ACT I   SCENE III
CEDALIÔN

     A HAND gripped her shoulder. "Hey. Hey, wake up."

She jolted awake with a gasp, only for the hand to clamp over her mouth. Newt's face hovered inches above hers, a finger pressed to his lips. She stared at him in bewilderment. They seriously needed to stop meeting like this.

Behind him, she could see Minho shift in his hammock. Newt slowly removed the hand from her mouth and gestured for her to get up. "Come on, hurry."

She glanced once more at Minho's back, then hurried after Newt's retreating figure. Cassandra tiptoed after the blonde boy, dancing between outstretched limbs and heads lying on the grass. They crossed the empty expanse of the Glade towards a section of the wall covered with ivy and she could see a pane of glass underneath the leaves. Newt stopped in front of it, pushing some vines away to reveal a window covered in dirt and grime.

"What are we doing?" she asked carefully.

"You'll see," he said. "Won't be long now."

Curiosity took hold of her, and she moved closer towards the window to peer through. At first, she couldn't see anything, then she managed to make out the stony interior of the Maze beyond. She looked up and down, left and right, examining every inch—long corridors ending in sharp turns and eerie crossroads. They waited for another minute or two as she sat on her haunches.

"What are we waiting for?" she hissed over her shoulder with a tint of impatience in her voice.

Newt held a finger up to his lips. "There... you hear that?"

She turned back around and listened with strained senses, then she heard it. There was a mixture of mechanical whirring and a low hollow ringing, accompanied by the sound of something wet rolling across the ground. It was a bone-chilling sound that made her hair stand on end. She peered through the window, pulse quickening with anticipation.

There was movement, shadows flickering, then she saw it. Long metallic arms, serrated spikes, and a grotesque, slithering body emerged into view. She ducked low, her heart slamming against her ribs. Whatever it was, she just knew it was no good. The abomination stopped just in front of the glass and let out a soul-shattering shriek. It was the same scream she heard before.

An image of a blinding white room that was cold and clinical flashed behind her eyelids. The Griever's shriek gave way to a distant scream that rang from the depths of her soul. But it was gone before she could even process it.

Only when she heard the faint clicking of metal claws did she dare peek again. The creature had gone off down the long corridor in front of them, its oozing backside dragging slick trails in its wake. The only way she could describe it was a twisted fusion of flesh and machine—an experiment gone horribly wrong. She pressed her palms against her chest to calm her nerves, feeling relieved that it was going away from them.

"That's a Griever," Newt explained behind her. "They're the reason why we don't go out into the Maze... why we're safe here behind these Walls and why the Doors close every evening."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, too terrified and shocked to utter a single syllable.

"Get stung by one of those beasties and it's good shucking night unless you get a Grief Serum in time," he went on. "But you go through the Changing and it sucks."

She turned slowly to look at him and there was empathy in his eyes as he shrugged back. "Figured it was easier to show people what's out there. Stops 'em from running out, ya see."

Cassandra had absolutely no idea what to say, or how to even respond. Why would anyone want to run out there in the first place?

"It's why we stick to the rules," he continued. "Maintain order while the Runners map the place and try to figure a way out."

Cold dread settled over her. She wanted to go back to the Homestead, curl up in her hammock and forget about what she had just seen.

"It's no joke out there."

"I get it," she spoke with an edge. "I get it, Newt."

"Good that," he replied with a nod. "It's almost time for the wake-up and Alby's gonna wanna talk to you."

She felt numb, the memory of the creature still seared into her retinas and brain cells. A weight of helplessness dropped down on her and even more questions sprung from her mind. Newt walked over and helped her back to her feet. His hand was warm and comforting. It felt nice to have human contact; she felt like her soul had just about departed from her body.

She was still reeling from the encounter when a red beam of light blinked to life behind the ivy. Cassandra started, immediately whirling her head in its direction. Something moved from across the wall, scuttling towards them as if to have a closer look at her. The creature looked like a large metallic centipede with letters scrawled across its torso in deep red. She grabbed Newt and ducked behind him, pointing. "There's something there!" she squeaked.

Newt chuckled at her reaction as if he was used to it. "Don't worry, it's just a beetle blade."

"A what?"

"A beetle blade—the Creators use 'em to spy on us."

"They what?!" Already, she felt her privacy being invaded.

"C'mon, let's mosey along now. It's exactly time for wake-up," Newt said, turning her around without so much as a care in the world for the creepy red light that followed their footsteps. But Cassandra continued to suspiciously eye the beetle blade over her shoulder.

