Isaac sighed and glanced around the room. Among the crowd, he spotted a familiar figure from the first exam—a boy with a violet soul. He stood out among the others. His hair was curly, one side brown, the other white, and paired with violet eyes, it gave him a unique appearance. Beneath each eye was a small mole, and his outfit was completed with a striking red scarf that seemed utterly out of place in the sweltering summer heat.

  The boy sat in the corner, arms crossed, as if waiting for something. Isaac decided to approach him.

  "Hey. We were in the same room for the first exam, right? Congrats—top score," he said with a small smile, trying to strike up a conversation.

  The young man raised his gaze, a hint of an ironic smile appearing on his face.

  "Well, well. I didn’t expect someone from the illustrious Pilsudski family to speak to me," he said, his tone cool but tinged with curiosity.

  Isaac frowned, confused.

  "Illustrious family? What are you talking about?"

  The boy chuckled softly, his violet eyes gleaming in the light.

  "Don’t play dumb. Your family name is well-known among the Awakened. Your father was one of the most powerful generals. And now you, his heir, are entering the game."

  Isaac felt a strange stir within him. His father rarely spoke of his past, let alone his position among the Awakened. Before he could respond, the boy continued:

  "I saw you copying my technique during the exam. Clever, though not very original."

  Pilsudski’s cheeks flushed slightly.

  "Copying?" he scoffed, trying to mask his embarrassment. "I was just inspired."

  The violet-eyed boy raised an eyebrow, his smile growing more mischievous.

  "Of course. Call it what you like. But let’s be honest—you wouldn’t have passed without my help."

  Isaac clenched his fists but took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure.

  "Maybe I was inspired, but I did the work. If you were in my position, you’d probably do the same."

  The boy studied him for a moment, then shrugged.

  "Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. The exam is just the beginning. I’m curious to see if you live up to your family name or end up like the rest of the mediocrities."

  "We’ll see about that," Isaac replied with determination, meeting the boy’s violet eyes.

  The young man’s grin widened.

  "I hope so. It’d be boring if you disappointed me."

  Isaac didn’t respond. He felt like this conversation was a game where every word carried more weight than it seemed. But one thing was certain—this interaction had only motivated him further.

  Suddenly, a loud chime echoed through the room, signaling the start of the next stage of the exam.

  Participants of the second stage of the exam gathered in a massive hall that resembled an arena. At the center of the room hovered a translucent device, pulsing softly with light and casting rainbow reflections on the walls. One of the examiners, dressed in a dark suit, stepped onto a raised platform. His voice cut through the murmur of the crowd:

  "Welcome to the second stage of the exam. You will be divided into teams of three. Your task is to navigate a labyrinth in virtual reality. Each of you will have your consciousness transferred into the simulation. There, you’ll face traps, enemies, and other challenges. Remember, only the first four teams to complete the labyrinth will advance. Now, without further ado, I will begin announcing the teams:

  "Team 1: Numbers 8, 24, and 119, room 23… Team 2…"

  Isaac felt his heart race. "Teams of three?" he thought, glancing nervously at the crowd. He had no idea who would end up in his group, which only added to the tension. Many participants had been eliminated in the first exam, leaving only 24 teams for the second stage.

  "Team 24: Numbers 3, 74, and 647, room 58. That’s all the teams. Please proceed to your assigned rooms."

  "Well, that answers that," Isaac thought, scanning the faces of his teammates as they were called. The first was a boy with a scarf, which he adjusted nonchalantly. The number 3 was stuck to his shirt.

  "Looks like we’re stuck with each other," the boy said, raising an eyebrow. "Name’s Cornelius."

  Isaac furrowed his brow, trying to gauge his tone.

  "You already know my name, so I won’t bother introducing myself," he replied, raising one eyebrow in return.

  "Let’s hope you don’t drag the team down," Cornelius shot back with a hint of irritation. "Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Guess I’m just unlucky," he added, glancing at an elderly man approaching with the number 74 on his chest.

  Before Isaac could reply, the older man joined them. His face was etched with wrinkles, and his eyes carried an enigmatic blend of experience and cunning. He smiled warmly, extending a hand to Isaac.

  "Vitold. Nice to meet you, young man. I hope we can work well together."

  Isaac shook his hand, though his instincts warned him this man might be more complex than he seemed.

  "Sure. Let’s see how it goes," he replied, keeping his tone polite.

  "Looks like it’s time to head to our room," Cornelius said, glancing between them. "Let the games begin."

  Vitold nodded.

  "Let’s hope we have enough time to learn to work together. Labyrinths… can be tricky."

  "Let’s just get this started," Isaac thought, a mix of excitement and unease brewing within him.

  Moments later, the team reached room 58. They stepped into translucent pods, which closed with a faint hiss. The world around them began to blur, and their consciousnesses were transferred into a new reality.

  When Isaac opened his eyes, he found himself in a dark labyrinth built from black stone. The walls glowed faintly green, resembling phosphorescent algae. The air was heavy, saturated with moisture and an oppressive tension. In the distance, he could hear heavy footsteps and a low, guttural roar.

