The Glade is quiet except for the sound of rustling leaves and murmured voices as the group huddles around Alby’s bed. Sweat beads on his forehead, and his breaths come in short, ragged gasps. Newt stands beside the bed, jaw clenched as he watches Katherine and Thomas exchange a worried look. Alby’s skin is pale, almost gray, a stark contrast to the angry red and black streaks that snake up his veins from the infected wound.

Newt breaks the tense silence. “We don’t even know what this stuff is,” he says, his voice low but urgent as his gaze flickers to the serum in Katherine’s hands. “We don’t know who sent it or why it came up here with you. For all we know, this thing could kill him.”

Katherine takes a step forward, a fiery determination lighting her eyes. “He’s already dying,” she counters, her tone steady but laced with desperation. “Look at him.”

Newt’s gaze shifts back to Alby, lying motionless except for the faint rise and fall of his chest. He hesitates, then meets Katherine’s eyes. “How could this possibly make it any worse?” he mutters, mostly to himself.

Thomas steps in, his voice breaking the heavy quiet. “Kat’s right. It’s worth a try. We don’t have any other options.” His hands shake as he reaches for the syringe. He can’t quite hide the tremor in his fingers.

Newt takes a breath, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. “All right,” he says, his voice firm. “Do it.” He hands the syringe to Thomas, his fingers lingering for a moment as if second-guessing himself. “Just… be careful.”

Thomas nods, swallowing hard. He positions the syringe above Alby’s chest, gripping it tightly. For a moment, everything feels suspended, the whole Glade holding its breath.

Then, without warning, Alby jerks upright, a guttural scream ripping from his throat. He grabs Thomas by the arms, his eyes wild, voice strained and broken. “You shouldn’t be here! You shouldn’t be here!”

Katherine’s heart leaps to her throat as she and Newt lunge forward, pulling Alby’s hands off Thomas’s neck. Alby thrashes violently, eyes wide with a terror that seems to pierce through to his soul. Before they can restrain him, Teresa steps in swiftly, plunging the syringe deep into Alby’s chest. The effect is almost immediate; Alby’s body goes limp, collapsing back onto the bed, his breathing slowing into a heavy, uneven rhythm.

The room falls into a tense silence, the echo of Alby’s screams fading. “Well, that worked,” Jeff mumbles, his voice breaking the quiet with a hint of disbelief.

Newt runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm the frantic beat of his heart. “All right,” he says, his voice steady but strained. “From now on, someone stays here and watches him. No one leaves him alone.”

The door creaks open, and Gally steps in, his usual scowl set deep on his face. “Hey. Sundown, Greenie,” he grunts, jerking his head towards the door. “Time to go.”

Katherine lets out a breath, rolling her eyes as she punches Thomas playfully on the arm. “Try not to turn into a Griever and eat Gally on your way to the pit.”

Thomas forces a grin, the weight of the past few minutes still pressing on him. “Can’t make any promises,” he jokes weakly, shooting Katherine a grateful look before following Gally out.

Later, the dim light filters through Newt’s small window as he and Katherine stumble into his room. The exhaustion hangs heavy in the air, and Katherine collapses onto the bed with a sigh. Her muscles ache from the strain of the day, and for a moment, she just lets herself sink into the mattress.

“Quite a day, huh?” Newt says, leaning against the bedpost and glancing down at her.

She nods, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief second. “Yep,” she breathes out. Chuck agrees to sneak into the pit and give some food for Thomas without getting caught by Gally. So, she's relieved that her brother doesn't have to spend the night dealing with hunger. "Where's Teresa sleeping?" 

“At Alby's room.” Newt gives a tired smile, his gaze drifting to the wardrobe. He pulls out a worn leather backpack and holds it up for her to see. “This was mine,” he says. “When I was a Runner.”

Katherine’s curiosity stirs, and she sits up to get a better look. “Looks cool,” she says, tracing the edges of the cracked leather.

He hands it to her, his fingers brushing against hers. “Give it to Thomas. He’ll need it more than me.”

She takes it, feeling the weight of the small gesture, and looks up to meet his tired but gentle gaze. “I will,” she says quietly.

“Good that.” Newt’s shoulders slump with the exhaustion he’s been trying to hide all day. He begins to untie his shoes, glancing at the bed as if contemplating something. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor again,” he murmurs. “I don’t mind sharing… if you’re okay with it.”

Katherine’s heartbeat quickens at the suggestion, but she hides it behind a casual shrug. “I don’t mind.”

Newt pulls off his hoodie and tank top, tossing them aside, and sits on the edge of the bed. She notices the tattoo on his back for the first time, the black ink stark against his pale skin. “What’s that?” she asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

He turns, brow furrowed. “What’s what?”

“The tattoo,” she points out. “On your back.”

Newt’s expression is unreadable as he reaches over his shoulder, almost as if he’s forgotten it was there. “Everyone here has one. They’re all different,” he says.

