Perfect — here's a sample first chapter (~1,000 words) in a style suited for WebNovel: easy to read, cliffhanger-y, and binge-hooky. I'll break it into natural scene beats so you can see how the pacing flows.
Chapter 1: The Shift That Never Ends
The beep of the scanner was the only heartbeat keeping me alive.
"$4.99," I muttered, dragging a bottle of soda across the red laser.
The customer didn't even look at me. She was too busy scrolling her phone.
This was my life: eight hours a day under fluorescent lights that hummed like dying insects. My name tag read Ethan in faded letters, though most customers never read it. They just dropped their things on the counter, tapped their cards, and drifted back into the world outside like I didn't exist.
I wasn't a person here. Just a cashier. A pair of hands. A voice saying prices.
By the time my shift neared its end, I could feel the weight in my bones. The line had thinned, but I was still trapped in this glass box of monotony. A shelf leaned dangerously near the soda aisle, stacked with bottles I'd begged my manager to fix.
"Not in the budget," he'd said.
So of course, it was tonight—of all nights—that gravity decided to collect its debt.
CRASH.
The shelf toppled, bottles shattering like fireworks. Cola sprayed in dark geysers, fizzing across the floor. Someone screamed. I jumped over the counter instinctively—big mistake.
My foot landed wrong. Glass bit into my leg. Then heat—blazing, searing—erupted. The soda fridge's wiring sparked, igniting the sugary river at my feet. Fire bloomed, orange and hungry.
And in the middle of it all, I thought one last absurd thing: I don't get paid enough for this.
Darkness swallowed me whole.
But then… a voice.
"You are unbound. Bind, or be devoured."
I opened my eyes.
No fire. No store. No customers staring like I'd lost my mind.
Instead, I was standing in a corridor of endless stone. The walls breathed. Not like metaphorical breathing—literal expansion and contraction, as if the labyrinth itself inhaled and exhaled around me.
Above, torchlight flickered, though there were no torches. Just floating flames, like trapped will-o'-the-wisps.
My wound was gone. My uniform was gone too, replaced with simple leather armor, snug but lightweight. A dagger hung at my hip. My name tag was missing, but in its place, glowing letters burned across my forearm:
[Unbound: 0 Bonds]
"What the hell…" My voice echoed down the corridor, thin and small.
That voice from before—calm, disembodied, terrifying—returned.
"To walk alone is to perish. Bind, or be consumed."
A shadow moved.
I spun, dagger trembling in my hand. From the gloom, a figure emerged—a young man, lean, ragged cloak, twin daggers glinting. His smirk was sharp enough to cut glass.
"Well, well. Another newborn." His eyes darted to my arm. "Unbound, too. You won't last five minutes."
"Where… where am I?" I asked, hating how my voice shook.
He snorted. "The Infinite Labyrinth. A prison. A grave. Call it what you like. Doesn't matter. You've only got one choice if you want to live."
He raised his hand. Across his forearm, glowing letters burned:
[Bonded: 3]
"Bond with me. Or the labyrinth eats you alive."
I froze. The words bond with me sounded less like help and more like a trap. His grin didn't help.
"What does that even mean?"
"You really don't know." His grin widened. "Cute. Here's the deal: bonds are power. They tie souls together. The more bonds you make, the stronger you become. Break one, though…"
He drew his dagger and pressed it against his chest, mock theatrical. "And snap. Heart stops. Both parties die. Romantic, isn't it?"
My stomach dropped. "So if I bond with you, you could"
"Kill you whenever I like? Sure." His tone was almost cheerful. "But don't worry. I only kill when it's profitable."
He stepped closer. The corridor seemed to tighten around us, stone walls exhaling a hot, sour breath. Somewhere in the distance, something slithered.
The voice whispered again, harsher this time:
"Bind. Or be devoured."
The rogue extended his hand, glowing letters swirling brighter around his arm like a living tattoo.
"Decision time, cashier-boy. Bond with me… or let the labyrinth take you."
And from the darkness behind me, I heard it—the scrape of claws on stone. Heavy. Getting closer.