Miles gripped Kayla's wrist, steadying her as she stumbled to her feet. She was lighter than he expected—fragile almost—but there was something stubborn burning behind her eyes.
He liked that. Fragility didn't survive long in places like this.
The two of them stood in the center of the room, both breathing hard, both trying to figure out their next move.
Miles checked the surroundings. No new countdown, no fresh set of mechanical traps waiting to slice them in half. But he didn't trust the quiet. He trusted nothing in here. Least of all silence.
"Can you walk?" he asked, voice low.
Kayla nodded, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. "Yeah. I think so."
Miles didn't waste time. He pointed to the heavy iron door at the far side of the room — it had opened sometime during the chaos. "We move fast. We don't ask questions unless we have to."
Kayla swallowed, nodded again.
The two of them slipped through the door into the next corridor — a narrow, twisting passage that seemed to press in on them the deeper they went. The air here was different. Hotter. Sharp with the scent of something burning.
Kayla shivered beside him. "What is this place?"
Miles didn't answer. Partly because he didn't know. Partly because he didn't want to waste words on things that didn't matter right now.
They moved.
The hallway sloped downward, spiraling slowly into deeper darkness. Every few feet, a new patch of wall bore marks—scratches, fingerprints, dried streaks of blood. Sometimes whole words carved into the stone:
HELP.
NO ESCAPE.
LIAR.
Kayla stopped at one point, staring at a handprint smeared along the wall. It was small. Child-sized.
Miles touched her shoulder, firm but not unkind. "Don't look too long. That's how they get inside your head."
She flinched, but nodded again.
At last, they reached a heavy steel door. A panel next to it blinked in a soft, almost welcoming green light.
Miles didn't trust it for a second.
But there was nowhere else to go.
He pressed his hand against the panel. The door shuddered, then creaked open.
The room beyond was massive — a cavernous space with scorched black walls, the floor littered with ashes and charred bone. The ceiling disappeared into shadows.
In the center stood a strange contraption: a massive iron cage, like a birdcage designed for monsters instead of songbirds. Inside it... something shifted.
Not a person.
Not quite.
Kayla gripped his arm. "Miles..."
He tensed, raising his gun automatically. "Stay behind me."
The thing in the cage staggered into the light.
It had once been human — that much was clear. But now, its body was twisted, burned black in places, other parts raw and pink like fresh wounds. It limped forward, hands dragging along the bars, leaving greasy smears.
Its face was almost featureless. Eyes burned shut. Mouth sewn into a grotesque grin.
Kayla gagged and turned away.
From speakers hidden somewhere above, the voice returned, cheerful as a game show host:
"Welcome to the Ash Garden, Detective Rennick. And welcome, too, to your plus-one. She'll make things... interesting."
The iron cage jolted suddenly, the thing inside shrieking, a raw and inhuman sound.
Miles aimed his pistol at the cage. "What's the game?"
The voice chuckled.
"Simple. Tell me, Detective... would you die for her?"
Above the cage, a lever appeared, suspended by chains from the ceiling. It swung lazily back and forth, out of easy reach.
The voice purred:
"Pull the lever, and she walks free."
"Refuse... and she stays. You both stay. Forever."
Kayla's breathing hitched. "Miles... no. You don't even know me."
He didn't look at her.
He kept his eyes locked on the creature in the cage, which was rattling the bars now, foam spilling from its sewn mouth.
Miles knew a bluff when he saw one.
He also knew a death trap.
"This place doesn't give you real choices," he muttered.
Kayla grabbed his sleeve, urgent. "Don't. It's what they want."
The voice above chuckled again, full of teeth.
"Oh, don't worry, Kayla. It's not just Miles we're testing today."
Another spotlight blazed to life, revealing a second lever — this one on the opposite side of the room. Smaller. Shinier. Lower to the ground.
"Kayla. If you pull yours, you walk free. Alone. Leave him behind."
The room filled with silence.
Real silence.
Kayla turned, eyes huge.
"I—I can't," she stammered.
Miles kept his voice even. "Think. Fast."
She shook her head, trembling. "I'm not like them. I'm not a coward."
The creature inside the cage slammed itself against the bars, howling.
The floor shuddered.
Miles eyed the bigger lever — still too far to grab without getting dangerously close to the cage.
Kayla looked at the smaller one across the room — a desperate, lonely gleam to it.
And the clock appeared.
01:00.
Miles cursed under his breath. Another damn clock.
He took a step toward the big lever.
Kayla froze, staring at the small one, tears brimming in her eyes.
The creature shrieked again.
The clock ticked down.
00:45.
"Trust me," Miles said quietly.
Kayla flinched. "Why should I?"
"You shouldn't. You just have to decide what kind of person you are."
Her face twisted. She squeezed her eyes shut. Then opened them again.
Miles moved fast.
He sprinted toward the big lever, weaving around the trembling cage as the creature inside clawed for him, missing by inches.
He lunged upward, caught the lever, and yanked hard.
The room exploded with mechanical noise — gears grinding, locks disengaging.
The cage cracked open.
The creature howled in rage, dragging itself toward him.
But before it could reach him, massive chains shot from the ceiling, dragging it backward into the dark.
Gone.
The clock hit 00:02.
The smaller lever across the room folded back into the floor.
Kayla stood frozen, her hands trembling at her sides.
Miles dropped to one knee, panting.
The voice came again, softer now, almost approving:
"Not everyone chooses sacrifice, Detective. Consider this your first real victory."
The door at the far end of the room swung open slowly.
Without waiting, Miles grabbed Kayla's hand and pulled her after him.
No words.
None were needed.
But deep down, he knew the worst was yet to come.
The game wasn't over.
Not even close.
And some victories came with a cost you didn't see until it was far too late.