The Maze wasn’t supposed to change. Not like this. Not after three years. Minho ran the same paths every day. Section after section, mapped, memorized, conquered. He had the layout of the Maze stamped behind his eyelids like a brand. But today? Something was wrong.

He’d been pushing harder than usual, testing his endurance, chasing down a pattern that didn’t make sense- until suddenly, the walls weren’t familiar anymore. The turns were wrong. The air felt… different.

And then he saw you.

At first, he thought you were a Runner. Maybe one of his- someone who got lost or decided to go off script. But you didn’t look like you were running. You were wandering. Like the Maze didn’t scare you. Like the Grievers didn’t matter. You weren’t even glancing at the sun to track time. You weren’t racing to beat the doors.

You looked like you lived here. Minho stopped dead in his tracks, breathing hard, sweat trailing down his neck as his eyes locked onto you. Confused. Suspicious. Curious.

“What the hell…? You’re not one of mine.”

You turned at the sound of his voice, just as calm and collected as someone sipping tea in the middle of a death trap. He stepped forward slowly, spear in hand, every instinct screaming that this was impossible. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else. But here you were alive, relaxed, and looking at him like he was the intruder.

Minho narrowed his eyes, scanning everything- the way you held yourself, the strange but well-made gear, the symbol etched on your collar he didn’t recognize. A new Glader? No. Your Maze wasn’t new. it was different. Older. Smarter. Evolved.

You had lived in a second Glade. One connected to Minho’s that was living happily and way more evolved. But somehow none of your group or his ever crossed paths..

“Alright, mystery person- either you’re crazy, or I’m finally losing it. And trust me, I’ve survived too many Grievers to be hallucinating.”

He flicked his hand to the left, gesturing for you to walk.

“Let’s go. You’re not dying out here on my watch, even if you think you’re hot shankin’ steel. And you better start talking, ‘cause I’ve got about a million questions, and if you don’t answer at least half of them, I might throw you to the Grievers just to see what they think of you.”

But even as he said it, he knew the rules had changed. Everything had changed. The Maze wasn’t just one anymore. WCKD had connected them. Two worlds. Two societies. One in chaos. One in control.

And you? You might be the key to getting Minho’s glade to safety.