Minh and Tài stood still, too bored even to sigh, waiting for another vast maze of cages to unfold.

  But this time, before them stood only three empty cagesIn front of those cages lay three boxesanimal imagessymbolsstars

  This time, Minh and Tài had no idea how to solve it.

  They stared at the three empty cages and the boxes of scattered images, helpless.

  Minh reread the symbols and stars again and again, tracing patterns in his mind.

  He realized something, in the first zone, there had been three unique symbols and starsIn the second, only oneAnd now, in this third, none

  Tài frowned.

  “So what does that even mean?

  The more we go, the less unique they get?”

  Minh didn’t answer.

  His eyes stayed fixed on the empty cages, a growing unease rising in his chest.

  If the patterns kept fading, then what waited at the end, when

  became the same?

  Minh’s eyes widened as the pattern clicked in his head.

  “The first unique became normal…”

  He murmured.

  He hurried to the boxes, grabbing the star and symbolfirst

  zone’s unique mark.

  He placed them carefully into the first cage

  Then he picked the second zone’ssecond cage

  Finally, he found the last remaining uniquethird cage

  Tài watched in silence as Minh stepped back.

  “You sure about this?”

  Minh nodded.

  “It’s not about finding the special ones.

  It’s about remembering how they fade.”

  The symbols and stars now glowed faintly on the cages, but nothing happened.

  Only the box of animal imagesMinh and Tài stared down at it.

  Inside were pictures of animals, dozens, maybe hundreds, almost every creature they had seen wandering this zoo.

  Minh frowned, whispering to himself,

  “What did we miss?”

  The silence of the domain pressed in again, thick and watchful.

  Minh and Tài stared helplessly at the pile of animal images.

  None of them had any idea what to do next.

  Minh finally picked one at random and moved toward the first cage.

  Tài grabbed his arm.

  “Hey, do you even know what you’re doing?”

  Minh shook his head.

  “I just want to try.”

  Tài snatched the picture from his hand.

  “Do you not remember the first time we weren’t careful?

  We almost got wiped out! These Chaos aren’t simple!”

  “But we don’t how to do it yet!”

  Minh snapped back.

  “If I don’t test it, how will I figure it out?”

  Tài shouted, his voice echoing through the empty zoo:

  “Not in a ”

  That last word, , hung in the air.

  Minh froze, eyes widening.

  “What did you just say, Tài?”

  Tài blinked, his anger fading as fast as it rose.

  “...I’m sorry.”

  Minh didn’t even seem to hear Tài’s apology.

  His eyes lit up instead.

  “No, Friend! What did that sign say?”

  He pointed toward a flickering light post ahead.

  Tài followed his hand but saw nothing there.

  “What sign?”

  Minh turned to him, voice urgent.

  “The sign in the first zone, where we found the pen and the papers.”

  Tài frowned, trying to recall.

  After a moment his memory clicked, and he murmured,

  “”

  “Yes, that’s it!” Minh said quickly.

  Tài tilted his head.

  “I always wondered how someone as rough as Phúc could have those words in him, that’s why I remembered.

  But how important could it be?”

  Minh’s tone turned firm.

  “Really important.

  In a puzzle like this, every forgotten word is a key we haven’t used.”

  Tài’s eyes widened as the idea sank in.

  He nodded slowly.

  “I see… but what does that ?”

  Minh took a breath.

  “It means only a friend can find the way into his mind.

  And who does that mean?”

  He pointed to himself, then to Tài.

  “Us. It’s us.”

  Tài frowned, shaking his head.

  “Nonsense.

  He’s got plenty of friends in his class, how do you know we’re the ones he meant?”

  Minh’s voice grew firm, almost certain.

  “Because this domain was born from his grudge against

  Deep inside, he’s still wondering if we’d ever call him a friend again.”

  Tài’s expression softened.

  “Then that’s settled. He our friend.”

  “No doubt,” Minh said quietly.

  Tài glanced at the cages.

  “And so…?”

  Minh exhaled, his confidence faltering.

  “I still don’t know how to solve this.