She bites her lips nervously. “Can I look at yours?” 

“Sure,” he shrugs and takes a seat on the bed, so she can reach his level. 

“Property of W.C.K.D. Group A, Subject A5. The Glue.” Katherine frowns as she traces the ink with her fingers, feeling the ridges of his skin beneath. “The Glue?” she murmurs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Newt chuckles softly, the sound tinged with something deeper, almost sad. “Dunno. Maybe I’m just the one who’s supposed to keep everyone together.”

She pauses, her touch lingering a moment longer. “Seems like a fitting name,” she says quietly, a warmth spreading through her chest at the thought. “You’ve always been the one keeping things from falling apart.”

Newt’s gaze softens, and he gives her a small, grateful smile. “Maybe.”

“Can you look at mine?” she asks suddenly, the question tumbling out before she can think twice.

Newt’s runs his fingers through his blond hair before nodding. After she takes a seat, he sweeps her hair to her side and pulls down the collar of her loose blouse to uncover her tattoo, his breath warm against the back of her neck. "Property of W.C.K.D. Group A, subject A2-II. The Feral." 

Katherine’s brow furrows. “The Feral?” she repeats, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. “Sounds like they think I’m some kind of wild animal.”

Newt doesn’t laugh. His fingers brush against her skin as he leans back, his face troubled. “Your subject number…” he begins, his voice wavering.

She turns to face him, the humor draining from her eyes. “What about it?”

“It’s just… weird,” Newt admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s usually a whole number.”

She snorts, trying to shake off the unease curling in her stomach. “Great. They must really hate me for giving abnormal numbering and call me a wild, rule breaker.”

Newt laughs, the sound lighter this time, easing some of the tension between them. “You’re definitely something, love.”

When she wakes, she’s still in Newt’s bed, his arm draped lazily over her waist. He’s still lost in a deep sleep, the gentle rise and fall of his breath soothing. She can’t help but admire his carefree expression, reminiscent of a peaceful newborn.

It’s strange, seeing him so relaxed, as if sleep is the only place where the weight of the Glade doesn’t press down on him. The urge to caress his face flits through her mind, but she pushes it aside, savoring the moment of closeness before reality pulls her back.

She slips out of his embrace, careful not to disturb him, and changes into her clothes, choosing to wear the slightly loose backpack instead of giving it to Thomas. It feels comforting, a piece of Newt close to her. After a moment’s hesitation, she quietly sneaks into the room with weapons and decides to steal small blades from the weapon room, a water bottle and a bag of chocolate cookies from Frypan's kitchen. She’s not about to head into the maze unprepared.

The Glade is calm and quiet as she steps outside, inhaling the fresh morning air. But a thrill of excitement tingles in her chest as she spots two figures sprinting toward the maze doors—Thomas and Minho.

"Hey, boys!" she breathes out, her voice breaking the stillness. Her feet take a run at them and stop right behind them, who are waiting for the maze doors to open.

They turn to her, and Thomas’s eyes light up, relief flooding his expression. "Hey, Kat."

Minho’s gaze flickers to her backpack, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Where did you get that?"

"It’s Newt's. A bit loose, but I like it," she replies, leaving out the tender details of how she came to wear it. A smirk plays at the corners of her mouth. "Do I look nice in it?"

Minho blinks, bewildered. "How did you get him to let you borrow it? He never let me."

"I have my ways," she shrugs. Only if they know.

Minho studies her, his gaze sharp. "Did you sleep with him?"

Thomas’s eyes widen, a look of disgust creeping over his face. "What?"

Katherine rolls her eyes. "I don’t have to sleep with guys to get what I want from them."

"Then how?" Minho presses, genuinely curious.

"Told you. I have my ways." She focuses her eyes on the maze doors, which are opening slowly and painfully for the day.

"All right, let’s go!" Minho says, already darting into the maze. Katherine and Thomas quickly follow, their feet pounding against the ground, the thrill of adventure coursing through them.

As they run, the maze captivates Katherine; it’s both magnificent and terrifying, a labyrinth that hides danger in its shadows. After hours of navigating twists and turns, Minho finally slows, glancing back at them.

"So… you and Newt have a thing going on?" he asks casually, but the underlying curiosity is evident.

"Nah. What makes you think that?" Katherine replies.

"Nothing," Minho shrugs, but Katherine can see the doubt in his eyes.

Thomas gives her a knowing look, as if he’s deciphering a riddle only he understands. They share an unspoken bond, the kind only twins possess, able to read each other’s emotions in a heartbeat.

"Minho?" Katherine calls out, curiosity sparking in her eyes.

"Yeah?"

"You got a tattoo on your neck too?"

"Yep. Subject A4, The Agile."

"What tattoo?" Thomas asks, his brows furrowing in confusion.

Katherine stops, and her brother mimics her, looking perplexed. She reaches behind him on her toes, peering at his neck. "Group A, subject A2-I. The Leader."

