The darkness enveloped him like a living creature. Mikhail closed his eyes, bracing himself for whatever might come. A few seconds passed, and all the sensations—the fear, the panic, the racing heartbeat—felt suffocating, almost unbearable.
Then, as quickly as the darkness had swallowed him, it all vanished. The oppressive emptiness, the endless spiral, the silence—suddenly vanished. Mikhail opened his eyes. The blue torches on the spiral staircase were back on, casting a soft, steady light onto the stone walls. He could feel the cold fading, replaced by the tangible, familiar weight of the hall around him.
He tapped frantically on the walls, but the stone remained solid, unmoving. Anxiety threatened to return, but he took a deep breath, calming himself. With newly gathered courage, he turned back toward the great hall.
Step by step, Mikhail returned to the vast blue room. The rows of chairs remained neatly arranged, the statues stood still as before. Everything seemed normal, too normal, and it felt strange. But the echo of the voice he had heard, and the shadow of the darkness, remained etched in his mind. It reminded him that this place was far from ordinary.
Mikhail stopped at the threshold of the hall, his heart still pounding. Whatever had happened in that darkness, whatever had tried to trap him in the void, he had survived. And for the first time, he realized one thing: he could face this place, delve into its mysteries, and perhaps even control his own fear.
Mikhail stepped slowly in front of the statue, his breathing still somewhat labored after the darkness and the endless spiraling hallway. He stood a few steps away from the massive statue, eyeing it warily. At first glance, there was nothing unusual. The statue's face was stern, dignified, yet radiating kindness and generosity, as if welcoming anyone who approached. Mikhail assessed every detail, trying to understand the expression carved into the stone.
Suddenly, the statue smiled. It was… alive. Staring right at him.
Mikhail was shocked. His heart pounded, his breath hitched.
"Finally, you didn't run," the voice echoed, coming from the statue's mouth.
Mikhail took a few steps back, terrified. The voice was real, and the statue he had always thought was just stone… spoke.
"Don't worry," the statue said, its voice soft but authoritative.
But Mikhail, being a child and having never seen anything like this, crouched down, trembling, and terrified. His body shook violently, and tears threatened to fall. He wanted to run, but his legs felt heavy, as if the ground itself was holding him back. Unable to hold on, he fell backward.
"Calm down… before that, I'll continue," the statue replied, still in a calm tone that strangely soothed some of his fears. "I'll give you three chances to ask questions," the statue continued. "Every question you ask will be answered. You can ask anything, anything you want to know. But there's a price. Each chance carries one lucky, one unlucky, and one random. These prices are not yours to choose; they will be determined randomly."
Mikhail stared at the statue, shocked and confused. His head spun, trying to comprehend this strange rule. Fear still gripped him, "NO, I DON'T WANT TO ASK. GET ME OUT OF HERE."
Billy just smiled. "Answers don't always come all at once, Mikhail. But every question you ask opens a door… though sometimes it's a scary one."
"No… I… I want to go out!" his voice almost choked with fear.
"The door will open… if you just ask one chance," Billy said in a soft but controlled voice.
What does all this mean? And… should I take this chance? Mikhail thought for a moment. He wanted to know the truth about his parents, or about the writings in the scriptura, or about his nightmares. But there was something more important: why had all this strangeness suddenly appeared in his life? He had been living normally before… and then everything had just changed.
Finally, with a trembling voice, he asked, "Why have strangeness begun to appear in my life?" Billy stared at him. "Is that what you want to ask?"
"Yes," Mikhail replied curtly.
"The question has been accepted." Billy said.
The book in the statue's hand floated toward Mikhail. It was wide open, but from a distance, Mikhail saw only blank pages. "Put your finger to the page," Billy commanded. Mikhail hesitated. His hand was shaking violently, his body still trembling with fear. But finally, with bated breath, he put his finger to the paper.
