Kai stood on the rooftop of his apartment complex, the night air sharp against his skin.
Below him, the city pulsed with normalcy—lights, cars, the distant murmur of conversations. A thousand lives moving forward as if nothing was wrong.
Was he the only one seeing the cracks?
He could stop now. Forget the files. Pretend nothing happened. Play dumb, go to class, smile during roll call, study for tests.
Live the life they wanted him to.
Or…
He looked down at the spiral etched on the flash drive in his pocket.
Or he could dig.
Even if it buried him.
He met Ren again, this time behind the gym building, where the cameras never reached.
"I need to know everything," Kai said.
"You won't come back the same."
"I don't care."
Ren studied him. For a moment, it looked like he might walk away. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out an old, dog-eared notebook.
"This is all I've got. Things I've seen. Things I've remembered after they erased them."
Kai opened it. Inside: drawings of rooms that didn't exist, faces without eyes, notes in half-deciphered ciphers.
And at the very end—a phrase repeated over and over:
"Follow the spiral down."
That evening, Kai did something simple but decisive.
He didn't go to sleep.
He waited until 3:00 a.m. and snuck back into the school.
He bypassed the side door with a magnet key. Entered the second-floor corridor. Counted five doors from the stairwell.
The counselor's office.
He stepped inside.
The pendulum was still there—motionless now. The blinds were drawn.
On the wall behind the bookshelf, he found a seam. A hidden edge. He pressed it.
Click.
A panel slid open, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
No signs. No lights. No cameras.
Only cold air and the scent of damp stone.
He stared at the opening.
His hands were shaking.
But he stepped forward anyway.
As he descended, his phone screen flickered to life on its own.
Warning: This path is irreversible.
[Proceed] [Turn Back]
He touched the screen.
Proceed.
The moment he made the choice, something behind him closed with a metallic snap.
The staircase lit up—dim red lights pulsing like a heartbeat.
And far below, a door opened on its own.
At the bottom of the stairs, he found a hallway lined with lockers—but they were older, rusted, tagged with names that didn't match any current students.
Some had dates on them.
Others had symbols.
The spiral appeared again and again.
He passed one that made him stop:
KAI H.
Phase 1 Complete
His mouth went dry.
But he walked past it.
And through the open door at the end of the hall—into the part of the school that wasn't on any map, wasn't in any memory, and wasn't meant to be seen.
He didn't hesitate.