IT STARTED WITH A MAZE - Newt x Reader (F)

- LEAP OF FAITH -

"Shit- through here!!" I yell, catching a glint of steel and a door handle to the left. I barrel toward it, shoulder lowered, praying it's not locked. It gives way under my weight. A shot cracks behind me. Sparks erupt against the wall, lighting the corridor in a flash of electric orange. I don't wait I dive through the doorway and yell, "MOVE!" as Thomas and Minho follow, forcing Newt along with them. The door slams shut just as another bullet hits the metal frame. I twist the lock into place with a shaky hand, breathing hard. "Anyone hit?!" I ask, chest rising and falling like I've just run a marathon.

"No!"

"I'm good!"

"All clear!"

Their voices echo in the tight space - some kind of abandoned medical storage room, full of toppled carts and overturned metal trays.

On the other side of the door, Janson crashes into it with the force of a bull, making the whole frame tremble.

"Move stuff!" Minho is already dragging a steel table across the floor, shoving it against the door with a grunt. Thomas helps, stacking trays and debris in front of it. Newt grabs a tall supply cabinet and leans it diagonally against the frame, bracing it with a chair wedged underneath.

Then there's a second of silence.

A lull.

Minho's chest is heaving, his hands braced on the table he just shoved. But I don't care that there are probably ten men on the other side trying to figure out how to break the door down. I don't care that alarms are still wailing above us, or that time is running out. Right now, all I care about is him.

I grab Minho by the sleeve and yank him toward me. "I know we don't have time," I say, voice tight, "but holy shit - I'm glad you're alive." And I wrap my arms around him again. Not the same kind of hug as before - this one's harder, faster. Full of panic, relief, every emotion crashing together. I press my forehead to his shoulder, grounding myself.

He breathes heavy against me. But he hugs me back without hesitation. "You too, Speedy," he says. His voice is lower, steadier than it was before. I hold on a second longer, anchoring myself in that truth. He's here. He's alive. Against every odd and every awful thing we've all survived, Minho's back with us.

But the moment doesn't get to last.

"Sorry, guys, but we've gotta figure out how to get out of here," Thomas says. His voice cuts through the quiet, slicing off the warmth of the reunion like a blade. It's not cruel. Just real. There's no time anymore - not in this place.

We're all in the middle of the room, hearts still racing, sweat cooling on our skin. The air smells of metal and burned circuits and fear. The tables and equipment we stacked against the door rattle under pressure. It won't hold forever.

We glance around the space, desperate. There's only the one door - no back exit, no vents wide enough to crawl through. No magic escape hatch. "We have to assume they're gonna bloody blow it open," Newt says, his voice low, grim.

He's right.

I step toward the far side of the room, trying to speak, to say something useful- "We-" is all that comes out when a harsh mechanical whirring shatters the tension.

We whip around to the door.

Sparks scream to life as a blinding white blade begins slicing into the steel. Hot, molten edges drip down. They're cutting through it. Clean. Fast. No hesitation.

We thought we had more time.

"Any ideas!?" Thomas shouts, spinning on his heel, wide-eyed.

The fear rises like a tide in my chest, but I don't let it crash yet. I run to the narrow window embedded in the wall. It's barely big enough to squeeze through. But the glass - thick and old - still looks breakable.