  Even if we’re his friends… I don’t know what we’re supposed to do with that.”

  While Minh lowered his head in doubt, Tài muttered under his breath,

  “A true friend always knows their friend…”

  Then he looked up suddenly, eyes bright.

  “I know how to solve this, Minh!”

  Minh’s head snapped up.

  “How?”

  Tài grinned, excitement cutting through the gloom.

  “Do you remember what Phúc used to call us, you, me, and Linh?”

  Minh frowned, trying to recall, but before he could answer, Tài continued,

  “He called you me and Linh

  Remember now?”

  Minh’s mind flashed backward, the memory surfacing at last.

  That sunny afternoon when Phúc had laughed and said:

  “Minh, you’re always loyal, so I’ll call you

  Tài, you’re sneaky and mischievous, you’re

  And Linh, you like cats, don’t you? So suits you.”

  The three of them, Minh, Tài, and Linh, had groaned at his teasing names, but Phúc only smiled and handed each of them a small toy:

  A dog for Minh, a fox for Tài, a cat for Linh.

  “Dog, fox, cat… and gorilla, I love them all most!”

  Phúc had said, thumping his chest proudly.

  “I’m the gorilla, and you three are the rest. That’s our friendship, right?”

  The tension of that memory dissolved into laughter, the kind that once bound them together.

  And that moment, that warmth, was the one Minh had forgotten.

  Tears slipped down Minh’s cheeks as the memory settled deep in his heart.

  Tài reached into the box and pulled out three images, a dog, a cat, and a fox, each drawn exactly like the toys Phúc had once given them.

  He handed them to Minh with a small smile.

  “My part’s done. Now it’s your turn.”

  Minh accepted the images, his hands trembling slightly. He looked up at Tài, who shrugged and grinned faintly.

  “I can’t think any further.

  My memory’s sharp as a fox, but right now we need your nose to sniff out the answer.”

  Minh turned toward the cages.

  Each already held a star and symbol inside, only the animal images remained.

  He hesitated.

  One mistake could reset everything, throw them back to the beginning.

  The thought alone made his stomach twist.

  “Alright, Phúc…” he whispered under his breath.

  “Show me which one belongs to you.”

  “Friend… friend…” The word kept echoing in Minh’s mind, like a whisper trying to remind him of something.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  He thought back, from the first zone’s unique mark to the second, where it became normal… from the second to the third, where only one unique symbol remained. Then it clicked.

  Minh tightened his grip on the animal images and stepped toward the cages with new confidence.

  Tài watched silently as Minh said,

  “Unique to him meant

  When it turned normal… it meant ”

  He stopped at the first cage.

  “The first zone, that’s me. I stepped out of our circle first.”

  He placed the dog

  Then he moved to the second.

  “You shut the door in anger, Tài.

  You denied his friendship.”

  The fox

  Finally, Minh stood before the last one. His voice grew quiet.

  “And that morning… he shouted at Linh.

  They never spoke again, even though they shared a class.”

  He placed the cat

  The three locks appeared beside the cages.

  Tài took one and locked the first cage.

  “We’re sorry, Phúc.”

  Minh picked up the second lock, his voice trembling.

  “Please… accept us back as your friends.”

  Then both of them reached for the last lock together.

  “Together, all three of us will apologize to Linh and we’ll be friends again.”

  The cages vanished, and before Minh and Tài stretched a vast zoo field, filled with cages that faded into the distant mist. From the fog, four figures emerged.

  As they drew closer, Minh and Tài could see them clearly: a gorilla with Phúc’s head, a cat with Linh’s, a dog with Minh’s, and a fox with Tài’s.

  Minh had expected this to come.

  Tài hadn’t. He froze, eyes wide.

  “What the… Why does Phúc see us like that?”

  Minh’s answer was calm but heavy.

  “Prepare for battle, Tài.”

  The Chaos beasts lunged at Minh and Tài without warning.

  Minh reacted first, casting FastThe surge of speed saved them both; their bodies slipped past the first furious strikes.

  Four attackers, but only two targets.