"What’s yours?" Thomas asks, intrigued.

"Group A, subject A2-II. The Feral."

"Feral?" Minho chuckles, then blinks in realization. "Wait—"

"Twins," Katherine states, glancing at Thomas. "They recognize both of us as a single subject."

"That’s weird," Minho comments, but Katherine shrugs it off, unwilling to let anything dampen her spirits.

"Who cares?" she replies, and they resume their run, the thrill of the maze fueling their energy.

"Not much further to the inner ring," Minho announces, and they press on until they stop before a section marked with the bold number seven.

"That’s strange," Minho mumbles, his gaze fixed on the section above him.

Katherine raises an eyebrow, concern creeping into her chest. "What?"

"Seven isn’t supposed to be open for another week," he replies, stepping cautiously into the section.

"What the hell is this place?" Thomas asks, his voice low as he surveys the array of large, sharp panels before them.

"We call them blades," Minho explains, but his confidence wavers when he notices something on the ground. He crouches to pick up a bloody, ripped tank top.

"It’s Ben’s, isn’t it?" Katherine’s heart sinks, fear gnawing at her.

"Yeah," Minho confirms, dropping the shirt like it’s on fire. "A Griever must have pulled him down here."

Suddenly, a beeping sound echoes through the space, freezing them in place as they search for the source. Thomas pulls a device from his backpack, something they found inside the Griever.

"Whoa, hey!" Minho protests, his eyes darting between the device and Thomas.

Thomas moves it around, and the beeping fluctuates. He walks back toward the blades, and it quiets down. Turning to go in the opposite direction, the device starts beeping again.

"I think it’s showing us the way," Thomas states, stepping forward cautiously, and they follow him into a tunnel.

"This place is trash," Katherine whispers, peering down at the endless cliffs below, her stomach churning.

"Minho, you ever seen this place before?" Thomas asks, scanning their surroundings.

"No," Minho replies, equally unsettled.

As they reach the end of the tunnel, they find a dead end against a cement wall. The beeping of the device increases, tension mounting with every pulse.

"It’s just another dead end," Minho sighs in disappointment, but suddenly the noise stops.

The red light on the device turns green, and a loud cracking sound erupts from the wall, causing all three of them to jump in surprise.

The cement wall rises, revealing another door, and then another door. The final barrier is a circular opening leading into darkness.

"Are you guys sure about this?" Minho asks, apprehension lacing his voice.

"Nope," Thomas admits, his eyes locked on the circular door as they draw closer.

Minho touches the cement, grimacing at the sticky substance he finds. "Grievers."

"Eww…" Katherine grimaces, her stomach twisting.

A red light inside the circle begins to blink, lasers scanning them up and down, an ominous echo resonating throughout the tunnel.

"What the hell was that?" Thomas asks, panic creeping in.

Suddenly, a loud alarm blares, sending adrenaline shooting through Katherine’s veins.

"We gotta get out of here!" she exclaims, glancing around, fear seeping into her voice.

"Give me the key! Give me the key!" Minho yells, and Thomas tosses the device to him. Minho stashes it in his bag, urgency painted across his face. "Move, move!"

Sweat drips off Katherine’s forehead as she sprints forward, pushing her limits.

As they reach the entrance of the tunnel, the blades begin to shut down one by one, the noise amplifying the horror of their situation.

"We gotta go! Run, guys!" Minho screams, taking the lead, a primal instinct to survive igniting within him. "We’re gonna get trapped! Go! Go!"

Katherine feels her heart race, fear and determination coursing through her veins as they navigate the maze. The walls start to close in, and she pushes herself to sprint through the narrowing gaps.

"Minho!" Thomas’s frantic shout snaps Katherine back to reality.

"Come on, move, Tommy!" Katherine yells, urging him forward.

"Keep going! Keep going! Let’s go!" Minho yells, matching Thomas's pace. "Go, go, go!"

Thomas makes a sharp turn, sliding through a closing blade just in time, and they all continue to run, adrenaline fueling their every step until they reach section seven.

Suddenly, the ground crumbles beneath them, walls collapsing behind them.

"Come on! Don’t look back!" Minho shouts again, leading the charge.

"Oh, shit!" Katherine hisses, her heart pounding as the walls of the maze begin to shut one by one.

"There!" Minho shouts, taking a sharp left and jumping onto a closing section of the wall, crawling through the gap.

"Thomas! Get your ass here, dude!" Katherine calls out, shoving him forward just before the wall closes.

With one final push, she crawls through, landing hard beside Thomas. Her back hits the ground, the impact rattling her. "Oh, man!"

The wall shuts completely behind them, and the three of them drop to the ground, panting heavily, relief flooding over them.

Katherine glances at her friends, the moment of danger beginning to fade. "Anyone want chocolate cookies?" she breathes out, managing a shaky laugh. The tension eases slightly, the bond between them solidifying in the face of danger.