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ACT I SCENE XVII SPHYROKOPOI
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THE MAZE felt both familiar and alien to her. The darkness cast shadows in every corner of the walls and Cassandra imagined Grievers lying in wait for an ambush. It looked completely different than what she was used to. Even in daylight, the twisting hallways were already daunting enough but in the pale waning light, it looked like something out of a nightmare.
Like the story of the Minotaur. Except there was no ancient hero out to slay beasts; just two exhausted teenagers with next to no weapons save for their little knives. And a single Griever was a lot more deadlier than a Cretan bull.
