The labyrinth did not collapse in a blaze of light and freedom the moment its chains were shattered, like some fairy tale promised.Instead, it deflated like a punctured lung—slowly, wheezing—and in its collapse began sucking everything it could into itself with one long, greedy inhale.
The air reeked of rust and sickly sweetness, like someone had ground up expired candy, mixed it into blood, and simmered it into soup. The walls dripped with black slime—only it wasn't liquid, but compressed memory. Each drop that hit the ground became a face, mouths opening as if to speak, only to gurgle out bubbles instead.
"...Damn it, it's feeding!" one ally screamed.
The words were barely out when his chest caved in, his whole body crumpling like a vacuum-sealed bag. Skin wrinkled, eyes popped like rotten grapes, and then he was gone—sucked straight into the labyrinth's cracks. All that remained was a faint, exhausted belch—from the labyrinth itself.
Ethan stared at the sight and, instead of crying, burst out laughing. He sounded like someone who'd just watched a bad parody."You guys heard that? The labyrinth burps. At least it's polite."
No one replied. The next second, another was "invited" away. He tried to run, but shadows snared his ankle. Memories were pulled out of him like threads—childhood photos, his mother's voice, his first kiss—each flashing in the air before shattering and vanishing down the labyrinth's gullet. When his body finally followed, he was already an empty husk.
"This is what you'd call… a Dark Feast, right?" Karl's voice drifted through the air. His spectral form should have dissolved with the broken chains, yet some fragment lingered, like a ghost overstaying its welcome on a friend's couch. "See, Ethan? Your choice let us be part of the main course. Don't you feel included?"
Ethan gritted his teeth, yet laughed colder still."At least we're not the entrée. The labyrinth itself is just the dining hall for those bastards pulling the strings. In the end, we're nothing more than crumbs on the tablecloth."
The ground split. A massive, tongue-like shadow lashed out, snaring another ally. As he was dragged away screaming, he wailed:"I don't want to die! I still haven't paid off my loans!"
"Ha!" Ethan couldn't help it. "At least you don't need to worry about debt collectors now. Maybe the labyrinth'll swallow the bank while it's at it."
One by one, they vanished, devoured, chewed into nothing. Worst of all, after every bite, the labyrinth hummed low in what almost sounded like gratitude, as though it were saying: Thank you for your patronage. Please come again.
At last, only Ethan and Karl's flickering remnant remained.
"Hey, Ethan," Karl muttered weakly. "Don't you see? This whole 'fate' thing… it's just a cosmic joke. We fought, bled, and died only to become seasoning for the feast."
Ethan stared into the writhing dark."Yeah. But you know what? Every joke needs an audience. As long as I'm still here, the curtain can't fall."
Karl was silent, then suddenly chuckled."That's your best trait—you cling to despair like some lunatic actor, turning it into theater."
The labyrinth convulsed, eager to swallow Ethan too. Shadows lunged like tongues, but instead of retreating, he spread his arms wide and shouted, dripping with mockery:
"Come on! Eat me! Let's see if you can choke on the last punchline! I promise, I'll stick in your throat!"
The darkness hesitated for the briefest beat, then surged madly, sealing the world in one ravenous gulp.
And as everything was consumed, Ethan's laughter rang out through the remains of flesh and memory—like a black comedy with no curtain call.