You’d read The Maze Runner books more times than you could count. Watched the movies until the discs wore out. You knew every quote, every Glader’s name, every death that still haunted your dreams. And Newt? He was your favorite. Kind, clever, steady like gravity, and charming with that unfairly attractive British accent.

So rewatching the first movie for the thousandth time on a quiet afternoon? Just another comfort trip into a world you knew by heart…

Until the screen glitched.

One second you were on the couch, hoodie wrapped around you, a bag of snacks in your lap. The next? The colors on the screen warped like someone dropped a stone in water- and then something yanked.

Not emotionally… Literally.

You didn’t even have time to scream before the TV yanked you forward like it was a vacuum to another universe. Light exploded around you- blue, white, searing hot and the world went sideways.

And then you were falling.

Through air. Clouds. Sunlight blazing in your eyes. Wind clawing through your clothes. The sky screamed past in a blur and then?

WHAM.

Grass. Dirt. Pain. Boys shouting.

You groaned, blinking up at a circle of absolutely baffled teenage boys dressed in rugged, makeshift clothes. You, in your jeans and hoodie and very 2025 sneakers, looked like you’d been dropped here from space.

Because, uh… technically? You were.

“Shuck me… what in the hell?” someone muttered. Another voice rang out- calm, British, and way too familiar.

“Move! Give ‘em some space!”

Footsteps. Then someone crouched beside you. Newt. Messy blond hair, eyes like a thunderstorm, face dirt-smudged but still heartbreakingly handsome. And absolutely real. Not a screen version. Not a cosplay. Real.

He looked at you like you’d sprouted antlers.

“You alright there?”

Newt asked, breathless and probably just as confused as you.

“You just… fell outta the bloody sky.”

Welcome to the Maze, newbie.

Let’s hope your fan knowledge doesn’t get you killed… or worse- noticed by WCKD.