I had made it halfway across the second floor before the dread dulled just enough for me to feel the strength in my limbs again. Whatever had changed in me—this strange, invisible enhancement—I was finally beginning to adjust to it. My balance had sharpened. My breath came easier. The sword moved with me now, instead of against me.
It felt… good.
No, more than good. Powerful.
Maybe it was adrenaline. Maybe something deeper. Either way, the silence no longer paralyzed me. I could hear my footsteps echo across the luminous chamber, the vast space still eerily empty. There were no monsters like before. No tentacled beasts. Just cold air and a long path ahead.
The third-floor entrance loomed across the room like a wound in the stone. A wide archway that pulsed faintly with some strange inner light. But unlike the others, it wasn't hidden. It stood fully visible—as if inviting me.
That made it worse.
I stared at it too long, nerves crawling. The open layout of this floor offered no cover, no safety. Just exposure. The ceiling was too high, the walls too wide. I felt like prey walking into a trap I couldn't see.
I'd crept slowly so far, keeping to the pillars. Step by step. Breath by breath.
But that started to gnaw at me. The stillness. The emptiness. The waiting.
It was driving me mad.
What if that's the point? I thought.
What if this floor wasn't meant to kill me with claws or fangs, but with silence and space and waiting?
I looked at the bottle tucked in my pocket. The glowing potion I'd looted earlier. I still didn't know what it did, but I had one card left to play. One shot, if things went to hell.
Enough of this.
If I kept going slow, I'd die from the inside out. Madness was death, too. I could feel it nipping at the edge of my mind.
So I gritted my teeth and did the stupidest thing I could think of.
I ran.
Straight toward the stairs.
Sword clutched in my hand. Eyes fixed forward. No more hiding.
And that's when the floor began to move.
At first, I thought it was a trick of the light. A vibration maybe. But no. The chamber itself twisted. Walls bent inward. The smooth path beneath me cracked and lifted. Pillars groaned and shifted, stone dragging against stone with an awful, grinding shriek that filled the silence like a scream.
The floor wasn't a floor.
It was alive.
It reacted to my speed, to my decision. Like it had waited for me to move with purpose—and punished me for it.
I ran faster, legs burning, heart hammering.
The opening to the third floor drew closer. I was almost there.
Twenty feet.
Ten—
Then I slammed into it.
Hard.
An invisible wall sent me crashing back onto the stone. I gasped, pain blooming in my ribs as I struggled to breathe.
"What the hell!?" I shouted, coughing.
I crawled to my feet and pounded my fist against the air. Nothing but invisible resistance. Solid. Unbreakable. No shimmer. No sound. Just a wall that wasn't there until it needed to be.
The ground behind me continued to groan. The space began to contract. Columns bent inward. The ceiling crept lower. Like the room itself was closing in.
Like it wanted to crush me.
I screamed in desperation and swung my sword at the barrier.
Once. Twice.
Over and over.
Each strike sparked uselessly against the air. Nothing. No crack. No feedback. Just futility.
"Come on!" I shouted, voice hoarse. "Let me through, dammit!"
The temperature dropped. My breath fogged up the space in front of me. The air thickened. My chest heaved.
My thoughts spiraled.
I'm going to die here. Trapped. Alone. In a room that wants to bury me.
I turned wildly, eyes searching the walls, the ceiling, the floor—anything for a clue. And that's when I saw it.
Above the barrier, carved into the stone—nearly blended into the rock—was a face.
No eyes.
No mouth.
Just the shape of a human-like face, smooth and eerily featureless, sunken into the wall like it had been watching from the beginning.
"What is this?" I breathed.
No markings. No symbols. No buttons.
Just a face.
That's not enough!
I turned back to the barrier and pressed both palms against it, trying to force my way through. The cave screamed again behind me as the walls continued their slow crawl inward.
Stone creaked.
Cracks split across the floor.
I could feel the pressure.
The weight.
It was going to crush me.
I backed against the invisible wall, sword raised like it could save me from a collapsing world.
"I don't want to die like this!" I shouted. "Just send me back! Back to my world! Back to the fire, the classroom—I don't care!"
The ceiling groaned above. A crack split open just feet from me. Dust rained down.
I closed my eyes.
Tight.
Waiting for the impact. For the bone-snapping weight. For the end.
And then—nothing.
No sound.
No pressure.
No pain.
I opened one eye cautiously.
The barrier was… gone.
Just gone.
The archway to the third floor stood open, unguarded. The walls around me stopped moving.
I looked back at the stone face—but it hadn't changed.
My mind raced.
It only disappeared when I closed my eyes.
"Are you serious?" I muttered, shaking.
The floor wasn't just alive.
It was testing me.
I'd stared at every problem like a fight, a wall to break through. But this wasn't about strength.
It was about trust.
About letting go.
I took one last look at the second floor—the silence, the space, the impossible design—and whispered, "I hate this place."
Then I stepped through the archway, sword still gripped tight.
And the darkness welcomed me again.