3D Maze Nightmare

So, I found myself scurrying through endless corridors of brick, artificial grass, and stone. The walls hummed with a dull digital light, and every turn carried me deeper into a space that felt both sterile and suffocating. Somewhere in the distance, I caught sight of a rat—orange, pixelated—tracing the walls the same way I was. I froze. The rat froze too. Was it chasing me? Was it a reflection in some invisible mirror, meaning that I was the rat? As if I were watching myself in third person, condemned to witness my own movements from outside?

Then, like a tear in the fabric of this sterile nightmare, I stumbled on something out of place: textures of low-res logos that looked torn from some 90s programming guide. I blinked, and for a moment the strange picture resolved into a playful scene: a blue dinosaur hunched over Lego bricks, framed by a painted window to a garden, as if spilling sunlight into the maze. I could almost hear soft sounds bleeding through that image—birds, wind, a child’s laughter. The sight washed a fragment of calm over me, a childlike illusion that maybe the world wasn’t all walls and corners. For a fleeting moment, I believed there could be peace in this cold, looping universe.

But hope often betrays. I kept running until I found it: a floating yellow smiley face at the end of a corridor. Its grin radiated like a beacon, promising release, escape, an end to this aimless wandering. I rushed forward, desperate. The walls shattered, the maze dissolved… and then I was standing at the start of another labyrinth of endless corridors of brick, artificial grass, and stone.