The labyrinth of the lost

Number 3 gestured for Number 29 to follow her, their steps crunching softly against the dirt path as they moved deeper into the camp. Ahead, in the distance, two familiar figures caught Number 29's attention.

It was Number 11 and Number 5, locked in what looked like another heated argument. Number 11's tall, commanding frame loomed over Number 5, who gestured wildly with a mix of defiance and irritation.

Number 3 sighed as she noticed them. "Those two," she muttered, shaking her head. "Like oil and water. Number 11 is always trying to get 5 to pull his weight, find a task, anything to contribute. But Number 5? He's just… stubborn. A young rebel who refuses to take orders."

Number 29 watched the scene silently, noting the frustration etched on Number 11's face as he tried to make his point. Number 5, in contrast, wore a cocky grin that seemed designed to provoke. It was clear this wasn't their first confrontation.

"Do they ever get along?" Number 29 asked.

"No," Number 3 replied flatly. "And honestly? I don't think they ever will."

Leaving the pair to their argument, Number 3 led Number 29 toward an open field where a makeshift dirt track had been cleared. There, six figures jogged in a steady, purposeful rhythm: Numbers 2, 7, 16, 18, 23, and 27. Their faces were set with determination, their movements synchronized despite the grueling pace.

"Those are our 'explorers,'" Number 3 said, her tone laced with a hint of pride. "Number 2 is their leader. He was the second to arrive, and he kind of… volunteered to take charge of this group. They've been training for weeks, preparing to be the first to step into the labyrinth when the clock hits zero."

Number 29 frowned, his gaze lingering on the runners. "But what if they fail? What if they can't find a way out?"

Number 3 stopped walking and turned to face him, her expression calm but unwavering. "Then we'll find the way ourselves," she said bluntly. "No matter what, we'll keep moving forward. Standing still isn't an option here."

Her words hung in the air for a moment before she gestured toward the runners again. "But that's a problem for later. For now, Number 11 has been working on a plan. He may seem like a tyrant, barking orders and trying to take control, but one thing's for sure—he wants us to survive."

Number 29 nodded, his thoughts swirling. It was hard to reconcile the seemingly endless challenges of this place with the calm resolve of the people around him.

Number 3 glanced back at the runners. "They're busy now, but you'll have time to meet them later. Every night, we gather by the fire to talk, share what we've learned, and plan. It's the one time we're all together."

She turned back toward the camp, motioning for Number 29 to follow. "Come on," she said, her voice lightening slightly. "Let's go see Number 6. He's in charge of the fish. Maybe we can convince him to part with one, and tonight's dinner will be more than just bread and water."

They began walking toward the wall, where a small lake shimmered under the sunlight. It wasn't very large but was enough to sustain a few fish. Sitting by the water's edge was a young man, his feet submerged in the water as fish swarmed around, nibbling on some kind of food he had scattered.

From a distance, Number 3 raised her hand and called out, "Hey, 6!"

The young man turned, revealing a tan complexion and soft features. His deep brown eyes exuded a quiet calm, and while he wasn't particularly tall—probably around 1.7 meters—there was an air of understated confidence about him.

As he stood up, brushing his hands against his pants, he waved back at Number 3 with a small smile.

When they reached him, Number 3 gestured toward Number 29. "This is the newest one—Number 29. Thought I'd introduce you before I head back to take care of the plants."

Number 6 extended his hand toward Number 29, his voice warm and friendly. "Nice to meet you, 29. Welcome to... whatever this place is."

Number 3 placed a hand on 29's shoulder and added with a slight smirk, "You're in good hands. Number 6 is in charge of the fish. If you're lucky, he might even part with one for dinner tonight."

She stepped back, ready to leave. "I've got to check on the plants. You're with 6 for now. He'll fill you in."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Number 29 and Number 6 by the edge of the lake.

Number 6 sat down again, slipping his feet back into the water as the fish swarmed around him. Silence settled between them, heavy and awkward.

Feeling the tension, Number 29 shifted uneasily before finally speaking. "So… you take care of the fish?"

Number 6 glanced at him briefly, his expression calm but distant. "Yeah," he said simply.

When it became clear that Number 6 wasn't going to elaborate, Number 29 hesitated before asking, "Why you?"

After a long pause, Number 6 finally replied, his voice quiet but steady. "The lake and the fish were already here when I arrived. No one wanted to take care of them… so I did."

His answer was short and final, as if that was all there was to say. Number 29 nodded slowly, unsure of how to keep the conversation going. Number 6 didn't seem interested in talking, instead tossing small bits of food into the water and watching the fish with a focused intensity.

The silence returned, broken only by the gentle ripples in the lake.

Number 29 shifted slightly, trying to ease the silence. "Have you ever tried to remember your past?" he asked tentatively.

Number 6 didn't look at him at first, tossing another piece of food into the water. Finally, he replied, his voice low, "I tried. A lot, at first. But… every time, my head would hurt. Like it didn't want me to remember. So I stopped."

Number 29 frowned, sensing the weight behind his words. "Stopped?"

Number 6 nodded, still focused on the fish. "Yeah. What's the point? Thinking about what I can't change doesn't help "

The response left 29 unsettled, but he pressed on. "What's life like here?"

Number 6 shrugged, his tone flat. "There's not much to do. Not much to eat. Every day's the same. Feed the fish, hope for something better :

Number 6 turned his head slightly, finally meeting 29's gaze. "And you? What do you think your life here will be like?"

29 hesitated, glancing toward the towering walls of the labyrinth in the distance. "Hard," he admitted. "I don't want to think too far ahead, but… it doesn't look like the future is going to be promising."

Number 6 nodded slowly, as if he understood exactly what 29 meant. For a brief moment, there was a flicker of something—maybe empathy—in his expression. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, and he turned back to the fish, letting the silence settle over them once again.

The silence was broken by 6, his voice quiet but curious. "What about you? Have you tried to remember the past?"

29 hesitated, then sat down beside him, dipping his feet into the cold water. The chill shot through his body, but he tried to focus on the conversation.

"When I first woke up, I tried," he began, his tone distant. "All I could remember was my job. I taught at a well-known university. I think it was important to me." He paused, his gaze fixed on the water, watching its ripples. "The morning I woke up here, I was rushing. I was late. I remember grabbing my things, stepping out the door... and then, nothing. It was like someone turned off the lights."

6 tossed another handful of food into the water, watching the fish swarm. "No faces? No voices?"

"None," 29 admitted, a faint bitterness creeping into his voice. "Just... fragments. What I did. What I taught. But the people? The places? They're gone."

6 nodded slightly, his expression unreadable. "Sounds familiar."

For a while, neither spoke. The sound of the water and the occasional splash of a fish filled the silence. Finally, 29 broke the quiet.

"Do you think it'll ever come back?"

6 shook his head slightly. "I don't know. Maybe it doesn't matter."