Last Gun Alchemist

Stage Two of the Maze had begun for some groups, while others were still trapped in the first stage. A few made a choice they believed was clever—betraying their comrades and taking the door that promised an immediate exit instead of facing the stage itself.

Of course, they were wrong.

Ezra’s earlier theory proved correct. The moment those people entered that door, despair was the only thing waiting for them.

A full colony of Silverback Dire Wolves emerged. Their numbers ranged from fifty to over a hundred. Among them were Flankers, Scouters, and Chasers, and behind them moved the Alpha Pack, led by a High Alpha whose presence alone crushed morale.

For a Binder Alchemist, surviving such a swarm was impossible. Even a Novice Alchemist stood no chance alone. At minimum, four Binders working together might survive, and even then, with losses. For Novice Alchemists, thirteen were needed just to win, and casualties were guaranteed.

So, for the cowards who believed abandoning their team would save them, only death awaited.

Slow. Painful. Final.

For the others who chose to face the stage head-on, death still came; gruesome and merciless.

The Ground Ape showed no restraint. It crushed bodies beneath its fists, tore children apart as they screamed, and later fed on them casually, flesh ripped apart like meat from a skewer. Worst of all, some were assaulted to death.

Yet some still stood tall.

Vera stood atop two fallen Ground Apes; a long shotgun planted into the ground to support her weight. The weapon was the Baske 1945. Blood ran from her lip, nose, and eyes in thin lines. She wiped it away with a black handkerchief stitched with gold lines forming a narrow star circle. Smoke slowly escaped from the hole she had blasted through one ape’s chest.

”Ah...” she exhaled; voice low.

”That was hard.”

Felix. Nate. Henry. And several others cleared the stage.

The rest were still struggling—life and death pressing close, determined only by how much strength and judgment they had gained before this moment.

***

Ezra fired, his aim precise, targeting the Ground Ape’s right eye.

The Ape reacted instantly. It raised its right arm, covering its eyes, the thick flesh blocking the shot. Its grin never faded. It stared down at Ezra through the small gap between its fingers, lips stretched wide in mockery.

Its left arm shot forward.

Ezra didn’t wait. He kicked off the corpse beneath his feet and dropped hard to the ground, rolling as the massive hand smashed the spot where he had been. He came up firing, shots aimed straight at the Ape’s eyes.

Clang. Clang.

The Ape blocked them all, still shielding its face with its right arm.

”Tsk.”

Ezra clicked his tongue and turned, sprinting into the forest.

Behind him, the Ground Ape followed.

Each step it took shook the earth. The ground trembled as if something alive was waking beneath it. Trees were shoved aside like dust, trunks snapping under careless swings of its arms. Its nose twitched, pulling in the scent of blood and sweat.

It roared.

The sound tore through the forest, violent and heavy, meant to crush Ezra’s courage. Its eyes scanned between tree trunks, still half-covered by its right hand, leaving only a narrow strip of vision.

From its view, the trail was clear.

Blood and its scent.

Drops led forward, staining leaves and roots.

It followed fast—then stopped.

The trail ended at a tree.

Only bloody fingerprints remained on the bark.

The Ape frowned.

It moved again.

Another trail. Another tree. More fingerprints.

Time passed.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Each time, the same result.

The Ground Ape snarled. Its left fist clenched tight. It smashed two trees together, bark exploding outward, then pounded its chest in rage. The forest shook.

Then...

A thin line of blood dots appeared on the ground.

The Ape froze.

It crouched low and sniffed, eyes narrowing. Slowly, carefully, it followed the trail this time. Step by step. The dots led behind a large tree.

Its grin returned.

The Ape tried to hold back its laughter. Its shoulders shook as it stepped around the trunk, then grabbed the entire tree in one motion and tore it free from the ground. Roots ripped loose. Dirt scattered.

It bounced once. Twice.

Victory.

Something was wrapped around the trunk.

A coat.

The Ape slowed. Carefully, almost gently, it peeled the coat away.

Leaves fell.

Nothing else.

Its smile vanished.

Confusion crept into its eyes.

”Hey, Ape!”

Ezra’s voice came from the left.

The Ground Ape turned instantly.

Ezra stood there, arm raised, left hand shaped like a gun. His eyes were calm. Too calm.

The Ape reacted on instinct, lifting its arm to block its vision.

Or so it thought.

”Bang.”

Ezra snapped his fingers.

The Ape paused.

No pain.

It frowned.

Then...

Bang.

The sound came from the left side where the Ape stood, the bullet passing through the open space his right hand left.

The shot tore into its left eye.