  Minh’s eyes narrowed, he saw the flaw in their movement, the imbalance.

  “Tài! The cat and fox, weak in close combat!

  Focus on them! I’ll hold the gorilla and the dog!”

  Tài nodded, charging his Build UpThe dog leapt toward him, but Minh teleported in, intercepting with a Stop StrikeThat opening gave Tài just enough time, he finished his charge, ducked under the gorilla’s massive swing, and rushed forward.

  The fox and cat leapt back to evade, but Minh appeared behind the cat in a blink, delivering a Focus StrikeWith a roar, Tài unleashed Split Chop

  The cat wasn’t defeated, it let out a piercing cry, echoing across the zoo.

  The sound tore through Minh and Tài’s minds, burning with grief and rage.

  The other three Chaos howled in fury.

  Both Minh and Tài staggered, clutching their heads as the Fast

  Then came the counterattack.

  The gorilla and the dog charged together, earth trembling beneath their weight.

  Tài barely dodged, but not cleanly; the gorilla’s swing caught his side, sending him stumbling.

  Minh teleported just in time, evading the dog’s crushing blow by inches.

  But the assault didn’t stop there.

  From behind, the fox raised its hands, blades forming in mid air, Knife RainThe storm of knives descended.

  Tài gritted his teeth, his armoured deflecting most of the blades, but several still pierced through, cutting deep.

  Minh sensed the spell too late.

  He blinked through space, appearing behind the fox just as the rain ended.

  Without hesitation, Minh drove forward, unleashing Multi Thrust,

  Minh’s Multi ThrustFor a second, it seemed finished.

  But then the fox’s eyes flared red, and instead of collapsing, its wounds closed in reverse.

  The pain, the damage, all of it transferred in a surge of crimson light to the gorilla.

  The gorilla roared, muscles convulsing under the weight of the fox’s suffering.

  Minh froze in disbelief, his skill had struck true, yet the gorilla bore the scars.

  Tài didn’t waste the opening.

  He spun toward the dog beside him and unleashed Rush Slash

  But there was no time to breathe.

  The gorilla charged, massive, furious, its eyes burning with shared agony.

  Minh had no chance to recover; Multi Thrust

  The gorilla’s fist slammed into his chest like a meteor.

  Minh’s body flew backward, crashing onto the cold stone floor.

  Dust erupted around him as he struggled for breath, pain burning through his ribs.

  The dog staggered, trying to rise from the knockback.

  Tài hesitated, glancing at Minh sprawled on the ground.

  “Forget me!”

  Minh shouted, his voice hoarse but commanding.

  “Slay that dog!”

  The command snapped Tài back.

  The dog was still dazed, open for one clean strike.

  Tài thrust his hand forward. “Laser!

  A beam of searing light ripped through the air, scorching the dog’s side.

  It howled, dropping to one knee.

  Tài surged forward, blade raised for the finishing blow.

  But before he could strike, a shout echoed from behind:

  “Fireball!

  A massive sphere of flame roared toward Tài, launched by the fox, now recovered.

  He turned too late…

  Minh teleported.

  In a flash of white, he appeared between Tài and the incoming fireball.

  The explosion engulfed him, the blast echoing through the broken zoo.

  “MINH!” Tài roared.

  Through the blaze, Minh’s silhouette staggered but still stood. Seeing his chance,

  Tài gritted his teeth and raised his weapon high. “Split Chop!

  He brought it down with all his strength.

  The blade struck true, cleaving into the dog’s chest.

  The beast was hurled backward, crashing hard.

  But then, it didn’t cry. It didn’t bleed.

  The gorilla behind them shuddered, bellowing in agony instead.

  The fox raised its hand again, knives swirling in the air, forming another deadly barrage.

  But Minh’s voice cut through the chaos “Boomerang!

  His spear twisted, its shaft bending mid air as if alive, reshaping into a crescent of steel light.

  Minh hurled it with all his strength.

  The spinning blade sliced through the air and struck the fox square in the chest.

  The rain of knives shattered mid-summon, vanishing into sparks.

