Disclaimer:

I do not own The Maze Runner, but these disclaimers are getting kind of sucky, so just pretend this one was really witty and funny.

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The room was packed with Gladers. After we had eaten most of the food and moved the giant pile elsewhere, we sat on the floor and waited for Rat Man to speak. It was almost as if we were toddlers, holding onto water bottles and juice boxes. In my own hands was a mug of hot chocolate. There had been one for every person, but most people had downed theirs despite the temperature of the liquid.

I wasn't sure how long we had been sitting there, but it was long enough for my back to grow stiff and my butt to hurt. I had changed sitting positions about ten times. Minho had just finished calling Thomas "one ugly shank", to which my brother pointed out that if he was ugly, so was I, because we looked somewhat the same. Minho then proceeded to tell Thomas he was the most handsome male he had ever seen. Newt looked like he wanted to shoot them both.

"Shut your bloody holes," Newt whispered, though it was more like a hiss. "I think it's time."

Well, he sure took his time, I thought as Rat Man put his feet on the floor and closed the book, tossing it carelessly on the desk. He rolled the chair backward and dug through the contents of a drawer. After nothing but silence on our part and the sound of his rummaging, the man produced a manila folder packed with papers arranged in an incredibly unorganized manner.

"Ah, here it is," Rat Man said, clearly pleased that he had actually found the thing. He opened the folder and laid it on the desk. "Thank you for gathering in an orderly manner so I can tell you what I've been...instructed to tell you. Please listen carefully."

"Why do you need that wall?" Minho shouted in reference to the invisible barrier between us and the man. If I had stepped any closer during our feud, I would've smacked right into something hard and stable that I couldn't see.

"Because he's a coward and is afraid that a bunch of teenagers will kill him," I muttered beneath my breath quietly enough that only Thomas managed to hear it. He snorted.

"Shut it!" Newt exclaimed as he reached around my brother and I and punched Minho in the arm, having only heard him and not me.

The man continued as if he hadn't heard or was just really good at ignoring us. "You're all still here because of an uncanny will to survive despite the odds, among...other reasons. About sixty people were sent to live in the Glade. Well, our Glade, anyway. Another sixty in Group B. But for now we'll forget them."

I felt my blood run cold as if I had swallowed a glass of iced water, or my blood had somehow frozen despite the regulated temperature of my body. I went completely rigid as Rat Man's eyes flickered to Aris, and then - so briefly that if I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't already known where I was supposed to belong - they landed on me before he turned back to the file.

"Out of all those people, only a fraction survived to be here today. I'm assuming you've figured this out by now, but many of the things that happened to you are solely for the purpose of judging and analyzing your responses. And it's not really an experiment as much as it is...constructing a blueprint. Stimulating the Killzone and collecting the resultant patterns. Putting them all together to achieve the greatest breakthrough in the history of science and medicine.

"These situations inflicted upon you are called the variables, and each one has been meticulously thought out. I'll explain more soon. And although I can't tell you everything at this time, it's vital that you know this much: these trials you're going through are for a very important cause. Continue to respond well to the variables, continue to survive, and you will be rewarded with the knowledge that you've played a part in saving the human race. And yourselves, of course."

Rat Man paused for dramatic effect. I rolled my eyes at the mumbo-jumbo coming out of his mouth.

"This dude's shucked in the dead," Minho grumbled. I couldn't agree more.

"I represent a group called W.I.C.K.E.D. I know it sounds menacing, but it stands for World In Catastrophe, Killzone Experiment Department." I mouthed the words to myself as he said them, and luckily nobody noticed. "Nothing menacing about it, despite what you may think. We exist for one purpose and one purpose only: to save the world from catastrophe. You here in this room or a vital part of what we plan to do. We have resources never known to any group of any kind in the history of civilization. Nearly unlimited money, unlimited human capital and technology advanced beyond even the most clever man's wants and wishes.

"As you make your way through the Trials, you have seen and will continue to see evidence of this technology and the resources behind it. If I can tell you anything today, it is that you should never, ever believe your eyes. Or your mind, for that matter. This is why we did the demonstration with the hanging bodies in the bricked-up windows. All I will say is that sometimes what you see is not real, and sometimes what you do not see is real. We can manipulate your brains and nerve receptacles when necessary. I know this all sounds confusing and a little scary, perhaps."

My breath was stolen from my lungs. "...you should never, ever believe your eyes. Or your mind, for that matter." What did that mean? That quote sent me in a frenzy of hidden panic. Did that mean that the memories in my brain weren't real? I had been clinging to the hope they brought like a koala would cling to a tree. What if I was holding onto memories that weren't even mine and had been made up by W.I.C.K.E.D? I was sure I would lose it if that was the case.

Rat Man's eyes scanned across the room. "The Maze was a part of the Trials. Not one Variable was thrown at you that didn't serve a purpose for a collection of killzone patterns. Your escape was part of the Trials. Your battle against the Grievers. The murder of the boy Chuck. The supposed rescue and subsequent trip in the bus. All of it. Part of the Trials."

Images flashed before my eyes- haunting, grotesque memories of death that I wished never to relive. I saw Garret wringing Theo out of the Griever's clutches and sacrificing himself so his best friend could live. I saw Max, digging his sword into a crack in the cement in an attempt to save himself. My fingers brushing his just before he was eaten alive. Chuck diving in front of my brother and me screaming as he died.

They had all died for nothing. They thought they were saving us, and Gally had been right all along- for the most part. He had tried to tell us just before the knife was thrown. What had he said? "They...can control me." They could control him. What if they had controlled Chuck as well?

I didn't realize it, but I was shaking all over. Trembles of my body caused bumps to rise on my bare arms where the short sleeves ended. Theo's hand was warm when he set it on the inside of my elbow, silently asking me if I was okay. I nodded. I lied.

