"The fog remembers you."
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The fog was thick.
Too thick.
Not from moisture — but from presence.
As if something lived inside it.
Something that shouldn't be seen.
Elis woke up lying on a cold, smooth surface.
His breath trembled. His mind was blank.
He didn't know how long he had been there.
He didn't even know where "there" was.
Beneath his fingertips — stone.
Cold, damp, and silent.
But under the stone… a faint, rhythmic pulse.
As if something alive was breathing deep underground.
He sat up, clutching his temples.
The pounding in his head wasn't pain —
…it was silence.
Not ordinary silence.
The dense, sticky kind that presses against your skull,
…the silence of things left unsaid.
He looked around.
In front of him — nothing.
Behind him — the same.
Only fog.
Endless, suffocating fog.
A curtain between reality and whatever lies after.
No trees.
No sky.
Not even a horizon.
Only shifting shadows hiding inside the mist…
…or watching from it.
Then — he saw it.
A sphere.
Glass. Perfectly smooth.
Too flawless to exist.
Inside it… a faint light pulsed.
Not in the rhythm of a heart.
But in sync with the rhythm of his thoughts.
When he wondered, "What is this?" — the sphere flashed.
When he tried to stand — the light dimmed.
He touched it. Warm. Softer than glass should be.
And then — space itself shifted.
Not the sphere.
Not Elis.
Space.
The fog slid aside, dissolving like smoke under a breath.
Behind it — a doorway.
Ancient stone, carved with runes.
Thirteen symbols.
None familiar.
Yet somehow… each one his.
He knew them.
Didn't know how.
But he knew.
The sphere rolled toward the doorway.
On its own.
It stopped when it touched the stone.
The light inside pulsed in sharp rhythm: 00:07:13:13.
A number.
A code? A countdown?
And then — a whisper.
Not from anyone.
From the silence itself.
"You weren't supposed to be here yet."
Elis froze.
His breath caught in his throat.
He spun around.
Nothing.
He looked back at the door.
The runes were gone.
Only his reflection remained on the stone.
But it wasn't his face.
His eyes were darker.
Too deep. Too old.
And behind him — another doorway.
Beyond it… another sphere.
Inside that one, his shadow.
But it didn't move when he moved.
It didn't mimic him.
It was… watching him.
From inside.
Elis stood between two realities —
One he could see,
And one that could see him.
Neither felt real.
At the top of the doorway,
a single rune ignited by itself.
Not with fire — but with a white, cold light.
An absence of all color.
The air trembled.
The silence deepened.
Too deep.
The sphere released a tone —
Not music.
Something deeper.
A resonance from within.
The doors opened without a sound.
No invitation.
No warning.
Just the presence of emptiness beyond.
Elis stepped inside.
And the darkness swallowed him whole.
To be continued…