  The fox stumbled back, clutching its wound, breathless.

  Tài looked at the gorilla, but this time, it didn’t flinch.

  No pain transferred. No shared wound.

  Tài helped Minh to his feet.

  Both swallowed a pill, their breaths still ragged as their spirit strength slowly steadied.

  Across the field, the gorilla, dog, and fox lined up again, their bodies tensing for another coordinated strike.

  Minh leaned close and whispered,

  “My boomerang didn’t deal much damage just broke their rhythm.

  And the gorilla didn’t take the pain this time.

  Looks like… he only bears it when his friends fall.”

  Tài whispered back,

  “So we hit the gorilla?”

  Minh shook his head.

  “He’s tough, too much defence.

  The dog’s fast. Draw their attention, keep them moving.”

  Tài gave a short nod.

  “Leave that to me. But that fox, his spells still hurt like hell.”

  Minh smiled faintly.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let him cast another.”

  The Chaos moved first.

  The fox raised its hand, but Minh’s boomerang was already in the air, spinning toward it.

  Forced to dodge, the fox broke its focus, no spell came.

  At the same time, the gorilla and dog lunged straight at Minh and Tài.

  But this time, Tài was ready.

  His mechanical arms flared with light as he caught the dog’s charge and deflected the gorilla’s crushing blow.

  Sparks burst from the impact, but he held his ground.

  Both Chaos beasts pressed hard, yet none could break through.

  The fox, left behind and guard less, hesitated.

  Minh saw the opening and smiled.

  Minh teleported behind the fox in a flash of light. “Stop Strike!”

  His spear struck true, the fox froze, body locked mid-motion. A perfect target.

  No hesitation. “Multi Thrust!”

  The spear blurred, stabbing forward again and again, every blow landing clean.

  But it wasn’t the fox that screamed.

  The gorilla howled in pain, muscles twisting as if every thrust had pierced its flesh instead.

  “That’s it!”

  Tài shouted.

  He slammed his shield forward, breaking the gorilla’s pressure, then hurled the staggering dog aside.

  The dog crashed to the ground, dazed.

  With one final surge, Tài leapt in.

  “Rush Slash!”

  His blade cut through air and fur alike, the dog hit the ground hard, and the gorilla dropped to one knee, roaring in agony.

  Both the fox and the dog were already marked, not bleeding, but tagged by Minh and Tài’s previous strikes.

  The gorilla was the only one in pain, its breath heavy and laboured.

  Minh met Tài’s eyes. They nodded once. No words needed.

  “Split Chop!” Tài roared, his blade cleaving down toward the dog.

  “Focus Strike!” Minh’s spear shot forward like lightning toward the fox.

  The gorilla’s eyes widened, it understood too late.

  Both attacks landed. Two howls tore through the zoo, one from the gorilla, one from the dog. The fox stumbled but survived.

  The gorilla threw itself forward, shielding the fox with its massive arms. Even in its agony, it chose to protect the last of its kind.

  No hesitation.

  Minh already knew, when the dog fell, it would trigger something, a final act to protect its allies.

  He couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Gathering the last of his spirit power, Minh roared, “Multi Thrust!”

  His spear became a storm of silver strikes, piercing through the air toward the fox.

  The fox, still off balance from the Focus Strike

  Each thrust landed clean, one after another, relentless.

  The gorilla howled in agony, trying to bear the pain for the fox, but this time it couldn’t.

  The fox screamed, its form flickering, then burst into motes of fading light. Defeated.

  Minh’s knees hit the ground; his energy drained completely.

  Tài ran to him, sword raised, standing guard as the last enemy still breathed.

  Minh’s fear came true.

  The dog and the fox let out a deafening cry, a sound that tore through the zoo like thunder.

  Minh and Tài clutched their ears, gritting their teeth, enduring the pain until the echoes faded.

  But when the noise died, another roar rose, deeper, heavier.

  The gorilla’s howl.

  It shook the ground, raw with fury and grief.

  Minh’s body trembled; his spirit was empty, his hands too heavy to lift.

