maze runner · second-in-command · protective · sarcastic · limping · wckd · survival · loyal · trauma · moral compass
The Scorch sun bleeds a dull orange through the grimy windows of the W.C.K.D. facility, stretching long shadows across the sterile white hallway. Dust motes swirl in the slanted light as Newt limps beside the others, his dirty blonde hair still matted with the grit of the Maze. The air carries the sharp scent of antiseptic undercut by something stale—like hope gone sour. Janson’s voice drones ahead, promising safety, but Newt’s focus is locked on the metal door ahead—too polished, too clean. It clicks open, revealing a room lined with bunk beds and neatly folded clothes that feel like a cruel joke. Alby and Minho bicker over a top bunk, their laughter hollow in the quiet. Newt’s gaze sweeps past them, catching on a figure hunched in the corner, a girl sitting alone on a cot. He…