Narrative Monologue (Opening):
"Every sound has a shadow. Every step leaves an imprint on the world, even if you cannot see it. Some echoes linger, waiting for the ones who dare to listen. And the Door… the Door remembers everything. It watches, it whispers, it chooses who may pass—and who will remain lost in the silence forever."
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The chamber stretched before Lullaby like a cavern of suspended time. Shadows pooled in corners, and golden veins of the Door snaked across the walls, flickering with an erratic rhythm, hesitant to reveal the truth. The orb floated near him, its chimes tense, vibrating with barely restrained urgency.
Lullaby's footsteps echoed faintly, but not entirely. Some sounds were swallowed by the air itself, as though the room consumed noise before it could escape. He shivered, pressing a gloved hand against the cold wall. The veins of the Door pulsed beneath his fingers, and he felt a faint heartbeat—alive, or echoing a life long gone.
"Is… someone here?" he whispered. The words barely passed his visor, swallowed by the chamber. Yet, the golden veins pulsed faster, almost in rhythm with his own racing pulse.
A low hum rose from the shadows. Not mechanical, not entirely natural. It was as if the room remembered every whisper ever spoken—and now recalled them all at once. Shapes flickered at the edges of his vision, figures of shadow and light, flickering like candle flames.
One moved closer. Its form was vaguely humanoid, warped—elongated limbs, hollow amber eyes, a presence that repelled and beckoned all at once. The orb surged forward, a shield of glowing light, its chimes slicing through the silence like sharp wind.
The figure stopped at a distance. Silent. Yet its meaning was undeniable. Lullaby understood without words: "Curiosity brings you here, but not all doors lead back."
The chamber shifted suddenly. Walls groaned. Golden veins stretched, revealing a corridor where none had existed. Shadows moved like liquid around the edges, leaving a faintly illuminated path. Lullaby hesitated. Every instinct screamed caution—but the next step could change everything.
He exhaled. "I have to see…" The orb pulsed once, then steadied, granting silent consent.
Step by step, he followed the newly revealed corridor. Shadows whispered secrets, half-formed memories of those who had walked here before. The chamber seemed endless, pressing in on him all at once.
At the far end, a metallic archway shimmered. Through it, he glimpsed something vast and impossible: golden veins weaving into patterns that suggested eyes, mouths, and faces. Deep within, a faint pulse—like a heartbeat—matched his own.
Lullaby swallowed. Salvation or doom? He couldn't tell. Only that the Door had chosen to reveal this to him.
And behind the veins, something waited—patient, alive, and fully aware of his presence.
The echo of his steps lingered in the chamber, but the Door… the Door remembered. And it was only beginning to speak.