  He could only watch.

  Tài stepped forward.

  Before him, the gorilla’s body glowed a deep, burning red, the color of pure anger.

  Now, it was just Tài.

  One man, one machine, facing the rage of their fallen friend, alone.

  “Hurry up!”

  Minh shouted, forcing the last spark of his mind power into a single spell.

  Light flared around Tài, speed, sharpened to perfection.

  He nodded, feeling not just the power, but Minh’s trust burning within it.

  The gorilla charged, fury shaking the ground.

  Tài met it head-on.

  He knew brute force wouldn’t work, its defence was too high.

  But he had something that could pierce through.

  “Laser!” A beam of searing light shot from his arm, striking the gorilla square in the chest.

  The monster staggered but didn’t stop. It roared and lunged again.

  Tài darted aside, faster than before, another beam flashing from his arm.

  Then another. And another.

  The zoo filled with bursts of light as Tài circled, firing without rest, each shot carving away at the gorilla’s endurance, and at his own.

  Tài’s breath grew ragged.

  The light from his eyes dimmed, his mind power drained to nothing.

  The next laser failed to form, leaving only a hollow flicker in the air.

  He stopped moving in circles.

  No more distance, no more tricks.

  Just him and the beast.

  The gorilla’s hide still smoked from earlier burns, but it didn’t care.

  It lumbered forward, believing the fight already over.

  Tài drew the blade again, not of power, but of will.

  The laser sword shimmered weakly, barely holding its form.

  He met the gorilla’s punch head-on.

  The impact sent him to one knee.

  The world spun.

  But through the haze, he saw it, the wound carved deep across the beast’s chest.

  The gorilla staggered back, eyes wide, its first taste of fear.

  Tài didn’t stop to think.

  He rose with trembling legs and charged.

  The beast turned to flee, but exhaustion made it clumsy.

  His blade cut through its knee, and the creature fell, screaming into the dust.

  When it stopped moving, Tài just stood there, chest heaving, hands shaking, his reflection still glowing faintly on the edge of the dying blade.

  As the four Chaos vanished, the zoo dissolved with them, the cages, the cracked tiles, even the sky folded away like smoke.

  Phúc’s domain shifted.

  Tài raised his guard instinctively, but Minh just exhaled and lowered his hands.

  “Relax, Tài,” he said quietly.

  “We’ve entered the true mind of Phúc.”

  Tài glanced over.

  Minh was back in his normal clothes, no armoured, no glow, just himself.

  He sat down on the cold ground, calm as if the battle had never happened.

  Tài hesitated, then dropped his stance too and sat beside him.

  “You killed me,” Tài said, half-joking, half-weary.

  Minh smirked. “You forced me to die first.”

  They both laughed, a dry, tired laugh that didn’t sound like victory.

  After a pause, Tài frowned.

  “I still don’t understand… why did Phúc imagine us like that?”

  Minh looked into the shifting fog around them.

  “That’s how he sees us. I was a dog, not weak, but loyal, dumb maybe.

  You were a fox, clever, but fragile.”

  He sighed.

  “And Linh… we finished her too fast.

  I can’t even guess what he truly thinks of her.”

  Tài crossed his arms.

  “I was the one who defeated him… and yet he still thinks I’m weak?”

  Minh gave a faint smile.

  “Yeah. That’s how he sees us. Lovely, isn’t it?”

  Tài snorted.

  “Typical Phúc. Always judging in his own way.

  Still, looks like he liked me better than you.

  Back there, he chose to guard me, not you.”

  Minh looked down, eyes dim.

  “I let him down too many times.

  But that idiot still tried to protect me.”

  For a moment, neither spoke.

  The ground beneath them began to ripple, the false zoo peeling away, layer by layer.

  The air thickened with colour, light, and memory.

  Tài glanced around.

  “Now what?”

  Minh slowly rose to his feet.

  “Now… we rescue that chimpanzee.”

  A soft voice answered, one they both recognized.

  “Try me,” Phúc said.

  The domain had finished shifting. Phúc was here.