When they reached the Homestead, Newt gave a little two-finger wave as he parted ways with her. "See ya later, Greenbean," he said and made his way to the kitchen. Cassandra watched him leave for a few seconds before spinning on her heel. She took a step—then smacked her face into something solid. A pair of arms reached out to grab hold of her and she heard a familiar voice snicker.

"What's up, Greenbean?"

Minho. She grumbled something unintelligible under her breath and rubbed her nose. The boy looked over her head at Newt's retreating figure and managed to put two and two together. He crossed his thick arms, flexing his muscles somehow as he did so.

"So you got the view," he stated. "That's what I got to deal with every single day. No biggie, dude."

She raised an unimpressed brow at him, unsure as to whether he was being reassuring or boastful. All she wanted to do was to forget about the big creepy monster in the big creepy maze.

"Please, I just want to go back to sleep," she grumbled. His lips twitched in amusement.

"C'mon, Greenie, let's put some food in you," he said, leading her back to the Homestead.

They grabbed some breakfast from Frypan and sat at a bench together. She could feel Minho's gaze on the top of her head as she ate and she lifted her eyes to look at him. "What is it?" she asked with a raised brow.

"Hold out your left arm," he requested.

Cassandra shot him a look of bewilderment before obliging. He reached out to guide her arm out at an angle before pointing towards the underside. "There. I thought I was just seeing things at first but there's something in your arm."

She twisted her arm a little more towards herself and finally saw it. There was something implanted beneath her skin, measuring about five centimeters like a matchstick. Her finger reached up to prod it and she could make out the outline of a thin scar on her skin where an incision was made. Something came back to her about the female anatomy and she widened her eyes in astonishment. Well, at least there was one problem she didn't have to deal with.

"Maybe you should get the Med-jacks to check it out," Minho suggested.

"N-no, I think that's meant to be there," she replied.

"Ya sure? That doesn't look natural to me." Minho raised a dubious eyebrow in her direction.

She nodded vigorously. "Trust me, it's necessary."

When they were almost done with breakfast, Alby came over saying that he needed to talk to her and gave Minho a dismissive look. From the moment they met, she did not like Alby all that much. "See you later, Greenbean." Minho cocked his head, stood up and made his way to one of the Doors.

"You, let's go."

Cassandra turned to scowl at Alby, who was already walking off towards the east side of the Glade. She thought about flipping him off but it wouldn't be worth the slap on the wrist. Hurrying after him, she almost tripped over herself to catch up to him. The sun still hung low in the blue dawn and dew kissed the skin of her ankles. Alby started talking as soon as she caught up to pace.

"We only got three rules," he started. "One: Everyone does their part. No slackers. Two: Never hurt another Glader. We have to trust each other. Three: Never go outside the Glade, unless you're a Runner."

"Sounds fine by me," she responded.

"Newt told me you put in a request to work in the garden or kitchen." He stopped and looked at her with hands on his hips. "That won't do. I don't care if you're a girl, no exceptions. You're gonna work to earn your place here just like the rest of us, Greenie."

She thought he looked like a drill captain about to sentence a new recruit to scullery duty. "Alright, fine." She sighed in defeat. "You're the boss."

"Good that." He nodded satisfactorily. "Now you need to answer me truthfully." Her senses perked up, and she turned to him in anticipation. "You said you remember stuff, right?" She nodded. "You still remembering them?"

She nodded once more, waiting to know where this conversation was leading to. Alby crossed his arms and sighed, his face twisting in a way as if his next words would physically pain him.

"Right. We want you to be a Runner."

She nearly blanched. "What? But Newt said I wouldn't last a minute out there with the Grievers," she blurted.

The Grievers. Her mind reeled. She had only just come to terms with those monstrosities and now they want her to chase after them.

"Minho'll train you," he told her with a sigh as if he knew and didn't approve as well. "You can be his partner. We want you to look around the Maze, see if you start remembering anything. Anything at all. And technically, only Runners are allowed in the Maze."

She stared at him uncertainly. There was reasoning behind his words, sure, she was a variable that could possibly help them solve their puzzle. It couldn't hurt to try. Cassandra bit her lip as she felt a pit in her stomach. But it was the Maze.

"'Course, we're not gonna throw you in just like that," he reassured her. "It usually takes a few months until we think you're ready. Until then, you're stuck in here like the rest of us."

Trapped behind the walls or hunted within the Maze. Some choice. "Lucky me," she muttered.

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