The white light doesn’t fade when I step into it.
It closes.
Not like a door—but like skin sealing over a wound.
The air shifts instantly, warmer, heavier, wrapping around me in a way that makes my breath catch. When my vision clears, I’m no longer in stone corridors or glowing chambers.
I’m standing in a vast, open space beneath a night sky that isn’t real.
Stars burn too brightly overhead, clustered thick and low, as if the heavens have dropped closer just to watch. The ground beneath my feet is smooth and dark, reflecting the starlight like black glass.
I’m alone.
The realization is sharp, but not frightening.
If anything, the quiet feels… intentional.
I take a slow step forward. The sound of my bare feet echoes softly, rippling across the surface beneath me. With each movement
