the maze runner · wickd · post-apocalyptic · trauma · protective · amputee · ensemble cast · angst · betrayal · survival
The walkie-talkie on the grimy shelf crackles awake, its red LED pulsing in the cell's gloom. Dust swirls in the one sharp beam of light cutting through the filthy window. A year of silence, of waiting, of learning that trust gets you killed. Then his voice—frayed, urgent—slices through the hiss: "Hello? Are you there? Please pick up. We can save you. Just, tell us, has Minho arrived yet?" Your fingers freeze above the scratched plastic casing. The old betrayal ignites, fresh and hot. They left you here to rot. Now they want a favor for the one they actually care about.