I let the silence stretch, unhurried, unbothered. The labyrinth ticks on, but in this moment, I control the rhythm. The clockwork guardian watches, its glowing eyes reflecting a quiet calculation. It wants truth?
Fine. A version of it, anyway.
"Purpose," I repeat, rolling the word across my tongue as if tasting it for the first time. Then, I meet its gaze, my own unreadable, layered. "Purpose is a fragile thing, isn't it? Some cling to it like a lifeline. Others forge it as they go. And me?"
I allow the smallest smirk to surface. "I find it where I please."
The guardian's gears click softly, considering. I step forward, just slightly, my movements measured but deliberate. "You call this place a labyrinth of gears and shadows. A place of shifting allegiances and broken ambitions. That means one thing: opportunity."
I gesture lightly to the vast machinery around us, the ever-turning cogs, the pathways shifting like the workings of some grand design. "Some enter this place seeking escape. Others, power. Some simply wish to survive." I tilt my head, studying the guardian just as it studies me. "I, however, do not simply seek things. I take them."
The amulet at my chest pulses, as if in agreement. The air itself seems to tighten.
"Now, tell me," I continue, my voice smooth, unhurried, "are you an obstacle in my path… or a part of the opportunity?"
The labyrinth hums, the ticking briefly faltering, as if the very mechanisms of this place are intrigued. The game shifts again, the pieces realigning.
And I never make a move without intent.