Thomas had half risen to his feet before Newt pulled him back down. Both of their eyes were glassy- Newt's with sadness, and Thomas' with anger.

As if Thomas' undesired reaction had spurred him, Rat Man stood up from his chair so quickly that it slid back and hit the wall behind him. He placed his bony hands on the desk and leaned forward. "All of it has been a part of the Trials, you understand? Phase One, to be exact. And we are still dangerously short of what we need. So we've had to up the ante, and now it's time to begin Phase Two. It's time for things to get difficult."

Phase Two. The Maze wasn't the end. There was more. More horrors, more death, more unbearable Variables that pushed us to our limits and sometimes past them.

The room was silent.

Rat Man stood for two eternities before slowly easing back into his stupid chair. "You may think, or it may seem, that we are merely testing your ability to survive. On the surface, the Maze Trial could be mistakenly classified that way. But I assure you- this is not merely about survival and the will to live. That's only part of this experiment. The bigger picture is something you won't understand until the very end.

"Sun flares have ravaged many parts of the earth. Also, a disease unlike any before known to man has been ravaging the earth's people- a disease called the Flare. For the first time, the governments of all nations - the surviving ones - are working together. They've combined forces to create W.I.C.K.E.D - a group meant to fight the new problems of this world. You are a big part of that fight. And you will have every incentive to work with us, because, sad to say, each one of you has already caught the virus."

Once again, my blood froze in my veins. I felt tears in my eyes as I remembered my father, locked in the basement, his screams and laughter still audible from the entire house. His peeled skin. His bald head. His rotting teeth. I would become what he was; the thought alone was enough to make me want to scream as I had when I first found him.

As expected, a rumble of outrage started, and Rat Man held up his hands to stop it. "Now, now! No need to worry - the Flare takes a while to set in and show symptoms. But at the end of these Trials, the cure will be your reward, and you'll never see the...debilitating effects. Not many can afford to cure, you know.

"But enough of this history lesson and time-wasting. We know you now. All of you. It doesn't matter what I say or what's behind the mission of wicked. You all do whatever it takes. Of this we have no doubt. And by doing what we ask, you'll save yourselves by getting the very cure so many people desperately want."

Minho groaned from beside me.

Rat Man took a piece of paper from the stack of papers in the folder and turned it over, barely giving it a glance. It seemed the act was more for show; he'd had the contents memorized anyway. "Phase Two. The Scorch Trials. It officially begins tomorrow morning at six o'clock. You'll enter this room, and in the wall behind me you will find a Flat Trans. To your eyes the Flat Trans will appear as a shimmering wall of grey. Each of you must step through it by five minutes after the hour. So again, it opens at six o'clock and closes five minutes after that. Do you understand?"

I had no idea what a Flat Trans was. Either he had forgotten that he wiped our memories or just didn't care.

"I'm quite certain you can all hear," Rat Man said pointedly, looking at us through his thin-framed glasses. "Do...you...under...stand?"

A chorus of murmured yeahs and yeses rose up from our group. I rolled my eyes. What were we, five? He sure was acting like it.

"Good," he replied as he picked up another piece of paper. "At that point, the Scorch Trials will have begun. The rules are very simple. Find your way to the open air, then head due north for one hundred miles. Make it to the safe haven within two weeks' time and you'll have completed Phase Two. At that point, and only at that point, you'll be cured of the Flare. That's exactly two weeks - starting the second you step through the Trans. If you don't make it, eventually you'll end up dead."

The coldness was seeping through the rest of my body, making my hands clammy and my ears freezing. You'll end up dead.

Rat Man slammed the folder shut and put it back into the drawer from which he'd retrieved it. He stepped aside from the chair, folding his hands in front of him as he addressed us again.

"It's simple, really," he continued matter-of-factly as if he always told kids about their possible deaths. "There are no rules. There are no guidelines. You have few supplies, and there's nothing to help you along the way. Go through the Flat Trans at the time indicated. Find open air. Go one hundred miles, directly north, to the safe haven. Make it or die."

Yeah, totally simple. What could possibly go wrong?

Finally, questions erupted from the Gladers in sync. Voices blended together until nothing intelligible could be heard, only a mix of frenzied voices which volume rose higher and higher.

"You shanks shut up!" Minho shouted over the noise. Everyone stopped instantly. "This shuck-face ain't answering, so quit wastin' your time."

Rat Man nodded as if thanking him. "One hundred miles. North. Hope you make it. Remember- you all have the Flare now. We gave it to you to provide any incentive you may be lacking. And reaching the safe haven means receiving a cure." He turned toward the wall as if he planned to walk right through it, but then he stopped and turned around one last time.

"Ah, one last thing," he said. "Don't think you'll avoid the Scorch Trials if you decide not to enter the Flat Trans between six and six-oh-five tomorrow morning. Those who stay will be executed immediately in a most...unpleasant manner. Better off taking your chances in the outside world. Good luck to all of you."

He faced the wall once again and took several steps toward it. But before I could see if he completely smacked into it or not — I hoped he did — the invisible wall fogged up like the mirrors in the bathrooms after a shower. And then the whole thing completely vanished and the other side of the common area was revealed. Empty.

gif is dylan listening to rat man with her mug of cocoa

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these chapters are so boring to write and probably boring to read so i apologize for that. unless you've only seen the movies, most of this info is all stuff you know and i don't blame you if you skipped through the whole thing

questions:

-do you think dylan is immune?

-will she have a connection with group b?

-if you could travel via flat trans only twice - to your destination and back - where would you go?

-newtmas or thominho?

merry early christmas and, if i don't post another chapter before 2016 (but i probably will), happy early new year as well!

+dedication: lostinthejungle because she's really sweet and you guys should read her new story!

-kristyn