Chapter 3

“Fear is not the enemy. It is a map showing all the dead ends.”

The silence inside the water was different. Not like in an empty room, but like in a coffin. Thick, hollow, all-consuming. No splash, no echo. Only the thud of my heart reverberating through my body, like the beat of a drum at someone else’s ritual.

I swam first. The others followed a little further back, their silhouettes now appearing in the murkiness of the glass walls, now vanishing. Like ghosts. Like reflections that didn’t match reality. Each swam along their own line, their own corridor. There were six of them.

I turned left, as indicated on the map — if it could even be called a map. A white rectangle with nothing but “Start” and the bold word: “CHOICE.” As if they weren’t inside the labyrinth, but the labyrinth was inside each of them.

The first turn. A dark corridor. The water here was cooler, and seemingly thicker. I felt fear touch my back, like a child’s hand in the dark.

Just breathe. Just swim, I repeated, my inner voice trembling.

The corridor widened. Up ahead — a metal door. An exit to the air. A room. I surfaced first.

The room was circular. White. No furniture. No corners. No shadows. Everything was illuminated from nowhere. On the wall — only a clock, its hand moving backward. In the center — a bowl of water. Above it, a plaque read:

“You cannot carry it away, but if you take it, you will perish. What is it?”

I froze. A riddle? I had expected something logical. But this — this was like a dream. Like a trap.

The room grew colder. My suit seemed to cling to my body, as if it were being wrung out from the inside. The door closed behind me. Not a single sound. Not even breathing. Only the tick-tock… in the opposite direction.

“What the hell…” I whispered. And then I heard it. My echo. Except it didn’t repeat my words. It laughed.

I gritted my teeth. Panic was already clawing up my throat.

What can you not carry away, but you have to take?

I closed my eyes. I pictured the coach. His voice, sharp as a blade: “There is no second chance.” No mistakes.

“You aren’t trapped. You are part of the structure.”

The answer came suddenly.

“Memory,” I whispered. “Or… choice. No. Breath.”

I took a breath — a deep one. And plunged into the bowl. The water inside was ice-cold. But beneath it, a passage revealed itself.

I made my move.

When I surfaced, my body was shaking, but my face was stone. I had emerged into a new section — and realized I had passed.

Behind me, a door slammed shut. The next participant was entering their room. Her name was Ailis — flexible, quiet. On the surface, the weakest of us, but with the eyes of a fighter.

And after her — Thomas. He always joked, always looked for my eyes. He had smiled at me before the jump. But a smile doesn’t save you in the labyrinth.

Then — Joe. The silent one. His father was a military man. Joe always kept to himself. He entered the water like a soldier entering battle.

I pressed on. Everyone was choosing their own corridor. Everyone was facing their own riddle. Some — their own fear.

The water was turning darker. The walls were no longer smooth, but cracked, as if the labyrinth itself were breathing.

And suddenly, loneliness. I realized my path was now completely isolated.

I was swimming alone. And with every meter, a question arose: what if the labyrinth knows exactly who to choose?