  "This is… strange," Isaac murmured, glancing at his arm. To his surprise, his wound was gone, and his body appeared completely healed.

  Cornelius, standing nearby, crossed his arms over his chest.

  "This is virtual reality. Your body doesn’t exist here physically, so you don’t have wounds. But if you get hurt in the simulator, you’ll feel the pain. I don’t think I need to spell that out for you, do I?"

  Isaac sighed, rolling his eyes.

  "Thanks for the lecture, genius."

  The older man studied their surroundings carefully, examining the walls and floor.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Virtual or not, we need to stay cautious. Labyrinths have a way of surprising you."

  Suddenly, the footsteps they had heard earlier began to draw closer. The three of them quickly hid behind a wall.

  "Minotaur," Cornelius whispered, pointing to one of the tendrils of mist snaking across the ground.

  Vitold glanced at him with a faint smile.

  "Good to have someone who can analyze the situation. Tell me, young man, which way should we go?"

  Cornelius inspected the walls and floor.

  "First, we need to find the map. Fragments of it are hidden somewhere in this labyrinth. Unfortunately, we also have to avoid the Minotaur. If it catches us, it’s game over."

  "Sounds like a plan. Let’s go," Isaac said, impressed.

  Within minutes, they encountered their first trap—a narrow corridor with a floor that began collapsing as soon as they stepped on it. Cornelius stopped just in time, grabbing Isaac’s arm before he fell into the gaping chasm below.

  "Be more careful," Cornelius snapped. "I’m not going to save you every five seconds."

  The younger boy examined the corridor carefully, then balanced on the edges of the tiles that seemed stable, making his way across. Once safe, he turned back and called out:

  "Your turn. It’s not that hard."

  Isaac glanced at Vitold, who clutched his lower back and looked at him with a pleading expression. Deciding he had no other choice, Isaac hoisted the older man onto his back and carefully followed Cornelius’s path. Finally, all three of them reached the other side.

  The sight clearly annoyed Cornelius, who wasn’t about to hold his tongue.

  "Do you have extra chromosomes or something?" he asked, glaring at Isaac. "Why are you letting this old guy use you? He’s Awakened too; he should handle the obstacles himself."

  "Just shut it already. I helped him because I felt like it," Isaac retorted, irritation creeping into his voice.

  Cornelius decided not to push the matter further and walked ahead. Meanwhile, Vitold turned to Isaac with a grateful smile.

  "Thank you, young man. This exam is truly challenging."

  "No problem, old-timer," Isaac replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. "But why are you even taking such a dangerous exam?"

  The older man looked up thoughtfully before answering.

  "You see, I’ve always wanted to join the special forces. Unfortunately, I couldn’t awaken my powers when I was younger. It only happened recently, and I decided it’s never too late to chase your dreams."

  Isaac didn’t want to show that he was moved by the story, so he turned away and added,

  "I’ll help you pass this exam."

  The older man’s face lit up with a warm smile as he thanked him, and they both followed Cornelius. By the time they caught up, Cornelius had already secured a fragment of the labyrinth map.

  Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed in the distance. The Minotaur was closing in. The team bolted, but in the chaos, Isaac was separated from the group and found himself alone in the labyrinth. Everything around him looked identical, and the oppressive atmosphere amplified his sense of disorientation.

  In the distance, he saw a human figure. Curious, he followed it. As he approached, the person turned around, revealing a face that left Isaac speechless. It was his father, Anthony Pilsudski.

  The father looked almost identical to how he had been in life, except for the horrifying hole in his chest—a chilling reminder of Isaac’s recurring dream. He stood frozen, paralyzed by the sight. His rational mind screamed that it had to be an illusion, but the figure’s uncanny realism made it hard to ignore.

  Anthony drew a sword and lunged at his son. Isaac barely managed to dodge, but the blade nicked him. The virtual system displayed a message: “Candidate No. 647: -15 HP.” A jarring vibration coursed through Isaac’s body, and he realized he had stepped on a trap-activating tile. Any movement would set it off.

  His father struck again, forcing Isaac into frantic, stationary dodges. Each swing of the sword grew faster, each movement more relentless, pushing Isaac to the brink of desperation. His heart pounded wildly, sweat streamed down his face, and the blade’s edge grazed his clothes repeatedly, leaving faint marks.

  "I can’t keep this up," Isaac thought as his legs began to tremble. Seeing no way out, he made a split-second decision. “Screw this!” he muttered internally, leaping off the tile.

  A mechanical sound rang out as the trap activated. The walls around him fired an array of sharp arrows that sliced through the air with terrifying precision. One arrow embedded itself deeply in his side, sending waves of searing pain through his body.

  “Candidate No. 647: -50 HP,” the system’s cold voice announced.

  Doubling over, clutching his side, Isaac didn’t have time to catch his breath. His father, undeterred by the activated trap, walked through the storm of arrows as if they didn’t exist. The illusion showed no signs of stopping. Limping, Isaac backed away, only to find himself cornered in a dead-end corridor.

