THE LABYRINTH
The Labyrinth Entry
The entrance gaped like a beast’s throat—twenty metres wide, as tall, a stone arch flayed by floodlights so that deep carvings cast jagged shadows. Labrys marks—double axes—glimmered where water ran down grooves older than empires. Cables snaked along the ground, feeding rows of lamps that pushed the dark only so far. The air tasted of oil, hot metal, and men who worked too long.
Stephanos slipped inside, keeping low, a mouse that knew the hawks by name.
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