Instantly, a mist of dark and light blue rose from the surface of the book, enveloping his finger, bringing with it a strange feeling, calm, yet heavy with mystery. Then, on the pages of the book, writing began to appear slowly, as if scrawled by an invisible hand:
'He is controlling your fate. 'He' is changing your fate, two authorities collide. Until two things come, changes in fate will occur frequently. First, a person with the same fate. Second, when 'He' will call your name.'
Mikhail stared at the writing, his heart pounding. The words felt alive, vibrating in his mind, whispering mysteries he had never imagined. The world around him remained silent, but it was as if the room itself awaited his next move.
His body trembled violently, but not only from fear. There was a strange curiosity, a magnet pulling at his mind, as if forcing him to understand. "Two authorities… call me… a person with the same fate…" he murmured softly, his voice almost drowned out by the silence of the hall.
His body tensed, and tears threatened to fall, but not only from fear. There was a mixture of fear and something deeper: curiosity, a drive to know the truth, to unravel the mystery that had haunted him.
Mikhail slowly pulled his finger from the page. The blue mist slowly dissipated, but the strange feeling lingered in his mind, like an echo that wouldn't go away. He looked down at Billy's statue. "What does this mean? Who is 'He'? And why... me?"
Billy just smiled. "Is that your second question?" Mikhail glanced back at the statue, but Billy only smiled calmly, as if he had never been angry or disturbed. Mikhail's body was still trembling violently, his chest heaving, and cold sweat dripped down his forehead. He swallowed hard, looked down, and nearly became hysterical. "No... I... I want to get out!" His voice was almost choked with fear.
Suddenly, the entire hall vibrated subtly. The stones on the floor and walls hummed with a low, whispering sound that rippled through the space. The vibration wasn't a threat, but a reminder that this place was alive, with a will of its own.
Billy looked at Mikhail calmly. "The door is open," he said, his voice soft but audible throughout the room. "You can leave now."
Mikhail looked around, hesitant. The hall, which had felt intimidating earlier, now felt… silent, peaceful, and strangely calming. The blue light from the torches hanging on the walls reflected gently off the floor, giving him enough visibility to find the door.
With shaky steps, Mikhail stood, took a deep breath, and began walking toward the door that slowly came into view at the end of the hall. The stones vibrated around him, but no longer as a warning, but as an accompaniment to his steps.
Each step felt like it melted away the fear clinging to his body. His heart was still pounding, and his mind was filled with unanswered questions—about "He," about the two colliding authorities, about himself. But the most important thing now was… getting out of that hall.
As he passed through the door, the blue light faded slowly, and Billy's voice became faint, but still audible in his ears: "Remember, Mikhail... answers always come to those who dare to ask."
And then, Mikhail stepped into the dormitory corridor. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, the sound of students walking through the hallways was clear, the air felt fresh on his face. The real world felt real again, safe, and familiar.
He paused, took a deep breath, and looked around. The mysterious hall, the talking statue, and the blue mist... all of it was now behind him. But deep in his heart, he knew one thing: the mystery wasn't over. Something from there still called to him, and someday, he might have to return.
Mikhail wiped his face, calming himself, and slowly climbed the spiral staircase, leaving the blue hall behind for the time being. The sound and vibration of the stone lingered in his mind, a reminder, or perhaps a promise, that this journey had only just begun.
After a while of climbing the stairs, a corridor that began to look familiar slowly emerged. Daylight filtered through the windows, reflecting on the same floor he always walked. It was none other than the dormitory corridor.
When he looked back, he saw that everything had returned to normal. The eerie liquid on the painting, the trembling walls, and the gap leading to the spiral staircase were all gone. There was nothing strange about the painting or the wall anymore. The blue hall, the Billy statue, and the mysterious fog were now as if they had never existed.
Mikhail took a deep breath, calming his still-rapid heartbeat. Although the tension had subsided, a feeling of curiosity lingered in his mind. The mystery he had experienced today was only the beginning of something greater, something waiting to be discovered.
With slow steps, he continued his journey down the dormitory corridor, letting his fear and curiosity wrestle silently.