(Collapse Level: somewhere between "I need a hug" and "the universe is stalking me")
And I stepped in.Like someone pushing a door without knowing if there's floor on the other side.Because of course, when life throws a pyramid at you that smells like "you're going to regret this,"the logical response is:"Well… I didn't plan on dying today. But I'm flexible."
The darkness wasn't just lack of light.It had texture.The existential consistency of a nightmare given form.Like walking into the mouth of a sleeping god......one that snores with resentment.
Each step echoed.But not your classic "cinematic adventure echo."No.An echo with delay, with bitterness, with its own damn agenda.Like something was repeating my steps—But with less patience and more hunger.
And yes, the hallway sloped down.Because happy places don't have stairs that sound like fractured bones under every footstep.(It's basic emotional science.)
The walls: symbols.Not Egyptian.Not alien.Symbols with the passive-aggressive energy of an ex who still has your Netflix password.They moved when I wasn't looking.You blinked and BAM, they shifted like someone playing Tetris with your neurons.
And just as my brain began to surrender, it appeared.
The room.
Square.Silent.The kind of silence that doesn't comfort you — it evaluates you.
At the far end: a low altar.On it: something covered by a cloth so dusty it probably had its own biography.
And if you've seen at least three horror movies in your life, you know this rule:If it's covered, DON'T uncover it.Naturally… I uncovered it.
It wasn't a mummy.Or a glowing skull.Or a curse rolled in papyrus.
It was a book.Dry leather.Covered in braided hair.Yes. Hair. Braided.Color: trauma with undertones of "run while you can."
On the cover, burned into the hide:DM
What did it stand for?Doom Manifested?Mystical Depression?Death, Maybe?
I opened it.Because that's who I am.I'm the living rule-breaker who sees "DO NOT TOUCH" and turns it into "TOUCH AND READ DRAMATICALLY WITH A SOUNDTRACK."
The pages were a masterclass in illustrated trauma.
"The Eye was not created.It was abandoned.Sealed with fragments accidentally stolen.Four returned.The others… hid from the universe."
Drawings of floating stones.Symbols I'd seen tattooed in the flesh of ancient corpses.The kind that don't show up in official records but love guest-starring in my nightmares.
And at the end, a warning written in the penmanship of someone who collapsed—but with style:
"Touch one… the others will know where you are."
I laughed.Not because it was funny.But because I was already too deep in to not appreciate the cosmic drama.
And then I saw it.
On the back wall.Between the cracks.Glowing with the arrogance of a final-season spoiler:
A diamond.
But not the jewelry-store kind.A living thing.Breathing from within.Embedded, like someone had shoved it there with panic and purpose.
It turned.Inside: a floating symbol.
My body decided to touch it before my brain could scream:"Terrible idea. Apocalypse-level mistake."
And I touched it.Because why seek therapy when you can unlock visions personally sponsored by the Abyssal Eye?
The world cracked open like a .zip file of madness.
It projected into my mind in 4K quality:Statues screaming without mouths.A dried-up pharaoh weeping from within.Fire that spoke.And in the middle…THE EYE.
Not a sketch.Not a metaphor.A real eye.Massive.Staring.Hungry.
And then…it blinked.
Naturally, I fell backward.No one maintains composure when architecture starts making eye contact.
The book fell too.And from the diamond, letters floated upward.Three, exactly:R – E – N
"Ren... Renji?"
It wasn't a voice.It was a certainty.Not a message.A cosmic spoiler with my full name.
The Eye stared from the wall.As if it had been waiting.As if it now knew exactly who I was.And had just starred me on its list of"This one. Bring him."
And then I felt it.Not heard.Not read.Felt.Carved into my soul with letters made of fire that doesn't go out with water:
"One touched.One called.One opened."
And I said the only thing that made sense at that point:
"I'm so screwed, even the air is judging me."