  "Great, this is it," he thought, watching as the illusion of his father raised his sword for the final blow. Something inside Isaac snapped. He couldn’t let it end here.

  Pulling the arrow from his side, Isaac hurled it at his father, aiming for the leg. It struck perfectly. The illusion faltered for a brief moment, giving Isaac the opening he needed. He lunged at the figure, using all his strength to shove it backward.

  Anthony was faster. Blocking Isaac’s attack, he countered with a swing that cut through the air just inches from Isaac’s shoulder. The boy leapt back, using the narrow corridor to his advantage to evade further strikes. The illusion seemed invincible, each move precise, as though it could anticipate Isaac’s every action.

  "I have to outsmart him," Isaac thought, focusing intently on his opponent. Suddenly, he noticed a flaw—his father always launched full-force attacks, leaving his left side exposed. A plan began to form in Isaac’s mind.

  As Anthony swung his sword again, Isaac made a deliberately clumsy dodge, tricking the illusion into thinking it had him. At the last second, he dove under the blade, driving his knee into his father’s abdomen. The illusion staggered, and Isaac seized the moment to grab its arm and throw it to the ground.

  Wasting no time, Isaac lunged for the sword that had fallen during their struggle and struck a decisive blow to his father’s chest. The illusion shattered into thousands of shimmering fragments that floated upward and disappeared.

  Isaac collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. His side throbbed with pain, and his breathing came in heavy, ragged bursts. Relief was short-lived, however, as he heard the sound of hooves behind him.

  Turning, he saw the Minotaur towering over him, its massive frame filling the corridor. The beast’s glowing eyes bore into him. “This is the end,” he thought, resigned.

  Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through his despair.

  “Don’t just stand there, or you’ll get stomped!” Cornelius burst into the corridor, distracting the Minotaur with a flash of spiritual energy.

  Candidate No. 3 entered the scene with a calmness that starkly contrasted the chaos. His voice was cool and measured as he explained to Isaac that each defeated trap and obstacle weakened the Minotaur’s defenses. He also mentioned sending Vitold to handle the labyrinth’s final challenge.

  Annoyance flickered in Isaac’s mind at the thought of leaving the older teammate alone, but he quickly realized it was a calculated decision. Vitold, despite appearances, had more strength and experience than expected. With the team’s combined efforts, defeating the beast now seemed possible.

  The battle with the Minotaur was a brutal test of endurance and teamwork. The towering creature, over three meters tall, swung its colossal axe, shattering the labyrinth’s stone walls. Cornelius, maintaining a steady composure, analyzed the Minotaur’s movements and predicted its attacks, while Isaac focused on diverting its attention.

  “We need to find its weak spot,” Cornelius called out, dodging another strike. “Go for the legs! Slow it down!”

  Though exhausted, Isaac heeded the advice. He slid under the creature’s legs and drove the arrow he’d pulled from his side into the tendon of its left calf. The Minotaur roared in pain, its movements noticeably slower. But it wasn’t enough. The beast swung its axe in a frenzy, narrowly missing Cornelius, who barely managed to dodge.

  “We’re running out of time!” Cornelius shouted, glancing at Isaac. “If this takes any longer, we’re done for.”

  Determined, Isaac steeled himself. Remembering Philip’s lessons about sensing energy and focusing, he resolved to act decisively. As the Minotaur prepared another attack, Isaac spotted a small crack in the armor on its chest.

  “Cornelius! There, in the center of its chest!” he yelled, pointing at the weak spot.

  Cornelius nodded, channeling his spiritual energy for a concentrated attack. The blast struck the target dead on, causing the Minotaur to falter and drop to one knee. This was the opening they needed.

  Out of nowhere, Vitold appeared. Despite his seemingly unassuming demeanor, he radiated determination. Holding a wooden staff imbued with his spiritual energy, he looked at Cornelius and Isaac.

  “You’ve done well, boys. Let’s finish this together,” he said firmly yet calmly.

  With precision and unity, Vitold climbed onto the Minotaur’s back, driving his weapon into its neck, while Cornelius and Isaac delivered simultaneous blows to its chest and legs. The creature let out a deafening roar before its body dissolved into mist, leaving behind the final fragment of the map.

  Victory was theirs. The three teammates exchanged glances, a mix of relief and exhaustion on their faces. Collecting the map piece, they headed toward the exit. They had completed the labyrinth as the second team.

  Cornelius wasn’t pleased.

  “Second place? Didn’t see that coming,” he remarked coldly, though his glance at Isaac carried a different message. “You’ve got something interesting about you. I’ll be watching.”

  Isaac managed a faint smile, despite his fatigue and pain. He didn’t know what awaited him in the next stage, but one thing was certain—the team had made it through.

  As they left the virtual world, all their exhaustion vanished. Isaac had almost forgotten about his real-world injury until the sharp pain reminded him the moment they returned.

  On the screen, a message displayed: Teams Advancing: 5, 24, 8, 11.