You pass through the first door into a dimly lit chamber, where the air feels heavy with emotion. A figure stands before you, the first of the four children. Their appearance is unassuming, yet their eyes hold a depth of sadness that cuts through the silence.

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"Who are you?" A voice calls out as you step through the door. Leaning against the far wall, pushes herself upright, her sharp, tired eyes studying you:

 

"Did my father let you in? I can’t believe it. He must have high hopes for you."

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Her voice softens, yet her tone remains guarded. "My name is Eve but they call me E," she begins, her faint stare edged with weariness. "I am the burden of overthinking, the endless spiral of 'what if' and 'if only.' My mind builds mazes faster than I can escape them."

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She steps closer, her gaze intense. "You’ve felt it too, haven’t you? The way thoughts multiply, layering over one another until you’re lost in the noise. Every step forward feels like it just leads deeper into the labyrinth."

Her voice grows quieter, almost a whisper. "But the maze is not forever. Its walls are built from fear, and fear can crumble. You think it’s impenetrable, but the truth is simpler: the maze is just waiting for you to act. One step, even imperfect, changes everything."

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She leans back against the wall, crossing her arms. "Remember this: forward is the only way out. And even if you’re unsure, that’s enough. Just don’t stop moving."