Scene: It started with Winston.
He went to check the Maze perimeter. Never came back.
Then Jeff. Then Clint.
Each time, the Gladers searched. Each time, they found nothing—until the third night, when Jeff returned.
He was smiling.
Too wide.
His eyes were black around the edges. His voice had a strange echo, like two people speaking at once.
Y/N watched from the garden, clutching the journal. "It's spreading."
Newt nodded, jaw tight. "It's choosing them."
Minho tried to confront Jeff. Jeff whispered, "She's almost ready."
Y/N froze. "Me?"
Newt pulled her close. "No. It's trying to break you."
The next night, Clint returned—laughing to himself, drawing symbols in the dirt. Frypan found him whispering to the doll, which had somehow reappeared in the shed.
Y/N's visions grew stronger. She saw Donna again. Saw the rituals. Saw the moment the doll was created—not gifted, but cursed.
Newt began hearing whispers again. "She belongs to me."
They gathered the remaining Gladers. Drew protective symbols. Lit lanterns. But the Maze pulsed with something ancient. Something hungry.
Y/N stood in the center, journal open, voice steady. "You don't get to take us."
The possessed Gladers screamed. The doll cracked. The air shifted.
And silence returned.
But Newt knew it wasn't over.
Newt's Reaction (retelling the moment):
"They vanished. Came back wrong. And every time, the Maze felt colder."
"Y/N stood in the center of it all—facing the darkness, refusing to break."
"And I stayed beside her. Because if this thing wants to take her, it'll have to go through me first."
