The next morning, when Duy An woke up in his familiar dorm room, the feeling of exhaustion still weighed heavily on every muscle. Dried blood stained his lips, and his clothes from last night still bore unsettling marks. He dragged himself to the bathroom, washing away the traces of the invisible battle, and looked at his face in the mirror. Under the pale fluorescent light, his face was ashen, dark circles under his eyes, and his gaze still held a lingering weariness and hauntedness. But deep down, something had changed. An felt a sharper edge, a new awareness of the world around him.
The Memory Crystal necklace lay on the table, its crystal having returned to its inherent sparkle, as if it had been fully recharged. An picked it up, feeling a cool surge of energy transfer into his hand, soothing the lingering headache. It was no longer an unfamiliar item, but an extension of himself.
Although he had sealed the Shadow Demon, Thanh Lam's words still echoed in An's mind: "It's still there. And it will always find other ways. To truly free them, you still need to find out what really happened, and resolve My Tam's deep-seated resentment."
An knew that he couldn't return to his normal life. The world had changed. He had changed. The mission to free My Tam, Dr. Minh, and Nguyen Duc Duy was not just a responsibility, but had become a haunting obsession.
That day, An tried to resume his daily routine. He attended classes, but his mind constantly wandered. He looked at his friends, at his lecturers, and realized that they were living behind a veil, completely unaware of the horrifying world lurking beneath the ordinary facade. A sudden wave of loneliness washed over him.
During the break, Hong Anh approached An, her face filled with worry. "An, are you still okay? You've seemed completely out of it all day today. Did something happen last night?"
An looked into Hong Anh's concerned eyes. He wanted to tell her everything, to share this burden. But then he remembered Thanh Lam's words. This was a world he couldn't drag others into, especially those he cared about. "I... I'm fine, Hong Anh. I guess I just stayed up too late studying." He forced another weak smile, one that couldn't hide the weariness and mystery in his eyes.
Hong Anh wasn't convinced. She knew An was hiding something. But she didn't press him. She just sighed, then gently placed a carton of milk on his desk. "Make sure you eat well. You look so pale."
An felt a pang of guilt. He knew Hong Anh was worried about him. But he couldn't.
That night, sleep came with difficulty for An. He was constantly plagued by nightmares. This time, it wasn't the truck or the mirror stains. He found himself lost in a dark, cold labyrinth, with damp concrete walls and endless corridors. The strong, nauseating smell of a hospital permeated the air. Moans, whispers, and mournful cries echoed from every corner.
And then, he saw My Tam. The chrysanthemum girl. She was no longer lying motionless on the hospital bed. She was standing in the middle of a corridor, her long black hair flowing down, her figure ethereal like mist. She wasn't looking at An, but into the distance, as if searching for something. The withered white chrysanthemum still lay in her hand.
"Wait... wait..." An tried to call out, but no sound escaped. He wanted to get closer to her, wanted to ask her what had happened, what kept her from finding peace.
But then, My Tam began to move. She walked along the corridor, her bare feet gently touching the cold floor. An followed, trying to catch up. He saw her turn into another corridor, then another, sinking deeper into the hospital's maze.
Suddenly, An saw a door. An old, rusty steel door, with faint, illegible writing on it. An couldn't read it clearly, but he felt a bone-chilling cold emanating from behind the door.
My Tam stopped in front of that door. She turned her head, her empty eyes staring directly at An. And then, a slender, pale finger slowly rose, pointing at the door.
The door... where... death began...
A whisper echoed in An's mind, not My Tam's voice, but another, hoarse and distant.
Then An woke up. He shot up, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. Morning sunlight already filtered through the window, but the chilling sensation from the dream still clung to him.
The door. This dream was definitely a clue. My Tam was trying to lead him somewhere. Where "death began." Could it be where Dr. Minh was murdered? Or somewhere else more significant?
An took out his phone, opening the map of Hospital X. He began searching for an old, possibly abandoned area, perhaps the basement, where there might be a steel door. He recalled what he had read about the case: Dr. Minh was murdered in his office, but his body was horribly disfigured. Perhaps the case wasn't just a simple on-the-spot murder.
Faint, illegible writing on the door. An tried to remember, but couldn't. It was too blurry. But he knew, he had to find that door.
An felt a strong urge. This dream was My Tam's guidance, a continuation of the memories he had felt. He had to go back to Hospital X. Once again.