Clack Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

Footsteps thundered against the polished marble floors as they ran at full speed, Aren, Leon, Aiden, and Kira pushing their bodies to the limit. Their breaths came out sharp and fast, chests burning, legs screaming as they sprinted through the endless hallways of the castle.

They weren't alone.

Other Awakened were running in the same direction, some ahead of them, some behind, some weaving in from side corridors. No one knew where they were going. No one knew where an exit was. But everyone knew one thing.

They had to keep moving.

Stopping meant death.

The castle itself felt alive now. The walls seemed closer than before, the corridors longer, twisting in ways that made it impossible to tell if they were even heading somewhere meaningful. Every echo of footsteps sounded too loud, as if the castle itself was listening.

"So, where are we going?" Leon shouted between breaths.

"I don't think any of us actually knows where an exit is," Kira replied, her voice strained but steady.

"Yeah," Aren said, eyes scanning the hall ahead, "but I think I might know a better place we can head to."

Leon glanced at him briefly while running. "Better how?"

Aren didn't answer immediately. His mind raced back to the days he had spent walking the castle with the butler. There had been a corridor, just one, where for the briefest moment, he had heard something.

Wind.

Distant sounds.

Something that felt like outside.

At the time, he had dismissed it. It had been subtle, fleeting, easy to forget. But now, with the castle actively trying to kill them, that memory stood out like a beacon.

"There was a place," Aren said, "where I thought I heard something from outside. I'm not sure, but it's the closest thing we've got."

"If there's even a chance," Aiden said, "it's better than running blind."

"I hope I can remember the way," Aren muttered.

Before they could push further, the group skidded to a halt.

Not just them.

Everyone running in that direction stopped at once.

Roughly fifteen Awakened stood frozen in the hallway, their momentum cut short by the sight ahead of them.

A figure stood calmly in the center of the corridor.

Hands folded neatly behind her back.

A maid.

She was beautiful in a quiet, unsettling way, black hair cascading down her shoulders, black eyes that reflected no light, skin pale and flawless. Her maid uniform was pristine.

She smiled.

"Are our guests already leaving?" she asked gently.

The words sent a chill through the air.

Aren immediately tensed, his instincts screaming danger

But one awakens here wasn't so cautious.

He stepped forward, confidence dripping from every movement. He was tall, early twenties at least, with a solid build. A sword rested at his waist, a small shield strapped to his arm. He wore a tight turtleneck shirt, leather pants, and boots worn from battle. His buzz-cut hair and posture made it clear he was used to fighting head-on.

"Let us through," he barked. "Or show us an exit."

"Don't just approach her!" a girl yelled. "She could be dangerous!"

The man ignored her completely.

He scoffed, brushing off the warning as if it were nothing. Clearly, he was one of the Awakened who had arrived late, someone who hadn't witnessed what the castle's servants were truly capable of.

He turned his head back toward the maid.

And coughed blood.

For a split second, no one understood what had happened.

Then they saw it.

A slick, black tentacle had pierced straight through his neck, entering from one side and bursting out the other. Blood gurgled from his mouth as his eyes widened in shock.

The tentacle had emerged from beneath the maid's skirt.

It twisted, wrapping tightly around his neck, and with a sickening crunch, shattered the bones inside. The man's body went limp almost instantly, his life snuffed out without even a chance to scream.

She let his corpse drop to the floor.

Her smile widened, unnaturally so, stretching almost to her ears as her eyes darkened completely, the whites vanishing into pitch-black voids.

"Our guests can't leave now," she said cheerfully.

Then she laughed.

The sound was wrong.

Her dress tore apart as more tentacles burst forth, ripping through fabric and flesh alike. They emerged from her lower back, writhing through the air like serpents, long, thick, slick with something dark and pulsing.

More than ten of them.

Each one coiled, ready to strike.

Fear slammed into the group like a physical force. Several Awakened stumbled backward, their faces pale, hands shaking. The ease with which she had killed one of them, one of the stronger ones, made it painfully clear how outmatched they were.

Then someone moved.

A boy clad entirely in white stepped forward, his long coat fluttering behind him. A sword flashed from its sheath as he swung, releasing a crescent-shaped arc of white energy that screamed through the air.

The blade sliced through several tentacles.

The maid screeched, her voice sharp and furious as black ichor sprayed across the marble floor.

The boy didn't hesitate.

He lunged forward again, seizing the opening.

But the tentacles moved faster.

Several whipped forward at once, slamming into his body with crushing force. He was hurled backward like a ragdoll, smashing against the wall with a dull crack before collapsing to the ground.

The severed tentacles regenerated rapidly, writhing and reforming as if nothing had happened.

But the damage had been done.

They had seen it.

She could be hurt.

That realization spread through the group like wildfire.

Leon was the next to act.

Metal surged around him as he formed a massive blade in midair, its edge gleaming with deadly intent. He thrust his arm forward, and the construct shot toward the maid at high speed.

Aren didn't wait as well, immediately summoning his lightning wolf and charging forward himself.

The maid saw him, and immediately her tentacles shot forward faster than an arrow. Aimed at his chest, while Aren slashed down with his claws.

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