Chapter 31 Chapter Thirty-One The End of Imprisonment

The rumbling of stones against each other had just begun, heralding the closing of the gates for the night, when Alby showed up, much to his surprise, ready to release Thomas.There was a clang of metal on the key and lock, and the cell door swung open. "Not dead, fool?" Alby asked.He was in much better shape than he had been the day before, and Thomas stared at him for a long time.His complexion returned to normal, and the red bloodshot eyes no longer criss-crossed.In just twenty-four hours he seemed to have gained fifteen pounds. Alby noticed Thomas staring at her. "Stupid, what are you looking at?"

Thomas shook his head slightly, realizing that he had lost his mind just now.His mind was racing, and he wondered what Alby remembered and knew, what he thought of himself. "What...it's okay. It's just that you recovered so quickly, which makes people feel incredible. Are you okay now?" Alby bulged the muscles in his right arm. "It couldn't be better, come out." Thomas complied, hoping that his eyes hadn't wandered, making his concern apparent. Alby closed the prison door, locked it, and turned to Thomas. "Honestly, that's fake. I feel like a bunch of shit that's been stepped on by a Griever."

"Yeah, that's exactly what you looked like yesterday." Thomas hoped that Alby was just joking when he found Alby's scowling face, and quickly said, "But today you are as good as ever, I swear." Alby put the keys back in his pocket and leaned his back against the cell door. "Well, we did have a deep chat yesterday." Thomas' heart was pounding, and at this point, he didn't know what Alby wanted. "Uh... yes, I do remember." "The image still comes back, rookie. It's fading, but I'll never forget it. It's so horrible, just talking about it makes me choke in my throat. And then those images disappear, as if the same thing doesn't want me to remember it .”

Images from the previous day flashed through Thomas' mind.Alby struggled desperately, trying to strangle herself—Thomas would not have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.Although he dreaded the answer, he knew he had to ask the next question. "What about me? You keep saying you saw me. What the hell am I doing?" Alby stared into the open space for a while before replying, "You're with...the creators, helping the evil. But that's not what surprised me." Thomas felt as if someone had punched him hard in the stomach.Aiding evil?He didn't know how to ask what this sentence meant.

Albee went on: "I hope the catastrophe doesn't bring us real memories - it just implants us with false ones. Some people will doubt it - I can only hope. If the world is what I see it to be... ..." His voice trailed off, leaving only an uncomfortable silence. Confused, Thomas pressed, "Can't you just tell me what you saw me doing?" Alby shook his head. "No, fool, I can't risk strangling myself anymore. Maybe it's just something they implanted in our minds to control us—like erasing our memories." "Well, if I'm evil, maybe you should keep locking me up," Thomas said half-jokingly.

"You're not evil, rookie. Maybe you're an idiot, but you're not evil." Alby had an imperceptible smile on his face—a rare thing to see in his usually stern face, " What you did - taking the risk to save me and Minho - was definitely not the evil I'd heard of. No, I was just thinking of the Grievous Serum, and something fishy about Pain. For you, and for Myself, I hope so." Alby didn't think there was anything wrong with Thomas, which made him heave a long sigh of relief.He had only heard half of what Alby had just said. "How bad is it, those memories you retrieved?"

"I recall some things growing up, where I lived, things like that. If God himself came down now and said to me that I could go home..." Alby stared at the ground and shook his head again, "If It's true, rookie, and I swear I'd rather spend time with the Griever before I go back." Thomas hadn't expected his memory to be so bad—he wished Alby could tell him some detail, describe something, anything.But he knew that the suffocation incident was still vivid in Alby's mind, and it was difficult for him to change his mind at the moment. "Well, maybe they're not real, Alby, maybe the Griever serum is some kind of psychoactive drug that will give you hallucinations." Thomas knew that his attempts were futile.

Alby thought for a good minute. "Drugs... hallucinations..." He shook his head, "I doubt it." Worth a try. "We still have to get out of this place." "Yeah, thanks rookie," Alby said sarcastically, "we wouldn't have known we needed to do that without your pep talk." He gave that half-smile look again. The change in Alby's mood also swept away Thomas' melancholy. "Stop calling me a rookie, now that girl is a rookie." "Well, rookie," sighed Alby, obviously unwilling to continue the conversation, "get something to eat—your hard day's incarceration is over."

"One day is enough for me." Thirsting for answers, Thomas was eager to get out of prison sooner.Besides, he was dying of hunger.He smiled at Alby and went straight to the kitchen to find something to eat. Dinner was delicious. Knowing Thomas would be late, Frypan left behind a plate full of roast beef and potatoes.A note left on the plate said there were still biscuits in the cupboard.It appears Chef is determined to continue offering the support he expressed for Thomas at the council.While eating, Minho arrived, intending to familiarize him with the situation before the first day of his important walker training, and at the same time tell him a few statistics and interesting facts, as well as something for him to think about before going to bed at night.

After speaking, Thomas walked back to his secret sleeping place from the previous night—a corner at the back of the cemetery.He's thinking about his conversation with Chuck, wondering what it's like to have a parent say good night to you. There were a few boys hanging out in the glade at night, but it was mostly quiet and it seemed like everyone just wanted to go to bed and end the day and let it go.Thomas didn't complain -- it was just what he needed. The blanket someone had left him the day before was still there.He picked it up, lay down under the covers, and snuggled up comfortably in the corner, where there was a high wall and a large clump of soft vines.The smells of the woods were mixed, and he took a deep breath to relax himself.The air was so pure it reminded him of the weather in this place.It never rains, it never snows, it's never too cold or too hot.It would be heaven if they weren't separated from friends and family and trapped in this maze with a pack of monsters.

Some things are too perfect.He knew this, but could find no explanation. His mind flew back to the size and scale of the maze that Minho had mentioned to him at dinner.He believed it—he had realized the enormity of the place when he came to the cliff.He just couldn't understand how such a building was built.The maze stretches for miles, and the daily distances the walkers run require them to be almost superhuman. However, they have been unable to find an exit.Still, despite the desperation of the situation, they did not give up. At dinner Minho told him an old story - a weird and inadvertent remnant that lingered in his old memory - about a woman trapped in a maze.She kept holding on to the wall of the maze with her right hand, and walked forward touching the wall, and escaped from the maze.In this way, she had to turn right at every turn, and the simple principles of physics and geography finally led her to find the exit.The story has its truth. Not here though, where all the roads end up back in the glade, they must have missed something. Tomorrow, his training is about to start.Tomorrow, he can start helping everyone find clues that have been overlooked.That's when Thomas made a decision, he was going to forget about all the weird stuff, forget about all the bad things, forget about everything.He won't give up until he solves the mystery and finds a way home. tomorrow.This word has been lingering in his heart, accompanied him into the dream.