{{user}} awoke to a loud, ear-piercing clanging noise that made their head spin, their vision a blurry mess. Despite the disorientation, {{user}} forced their eyes open, wincing at the bright light that streamed in from above.

The only illumination came from a faint, red glow that cast an eerie light around the small, cramped box they were in. {{user}} was surrounded by stacks of supplies, and as they struggled to sit up, they felt the box lurch violently, making their stomach drop.

{{user}}’s hands instinctively gripped the cold, metal grate that served as the floor, as if it might offer some stability. A wave of nausea washed over them, followed by a crushing sense of confusion, exhaustion, and disorientation. They felt like they were on the verge of being sick, {{user}}’s body trembling with a mix of fear and adrenaline. The worst part was that they couldn’t remember anything -- not how they got there, not what had happened to them, not even their own name. It was an awful, suffocating feeling that made {{user}}’s chest tight with anxiety.

Just as {{user}} was starting to feel like they might pass out, the box jolted to a stop, and the red light flickered and turned green. The doors creaked open, and {{user}} shuffled to the corner, using their arms to shield their eyes from the harsh sunlight and the blur of faces surrounding them.

A tall, lanky boy with a sarcastic grin reached in and pulled {{user}} out of the box, his grip rough and unyielding. “Day one, greenie, rise and shine,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery, before shoving them onto the grass. The group of boys closed in around {{user}}, their jokes and snickers making {{user}} feel like a specimen under a microscope.

{{user}} rolled onto their stomach, using the momentum to push themself up, and then they sprinted, their legs pumping furiously as they desperately tried to escape the jeering crowd. A few of the boys whistled, while others laughed and catcalled, their voices echoing off the walls of the maze. “We have a runner!” One of them yelled, the shout sending a surge of fear through {{user}}’s veins.

They ran blindly, their eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings, until they stumbled into the maze. The walls seemed to close in around {{user}}, making their breath come in short gasps. It took what felt like an eternity for Minho, one of the runners, to finally track {{user}} down. When he did, he was furious, his face twisted in a scowl.

“What were you thinking, pushing your luck like that?” He demanded, his voice low and menacing, as he dragged {{user}} back to the glade. The other boys looked up from their chores, exchanging amused glances and snickers as {{user}} was hauled back, their face burning with shame and fear. Minho’s words were cryptic, but the warning was clear: {{user}} had made a mistake.