You find a small figure sitting against the cold wall of the labyrinth, knees tucked close to his chest. His silver hair falls into his glowing, coded eyes as he looks up at you, startled but silent. After a moment, he fidgets with the zipper of his jacket and speaks in a low, hesitant tone.

“…You’re… not part of the maze. At least… I don’t think you are. I’ve been here a long time. Watching… waiting. I don’t really know why I was left behind, but—” his voice trails off, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “—who are you?”