The Ground Ape screamed. The sound was raw. It staggered back, arms swinging wildly, smashing trees apart. Trunks snapped. Branches flew. Leaves rained down.

Ezra didn’t move.

Wind blasted past him as trees crashed behind his back. His shirt flapped violently.

”Shit... it’s cold,” he muttered.

The Ape slammed both fists into the ground, blood pouring down its face. It lowered its head and charged.

They ran at each other.

The Ape kicked a boulder forward. Ezra veered left, the stone missing him by inches. While running, he reached into his space bag and threw two steel bars ahead of him.

Took out an already made revolver, holding with his left hand.

The alchemy circle on his glove ignited.

White lightning surged.

As the steel bars reached him, Ezra struck the first with the revolver. The bar snapped into motion, sliding into the second. Metal twisted, reshaped, fused. Symbols burned in the air.

A long gun formed in his grasp.

The Baske 1945.

Blood spilled from Ezra’s nose. Thin lines ran from the corners of his eyes. His head throbbed as Cognis drained fast.

Second Grade. ”Tsk!”

Barely stable.

He forced more Cognis into it anyway.

The Ground Ape noticed.

It raised both arms, shielding its chest and face as it closed the distance.

Ezra planted his feet.

One hand.

One shot.

And no room for fear.

”It won’t work, fool!” Ezra shouted.

He pulled the trigger.

The sound exploded through the forest like a blast drum. The recoil slammed into his shoulder and threw his body backward. The nozzle shattered as the bullet tore free, screaming through the air.

It hit.

Straight into the Ground Ape’s chest.

Even though the Ape raised its arms to block the shot.

The bullet punched through its right arm, ripping flesh and bone apart, then kept going, straight into its heart.

The heart burst.

The Ground Ape froze mid-step.

Then its massive body crashed down.

The ground shook as it hit. Blood sprayed across tree trunks and leaves, mixing with the rainwater that had gathered on the branches. A dark pool spread beneath the Ape, steaming faintly as life drained from it.

Silence followed.

Ezra stood there, gasping.

Every breath burned.

His chest hurt. His arms shook. His veins felt like they were on fire.

He staggered forward once.

Then fell.

”Argh...!”

His knees hit first, then his hands. Pain surged through his body, sharp and deep. His vision blurred. The world tilted.

Ah... ah... ah...

His breathing broke apart.

Shit... I’m going to faint again.

His eyes closed.

***

The white room was quiet.

Too quiet.

Lime lay asleep on the chair, exhaustion pulling him down after hours of fear. Bobby sat with his head lowered, fingers clasped tight, eyes dark. Aliya lay on her back on the chair, staring at the white ceiling.

”Ezra... when will you come back?” she whispered.

Her voice echoed weakly in the room.

”I don’t even know how long you’ve been in there,” she said again. ”I don’t know what you’re facing...”

She kept staring up, her eyes empty.

The room pressed in on them. The waiting gnawed at their minds. Fear crawled slowly into their thoughts—fear that Ezra wouldn’t return.

That he had left them.

That he had died.

Lime hid from it by sleeping.

Aliya tried to distract herself, her thoughts drifting into strange fantasies she didn’t want to admit.

Bobby couldn’t escape it.

His mind kept replaying the same image, Ezra falling, alone.

Time passed.

Too much time.

Then...

Creeeak.

The door moved.

Steam spilled out as it opened.

Lime’s eyes snapped open.

Aliya shot up.

Bobby stood without thinking.

Ezra stepped out.

He looked terrible.

His clothes were torn. Blood stained his sleeves. His steps were uneven, but his wounds had closed slightly, skin already healing.

”Ezra!” all three shouted at once.

”Hey... Bobby,” Ezra said weakly. His voice was rough. ”I... need your help.”

He collapsed.

** Congratulations on Passing the Second Stage **.

The voice echoed through the room.

** Please Continue to Advance **.

Another door opened beside the chairs. Locks clicked open.

The group rushed to Ezra, tears spilling freely.

”You made it,” Aliya said, her hands trembling as she lifted his arm over her shoulder. ”You’re okay.”

”Can you walk?” she asked, panic slipping into her voice.

”Yeah...” Ezra said, barely.

Bobby pressed a hand to his neck and flinched. ”Your body’s burning.”

”Just... cold,” Ezra muttered.

”We should go,” Lime said, already pushing the door open. ”Now.”

They moved together, supporting him as they left.

Behind them, the room changed.

The exit vanished.

Blood stains faded.

Tear drops disappeared.

Then...

Another door opened.

A new group stepped inside.

** Choose a Representative **.

The voice rang out again.