I step forward, my movements unhurried, deliberate. The game board shifts, pieces rearranging themselves in my favor. The Labyrinth may test me, may hunger, but hunger does not concern the one who holds the feast.
The archway looms ahead, its gnarled wood twisted into an almost delicate structure, deceptively fragile. But I know better. This is no ordinary entrance—it's a threshold, a boundary between the world that hesitates before me and the deeper mysteries waiting inside.
The amulet at my chest pulses again, insistent. It recognizes the shift in the game, the stakes rising. I let my fingers brush over it lightly. It's eager. Perhaps even… impatient.
"You feel it too, don't you?" I murmur, half to the amulet, half to the air around me. Wonderland is listening. It always is.
The voice, now subdued, watches silently. I can sense it. It knows it has lost the first round, but Wonderland does not give up easily. No, it adapts. It evolves. And so must I.
I have choices.
1. Enter boldly, as if I own the place – Because, let's be honest, I soon will. No hesitation, no second-guessing. Let the Labyrinth know from the start that I am not here to survive it—I am here to master it.
2. Observe first – Just because the path is clear doesn't mean it's safe. The Labyrinth is alive, after all. There could be traps woven into the very air, illusions meant to disorient. A moment of patience could reveal much.
3. Test the Labyrinth's response – A little experiment. A flick of magic, a thrown stone, a whisper of power to see how the Labyrinth reacts to intrusion. It would be wise to gauge just how aware it really is.
The path awaits, the game advancing to its next stage.
And I always play to win.
What's my move?