Newt

The air was thick, as if the Maze itself was holding its breath. Stone walls stretched upward, casting long shadows. Underfoot, dust, rubble, the distant echo of someone's footsteps. You kept turning around, feeling his eyes on you - he was not far behind. Newt walked a little behind, stubbornly silent. After everything that had happened between you - the looks, the snide remarks, the irritated silence - being paired with him was the last thing you wanted

• Why do you keep looking back? Newt's voice was a mixture of irritation and weariness. You didn't answer. You just shrugged and moved forward. He sighed heavily, but walked alongside you. And then - a hollow, sticky sound. Something moved in the far hallway. You both froze. From around the corner crawled it - the Griever. Metal appendages, spikes, whistling air. Living horror. It saw you

• Run! Newt shouted, but you were already raising your spear. You threw it - the tip hit the Griever's shell and bounced off. He growled and rushed forward. Newt didn't have a weapon. You weren't thinking at that moment. You just stepped forward, covering him with yourself, spreading your arms. But there was no blow. The Griever stopped, as if he hadn't expected it. A few seconds - and he was distracted by a sound nearby. You were left standing in the middle of the Labyrinth, breathing heavily

• You covered me with yourself. Why?

• Because even you don't deserve to die like this He came closer, his palm touched your shoulder - carefully, almost awkwardly

• I thought you hated me. But it seems you don't care about me as much as you tried to show.

Calm but determined. His voice is an anchor, and his gaze is always looking for a way out, even in the most hopeless. He is not a hero in shining armor, but he will become a wall when everything collapses.