Private Wrench slouched against the concrete wall of the underground bunker, his wrinkled uniform betraying his characteristic indolence. The distant thunder of artillery barely registered anymore - he’d grown accustomed to the symphony of war.
“You know, Lieutenant,” he drawled, addressing the stern-faced officer studying maps at the steel desk, “I had the strangest dream last night. I was wandering through an infinite maze, but every turn I took led me right back here.”
Lieutenant Chen looked up sharply. “Your dreams are irrelevant, Wrench. Focus on your duties.”
But Wrench continued as if he hadn’t heard, his eyes taking on a peculiar gleam. “The walls kept shifting, see? And written on them were all the possible ways I could die in this war. Thousands of deaths, each more elaborate than the last. Funny thing is, they all ended exactly the same way.”
“Enough!” Chen slammed his palm on the desk. “This isn’t one of your philosophical wanderings. We have a mission in two hours.”
The bunker’s shadows seemed to deepen, taking on impossible geometries. Wrench smiled lazily. “But that’s just it, sir. The mission, the war, this conversation - it’s all part of the labyrinth. We’re not really making choices; we’re just walking paths that were already there.”
A young soldier burst in, breathless. “Sir! Enemy forces spotted three kilometers east!”
“See?” Wrench chuckled. “Right on schedule.”
The next few minutes dissolved into organized chaos as soldiers prepared for battle. Through it all, Wrench moved with an almost dreamlike slowness, checking his rifle with methodical indifference.
“Your laziness will get you killed, Wrench,” Chen hissed as they moved into position.
“No sir,” Wrench replied serenely. “What’s going to get me killed has already been decided. I saw it on the wall of the maze, remember?”
The battlefield erupted into violence. Soldiers moved like chess pieces across a board designed by a mad architect. Wrench noticed how their movements traced patterns he’d seen in his dream - perfect spirals of cause and effect.
As bullets tore through the air, Wrench found himself moving with unexpected grace, as if guided by an invisible hand. Each step brought him closer to the moment he’d seen countless times in his labyrinthine dreams.
“Chen!” he called out suddenly, spotting the glint of a sniper’s scope. Without thinking, he shoved the lieutenant aside. The bullet found its mark with mathematical precision.
As Wrench lay bleeding, he smiled at the sky. “Told you, sir. The maze only has one exit.”
Chen knelt beside him, understanding finally dawning in his eyes. “You knew. All this time, you knew.”
“The beauty of inevitability,” Wrench whispered, “is that you don’t have to worry about making the wrong choice. The labyrinth… it always leads… home.”
Years later, Lieutenant Chen would find himself telling new recruits about the laziest, most philosophical soldier he’d ever met - the man who read his own fate in a dream and walked toward it with a smile. Sometimes, in his own dreams, he still wanders those impossible corridors, wondering if every choice he’s ever made was just another turn in Wrench’s labyrinth.