𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐀'𝐒━ nightmares morphed into vivid flashbacks, unearthing fragments of her life before the Maze. Each vision clawed at her mind, making the blonde girl want to gouge out her eyes to escape the torment unfolding before her.

She saw flashes of medical fluids spilling, doctors bustling frantically, and the faint glow of various monitors. The chaotic scene swallowed her, pulling her deeper into the haunting memories.

Then she saw herself.

Her golden hair was swept into an elegant, polished bun, and she wore pristine white clothing: a fitted crew neck and matching pants. Her bright blue eyes shimmered with an ethereal light, so vivid they seemed to pierce the sterile atmosphere around her.

At the periphery of her vision, a figure emerged—a girl with chestnut-brown hair cascading down her shoulders and matching blue eyes. She was stunning, her beauty almost otherworldly. Sylvia's gaze lingered on her until she noticed another presence beside her.

Thomas.

The sight of him in her dream filled Sylvia with confusion. Why was he there? Why now? Her mind raced, but her eyes kept scanning the room, drawn to another pair of strangers: a boy and a girl.

The boy stood out immediately. His gaze locked onto hers, his piercing eyes brighter than the sunlit ocean on a cloudless summer day. His tousled hair framed his face perfectly, and the shadows beneath his eyes—dark crescents etched by sleepless nights—added a strange allure to his otherwise youthful features.

Before she could process any of it, a cold, skeletal hand gripped her shoulder, sending icy tendrils down her spine. A breath, chilling and rasping, brushed against her ear, followed by a whisper that seemed both alien and familiar.

"You're doing wonderfully, sweetie. I'm so proud of you, my darling," crooned a raspy yet soothing voice. It was haunting, yet it filled Sylvia with a strange, inexplicable comfort, as if the speaker had known her all her life.

The dream spiraled into chaos.

The boy from before—his name flickered in her mind: Aris—was now gripping her hands tightly, guiding her into a sterile, empty room. His face was pale, and his voice trembled with both urgency and fear.

“Aris, what’s happening?” she asked, smoothing the hem of her white skirt nervously.

Aris swallowed hard, his voice laced with dread and tenderness. “Sylvia, you’re going up to the Maze. You’ll be one of the first.”

She shrugged, feigning indifference, though her heart hammered against her ribcage. “And? I’m ready for whatever comes. Don’t worry about me—I’m sure the others will be welcoming.” Her voice carried a false confidence, masking her growing unease.

Aris hesitated, his lips parting to speak again, but the door burst open before he could utter another word.

Ava Paige.

The blonde woman entered with an air of authority, her piercing gaze silencing the room. Without a word, she took Sylvia’s hand, her grip firm yet cold.

“It’s time,” Ava said curtly, casting Aris a sharp, warning glare that froze him in place. Whatever he had intended to say was swallowed by the tension in the room.

Sylvia was pulled away before she could resist, her mind swirling with unanswered questions.

━━━

She awoke with a start, her chest heaving, the remnants of the dream clinging to her like a second skin. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, and her once-neat hair was now a tangled mess, resembling a bird’s nest.

Throwing off the thin blanket, she slid out of bed, her bare feet sinking into the cool, gritty earth. The night air was thick and oppressive, but Sylvia needed an escape. She wandered toward the pens in the Blood House, hoping the presence of the animals might calm her restless mind.

She leaned against the wooden fence, her fingers brushing the coarse surface as she gazed at the creatures within. They moved lazily, their serenity a stark contrast to the storm raging inside her.

“Why can’t I be like you?” Sylvia murmured, her voice barely audible. “Why can’t I fit in, find my place, be... someone?”

Lowering herself to the ground, she sat on the dirt, her legs tucked beneath her. The earthy scent mingled with the faint musk of the animals, grounding her, if only for a moment. A particularly fluffy sheep ambled over, its soft, woolly coat pressing against her side. Sylvia smiled faintly, resting her head against the creature.

As the hours dragged on, fatigue overtook her. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and sleep claimed her once more.

But even in this fleeting moment of peace, her mind churned with the echoes of her dream. The boy with the piercing eyes, Thomas, the woman with the comforting yet unsettling voice—they haunted her thoughts.

Was she the key to something greater, a crucial piece in an unsolvable puzzle? Or was she merely a naïve girl grasping for answers in a world that offered none?

Sylvia didn’t know. But as she slept beside the sheep, the question lingered in her mind, unanswered, heavy with the weight of possibility.