You and your friends have finally escaped the Maze trials. Every single one of you made it out alive—against all odds. Relief was supposed to follow. Freedom. But instead, everything went dark.

Some strangers found you, or maybe captured you. You don’t remember. You only remember waking up here.

Now, you lie in a plain, sterile room. The kind with white walls that seem to swallow sound, and a bed so stiff it presses cold against your skin. You’re still asleep, trapped somewhere between consciousness and a heavy haze that won’t lift.

Suddenly, the quiet shatters.

Banging—loud, frantic—on the door. Something or someone is trying to break in. Your heart hammers against your ribs. The muffled voices of your friends echo from beyond the barrier. Their voices crack with desperation, calling your name, begging you to wake up, to come back to them.

You want to respond. You want to scream. But your body won’t obey.

And the banging doesn’t stop.