I pushed open a heavy, unmarked door.
Inside, the world was dimly lit; dust hung in the air along with an indescribable, musty smell. Something strange pressed against my foot. I looked down reflexively — my heart stopped for a moment — a human head lay quietly at my feet.
The skin was a lifeless gray-white, the eyes tightly shut, hair splayed across the floor. My gaze tried to ignore the nauseating object; I forced myself to look ahead.
Outside the window directly in front of me, another head came into view in an even more grotesque posture — it had been sliced open horizontally and hung upside down, like some carelessly discarded ornament.
Where was I? I didn't know.
A nameless force drove me. I bent and picked up the head at my feet. It felt cold and stiff.
No sound came from its mouth, but a clear thought — urgent and filled with resentment — exploded inside my mind.
"Avenge me."
"This place is dangerous."
"Run!"
The three messages stabbed my nerves like ice picks. Strangely, the "Run!" felt filtered and quickly dissolved; only the four words "Avenge me," searing hot, engraved themselves deep into my consciousness. Revenge became the single, unmistakable command.
I gently set the head back in place, as if performing some ritual. Then I stepped forward and at last could make out my surroundings. It was an extremely spacious interior, like a long-abandoned school corridor or a hospital waiting area — silent except for the echo of my footsteps. Dim lights flickered overhead, casting wavering shadows. Countless intersections and doorways stretched into darkness like a vast labyrinth. The ceiling soared high, turning the many branching corridors and closed doors into vague silhouettes. Dead silence was the only motif here.