The Labyrinth Keys

The wooden door creaks open, the sound echoing in the empty hallway behind us. The first thing that hits me as I step outside is the heat. The wasteland stretches out before us, the horizon shimmering under the relentless sun. My eyes take a moment to adjust, squinting against the glare as I scan the endless expanse of cracked earth and jagged rocks.

Rin steps out behind me, the map clutched tightly in her hand. She pauses just long enough to roll up her sleeves, unfazed by the oppressive heat. I glance at her, but she doesn't seem to notice, her eyes fixed on the horizon.

For a moment, I consider asking what she's thinking, but then I see it—a glint of something metallic just a few dozen yards away.

"What's that?" I ask, pointing toward the anomaly.

Rin follows my gaze, her eyes narrowing. "Only one way to find out."

We trudge forward, the air growing heavier with each step. As we approach, the details become clearer: a squat, boxy vehicle half-buried in the dirt, its sleek surface reflecting the sunlight like polished steel. The design is alien, futuristic—definitely not something you'd expect to find out here.

Rin snorts. "Looks like they left us another gift. How generous."

I tilt my head and grunt as I pull the machine upright. "Assuming it even runs."

The small rover looks worn out, but from what I can tell, it appears to run on solar power. The metal is scorching to the touch, but this kind of vehicle might be one of the best ways to traverse the wasteland. It's a compact rover, low to the ground and reinforced with plates of some strange alloy. The large wheels seem well-suited for off-roading. The cockpit is small but functional, with a single seat and a dashboard crammed full of controls that look far too complicated for their own good.

I run my fingers along the side, feeling the cool surface despite the heat of the sun. There's a faint hum emanating from within, like it's still alive, waiting for someone to wake it up.

Rin hops in first. "I call driving."

I shake my head. "There's no way this thing works," I say, though part of me hopes I'm wrong.

Rin smirks. "You've been wrong before." She fiddles with a few of the controls, and after a moment, the rover roars to life with a steady hum.

The sound surprises me, and I give her an incredulous glare. "Son of a bitch. You've got to be kidding me."

Rin taps the top of the rover a few times. "Beats walking, that's for damn sure. Now get in—we've got a bastard to punch in the jaw."

I roll my eyes but climb in beside her, squeezing into the narrow cockpit. The seat is stiff, and the space is cramped, but it's still better than hiking through the wasteland on foot.

"Let's see what this thing can do," Rin says, gripping the controls with a steadiness that belies the tension in her voice. The rover drives like a car, and most of the extra buttons seem unnecessary. For Rin, driving is as natural as breathing. One thing I know about her is that she loves cars. She used to drive around in more than a dozen sports cars, fixing them up herself. Most of them were junkers before she got her hands on them.

The rover lurches forward, and the ground blurs beneath us as the large tread wheels carry us smoothly over the uneven terrain. For the first time in what feels like forever, I allow myself to relax—just a little.

As the wasteland begins to shrink behind us, a thought nags at the back of my mind. This thing is too convenient, too perfectly placed. The Last Valley Corporation doesn't seem to do anything without a reason.

I glance at Rin, who's focused on steering. "You think they left this here on purpose?"

She doesn't look at me, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "I'd bet they left it here for someone like us, but does it matter? We're using it. Let's just hope it gets us to Finn before someone else does."

I lean back, the steady hum of the rover filling the quiet between us. The wasteland slowly fades into the distance, and for the first time, a sense of hope stirs within me—maybe, just maybe, we've got a real shot at surviving this after all.

The barren landscape gives way to a dirt road, which gradually transitions into the outskirts of a city. Giant walls rise on all sides of Ashfield, massive gray slabs of concrete separating the city from the wasteland. As we drive closer, I spot a series of cell towers, all converging at the largest structure in the city.

The structure is a towering monolith dominating the skyline. It rises far above the walls, its surface a patchwork of glass and metal that glints with an otherworldly brilliance. The towers seem to converge at this central point, their cables snaking toward it like veins feeding into a beating heart.

The rover glides forward, and I find myself drawn to the gates ahead—massive slabs of reinforced steel embedded in the wall like the maw of some great beast. Above the gates, a digital display flashes in harsh red light, though I can't make out the text from this distance. The closer we get, the more the tension builds. Ashfield feels like a place that doesn't just keep people out—it keeps them in.

I glance over at Rin, who's been silent for most of the ride, her eyes fixed on the city ahead. She doesn't say anything, but her grip on the controls tightens slightly as we approach the looming structure.

Rin taps her ID onto a card reader, and the massive metal gates begin to open, sliding apart like tidal waves of steel in a vast ocean. We exchange a glance, silently acknowledging where we're headed. The rover is quickly ditched in an alleyway near our destination for now, and we move fast, our expressions hardening as we make our way to Finn's house.

