard the crystal.
I'm not going through it. I'm going around it.
He scanned the chamber. The crystal alcove was tucked into a small room with three exits: the one he was near, another across from him, and one high up—a ledge, barely visible, carved into the wall above the alcove.
Perfect.
Sort of.
It was high. Twenty feet up, maybe more. The wall was smooth, too slick for basic climbing. But with his newly discovered technique…
Elijah backed up a few feet and crouched low, focusing mana into his hand. He fired the first tendril. It missed. The second hit the ledge but detached too soon. The third…
Stick.
A line of mana latched onto the edge of the upper ledge and held.
Elijah braced himself, took a few running steps, and leapt.
He swung in an arc, barely clearing the beast's vision cone. The creature's head twitched—sniffed—but it didn't turn. It hadn't seen him.
Good.
He climbed the last few feet manually, then crouched on the upper ledge, pressing himself flat to avoid casting shadows. The crystal sat directly below now, the beast curled not far from it.
He couldn't sneak down and backtrack. The only way was forward.
So he set a plan.
Plan A: Make noise on the far side of the room, draw the creature away, drop down, grab the crystal, and web-sling his way out the far exit.
It sounded clean. Which meant it wouldn't be.
Elijah looked around for something to throw. A loose rock nearby would do.
He wound up, aimed for the opposite corridor, and let the rock fly.
It clattered loudly off the wall and skidded down the far tunnel.
The beast's head snapped toward the sound. Its muscles tensed, claws scraping against the stone. It rose, cautiously, and slinked toward the noise.
Go. Now.
Elijah swung down from the ledge in a smooth arc and dropped the last few feet. He hit the stone silently, heart hammering. The crystal pulsed in front of him, brighter up close—buzzing faintly, like it was aware of his presence.
He grabbed it.
The instant his fingers touched the crystal, he felt mana course through him like liquid lightning. His hair stood on end, and his body tensed instinctively.
Too late, he realized what he'd missed.
The pedestal was part of a detection glyph.
The moment he removed the crystal, the entire alcove lit up in shimmering runes—and the guardian turned with a roar.
"Crap!"
Elijah took one glance at the incoming beast, pivoted, and launched his sticky line toward the archway across the chamber.
It latched. He yanked hard and let the line pull him forward.
The creature lunged.
Its claws swiped just inches from his heel as he zipped through the archway, crashing into the corridor wall beyond.
He scrambled to his feet and sprinted, not looking back. The beast gave chase for several yards, then stopped short, held back by the barrier of its summoning circle.
Elijah didn't stop running until the sound faded completely.
Only then did he slow and collapse against the wall, panting.
He uncurled his fingers just enough to look at the prize.
The mana crystal was still glowing, pulsing with energy. His bracelet lit up with a soft chime.
[Crystal Acquired – 1/3]
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"One down," he breathed. "Two to go."
His arms trembled slightly, the exertion finally catching up with him. But inside… he felt lighter. Not just because of the crystal.
He had pushed his power in a new direction—his direction. Not some drill instructor's idea of a perfect enhance-type. Not even the instructors' visions for him. This was something he had built from the ground up.
And it worked.
Mostly.
He still needed practice. His anchor lines were short-ranged, wobbly, and unreliable, but they moved him. That alone could be the difference between surviving and scoring nothing.
He leaned against the wall and let the thrill settle.
A low rumble echoed through the halls.
At first he thought it might be the beast he'd escaped… but no. This was different. Rhythmic. Unsteady.
Footsteps.
Human footsteps.
Then—
A crash.
A burst of flame.
A scream.
Elijah's body went rigid. That was no beast. That was two students, maybe more, fighting—hard.
The echoes sharpened into words.
"Give it here, damn you—!"
"You want it? COME TAKE IT!"
A heavy thud followed by a metallic crunch.
Elijah crept forward, careful not to make a sound. The corridor curved, leading toward a chamber faintly lit by flickering red light.
He crouched just before the bend and peeked around.
He saw only shadows—figures darting back and forth. Magic burst in bright flashes: a whip of lightning, a jet of water, something like a shattering sonic pulse.
Three silhouettes. Maybe four.
Students.
Fighting.
Hard.
Over a crystal?
Or maybe more than that.
Elijah ducked back, heart racing.
This wasn't some schoolyard rivalry. The Awakening Exams weren't just testing power. They were pushing people to desperation. It made him think of what Tim had said.
"Everyone's on their own."
And more than ever, Elijah believed it.
He slid back into the shadows, one hand on his mana-sticky grip, the other still clutching the glowing crystal.
There were monsters in the maze.
And not all of them were summoned.