Threads of Hope | A Newt x Reader Story

04

"This is where we spend most of our time," Minho explained, as he pulled a map off the wall. He spread it out on the table, pointing to the intricate paths and walls. "Runners come here after each run to update the maps. Anything new we learn gets marked, tracked, and we do it all over again the next day."

I reached out and ran my fingers over the lines, feeling the weight of it—the history. "So, these are the same maps every Runner has worked on?"

"Yep." Minho's voice softened slightly. "All the way back to when we first got here, two years ago. We know this Maze better than anyone. But that doesn't mean we're not still figuring it out."

I nodded slowly, taking it all in. I wasn't sure if I understood the full scope of what Minho was saying, but it was clear that being a Runner wasn't just about speed or strength. It was about knowledge. About understanding the Maze like it was a living thing, constantly shifting and changing.

Minho stood up. "Alright, let's go. You've got your supplies. You've seen the map." He looked at me, his eyes narrowing. "You ready for your first real run?"

My heart skipped, but I stood straighter, determined. "I'm ready."

Minho gave a short nod. "Good. Because out there"—he gestured toward the wall—"there's no room for hesitation. The Maze waits for no one."

I followed him out of the Map Room, taking one last glance at the maze of lines and markings on the table. The weight of what I was about to do settled into my chest, but there was a fire in my belly that I couldn't ignore.

Minho led me to the doors of the Maze, where the rest of the Runners would begin their day. The heavy steel doors groaned as they opened, revealing the shifting walls of the Maze beyond.

"Stay close," Minho called over his shoulder as he stepped forward.

The air felt thick with anticipation as Minho and I stood at the wall to the Maze, the concrete looming in front of us, slowly shifting open in a loud rumble. I could feel the weight of the task ahead pressing against my chest. This was it— my first real run through the Maze.

I adjusted the pack on my back, ensuring everything was secured, as Minho looked over his shoulder at me with that trademark smirk.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice full of that confident energy I had already come to expect.

I met his gaze, holding his eye for a beat longer than I intended. The flutter of nerves in my stomach made me question if I was really ready, but I wasn't going to back out now.

"Ready," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Just as Minho took a step forward to lead the way, a voice cut through the early morning air—gruff and filled with concern.

"Minho."

We both turned to see Newt walking briskly toward us, his face set in that familiar expression of deep thought. There was a look of unease in his eyes, something I hadn't seen in him yet.

Minho's face softened, but the tension in the air grew thick as Newt closed the distance.

"You need to slow down," Newt said to Minho, his gaze shifting to me. "She's new, Minho. You sure about this?"

I stood frozen, feeling an uncomfortable weight settle in my stomach. Newt's words hung in the air, and I felt the skepticism in his tone like a cloud between us. He wasn't sure about me.

Minho didn't back down, however. His confidence remained firm as ever. "She's fine, Newt. I've seen her run. She's quick, and she's got the instincts. Plus, she's gotta learn the Maze someday."