Once we're on the main road, unease creeps over me. I feel eyes on me from every direction. Street vendors pause mid-sale, familiar faces and strangers alike stop to stare. Even children and the elderly gawk at me. A woman with a baby in her arms freezes, her husband standing nearby with an expression of awe. A police officer watches me like I've just committed first-degree murder and he's waiting to catch me in the act. An elderly man nearly trips, blinking at me as if blinded.

Rin notices and places a firm hand on my shoulder. "Look ahead, okay? Keep your eyes on the sidewalk. Let's find Finn quickly."

It's been a while since she's consoled me like this, and the gesture feels... pleasant. I nod. "It doesn't bother me. Let them look all they want. I know who I am." I say it with the same confidence that conquered Falastor's trial. But inside, I focus. Finn is our priority, and we need to destroy that black key.

We pick up the pace, moving briskly now, brushing off attempts by a few familiar faces to stop us. Finn's house finally comes into view, unchanged—a small white house with a fenced yard. Unassuming, pragmatic.

Rin doesn't hesitate, dramatically kicking the door down.

I shake my head as she strides inside, calling out like a gang boss. "Finn, get your ass out here! I owe you a broken nose!"

Her voice echoes through the small house, bouncing off the walls with an unnatural force. I glance around, half-expecting Finn to appear with his trademark grin, but the house remains eerily quiet. The place is in tatters, but it doesn't look like there was a fight. It looks like someone packed up in a hurry. The dishes from our last breakfast together are still in the sink, but many things are missing—his computer, most of his clothes, travel bags, wallets, cellphones—anything useful for someone on the run. It's not chaos; it's deliberate. Finn didn't just leave—he took his entire life with him.

"Damn it," Rin mutters, stepping into the living room. She kicks over a half-empty duffel bag, scattering its contents—a few old socks, a crumpled map, and an empty bottle of whiskey. "He knew we'd come looking for him."

I tap my chin. "Or... maybe he had a reason to leave in such a hurry. That key is extremely important. Maybe he understood the threat."

Rin frowns. "How? Finn couldn't read that note."

I move toward the back porch. "The key he's holding supposedly has a will of its own. Maybe it warned him."

I glance outside, but everything beyond the ransacked drawers looks untouched, just as we left it.

Rin steps beside me. "Do you think he...?"

I nod. "If he could, and if the key wasn't lying, then yeah—I think he revived Leona."

Rin sighs. "What now?"

I turn back toward the living room, pacing as I weigh our next move. The mention of Leona shifts the weight of the situation. If Finn revived her, it means he didn't just run for his life—he ran for hers, too. And if the key warned him, someone or something is already hunting him and presumably us.

I tap the slider impatiently, thinking. Chasing Finn without leads is pointless. It might be smarter—and faster—to focus on the keys themselves. Whoever forced Finn out of Ashfield is likely hunting the keys, and following the map we have could lead us to him. The key won't let him go so easily. Its corrupting influence will draw him toward the labyrinth, pulling him deeper into its clutches.

I glance at Rin, her fiery impatience barely contained as she paces near the door. "Rin, think about it. Finn's a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them. He's not running aimlessly—he's moving toward something. I'd bet my life it's the labyrinth."

Her pacing stops, and she frowns at me. "You think that damn key is steering him?"

I nod. "Yeah. Chasing him isn't the best way to catch him. We need to think ahead. Whoever scared him out of Ashfield... they're after the keys too. If we follow the map and locate the keys, we'll find Finn. The key will lead him there, whether he wants to or not."

Rin spits, "Why the hell are we bothering? He betrayed us, dumbass. Or did you forget he cast us aside like yesterday's trash?"

I clench my jaw, steadying my voice. "I didn't forget, Rin. Believe me, I haven't. But this isn't just about Finn anymore—it's bigger than him, bigger than us. If that key corrupts him completely, it won't just be his problem. It'll be everyone's. I'm not forgiving him. What he did to us was unforgivable. But I can't let him lose himself completely, either."

Her glare softens, just a fraction, though her arms stay crossed. "So, what? We play the heroes? Chase after someone who doesn't even want to be found?"

I take a deep breath. "We play smart. We're not doing this for Finn. We're doing this because if we don't, that cursed key will win. Or worse, some psychotic freak will get it. And I'm not about to let that happen. If the labyrinth truly has powers beyond what we understand, I won't let it fall into the wrong hands."

Rin mutters something under her breath, then kicks the duffel bag again for good measure. "Fine. But if we find him, I'm still breaking his nose."

I allow myself a small smirk. "Fair enough."

For now, we have a direction. If Finn is running, it's toward the labyrinth. We need to find him—and if his sister is alive, her too.

Rin mutters, "Guess we're officially treasure hunters."

I laugh. "Just don't take too many cursed objects."