Black Strings: Threads of Revenge

Swords and Acid

Tommy chuckles.

"Since you're so knowledgeable, Tommy. Who built the Maze Jails? Old Order or Spirit Council?"

"Old Order. A king and his council who couldn't rule properly because of distance."

"Sounds familiar."

"And now the Spirit Council can't govern because the leader is stuck in his ways and can't see or accept the change that's happening."

"Still sounds familiar." Benjamin shrugs. "I don't know why, just does. You pay attention to spirit politics?"

Tommy nods his head from side to side a couple times. "Just enough to have my own opinions. I say we need a Black Spirit Revolution part two."

Benjaim raises his eyebrows. "Bold. What a statement."

"I'd almost say it's been a long time coming."

At that, Benjamin scoffs.

"I doubt that's what they'd call it, though."

Tommy stops, ears twitching slightly.

Benjamin halts beside him. "What is it?"

Tommy raises a hand for silence. A soft click echoes through the air, too faint for anyone else to notice.

"...There's a pressure trigger just ahead. Floor tile's loose."

Benjamin frowns. "You're telling me you heard that?"

"I'm telling you not to step forward."

Carefully, Tommy crouches, tapping a tile with a gloved finger. The faintest give. He pulls a coin from his pocket and drops it onto the center of the tile.

THWIP-THWIP-THWIP-CLANG.

Blades shoot from the walls, slashing across where they would've been. Benjamin stares.

"Yeah," Tommy says. "Maze Jails like to pretend they're empty. But they're always listening."

Benjamin exhales, wide-eyed. "Great. It's one of those buildings."

Tommy steps around the tile, motioning for Benjamin to follow. "Stay close. Some traps reset."

As they round the next corridor, the lights flicker overhead. A low hum buzzes through the walls-not mechanical... magical. Tommy pauses again.

"I hear whispering."

Benjamin tilts his head. "What kind of whispering?"

"The kind that doesn't stop when you plug your ears."

The air thickens. The corridor ahead ripples like heat haze, and Tommy's expression sharpens.

"Memory field," he says grimly.

"Wait-like, illusions? Or...?"

"Worse. If we step wrong, we could relive our worst moments. Loop until we lose track of time."

Benjamin stiffens. "And you just know that by sound?"

"I read about the things," Tommy says. "I read about the things that can happen in Maze Jails."

"So the danger isn't new to you," Benjamin says. What's worded like a question sounds like a statement in tone.

"I still don't want to relive the worst parts of my past." Tommy breaths, a shudder rippling up his spine.

Swiftly, Tommy grabs Benjamin's wrist and the two teleport to the other side of the trap.

Benjamin looks behind, then forward. "We can't teleport within the walls of the Maze Jail. How did you just do that? Teleportation is magic."