I dug my fingers into the rough, uneven bricks and kept climbing.

Each movement scraped at my palms, but I didn't stop. The rope tied to the luminous stone hung from my mouth, swinging slightly as I pulled myself higher through the suffocating dark.

The faint light from the stone was the only thing keeping the shadows at bay—just a trembling halo of gold against an endless black void.

My breathing echoed harshly in the cramped silence.

What kind of ordeal is this, anyway?

No matter how strange this place was, one thing was certain—it wasn't reality.

If it were, my arms would have given out long ago. My legs should've been shaking, my lungs burning. Yet all I felt was a dull, hollow exhaustion—not of the body, but of the mind.

A dream.

This was someone's dream.

But whose?

And more importantly… what kind of dream was this supposed to be?

The thought circled my mind like a moth to flame as I climbed, hands and feet moving in rhythm.

Then, after what felt like forever, a faint glimmer appeared above me—a thin crack of light cutting through the darkness.

My chest tightened.

"I can see it…" I murmured under my breath. "The end."

Biting down on the rope, I forced my trembling arms to keep going. Every inch upward felt heavier than the last, but I refused to stop now.

Finally, with one last pull, I reached out—and my fingers brushed something smooth and solid.

Wood.

The ceiling wasn't made of stone at all, but thick wooden planks.

"What the hell? Then what was that void? And how the hell rock disappeared?"

I had so many questions but unfortunately I couldn't get the answer of anyone of them.

So I shifted my focus, and looked around my surroundings.

I don't have time to waste on unsolved question which I don't have answer.

Anyways.

The faint glow that had seeped through the cracks above me was stronger now, outlining the rough edges of the ceiling.

Click.

When I pressed upward with my hand, the panel gave way far more easily than I expected. I blinked, surprised, then carefully pushed it aside until it slid open with a dull thud as it fell to the floor above.

A small gust of stale air brushed my face. I hesitated for a second before slowly lifting my head through the opening.

"…Another room?"

That's what it looked like—another enclosed space, similar to the one I'd just escaped. For a brief, foolish moment, I'd hoped this would lead outside, maybe to fresh air or daylight. Instead, I found myself staring at yet another dim, confined area.

I climbed up, grumbling under my breath as I dusted off my hands. "This is starting to feel like a bad joke."

The room was silent, almost oppressively so. The air felt heavier here, like it hadn't been disturbed in ages. The light came from a few glowing stones embedded in the walls, faint and cold, illuminating only what was necessary.

There wasn't much inside—bare stone walls, the faint scent of dust, and three doors standing side by side on the far end.

Three identical doors.

I sighed quietly. "Of course there are three."

I studied them for a moment, hoping for some sort of hint—a scratch mark, footprints, even a breeze leaking through a crack. But there was nothing. Each door stood perfectly still, silent and unhelpful.

'...I have no idea.'

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Figures. Not even a clue."

After a long moment of pointless thinking, I exhaled sharply.

"When in doubt, pick number one," I muttered—the age-old logic of gamblers and fools.

I stepped toward the leftmost door, grasped the cold handle, and pushed it open.

The hinges creaked like something long forgotten, and beyond it…

Darkness again.

But this time, I felt something—like the faint hum of magic pulsing through the air, whispering just beyond the threshold.

"…Well," I said quietly, taking a step forward, "let's see where this one leads."

And with that, I disappeared through the door.

*

No matter how I look at it, something's off.

"What kind of structure is this place?" I muttered under my breath.

Since stepping through the first door, I'd been walking down what felt like an endless corridor. A straight, narrow passage stretching on and on without a single turn.

There was nothing remarkable about it either—no branching paths, no strange mechanisms, not even the faint hum of magic. Just the same monotonous stone walls lined with old, faded paintings.

The only things breaking the dullness were those eerie portraits—faces half-lost to time, yet somehow watching me as I passed.

Still, no other exits. No doors. No cracks in the wall. Not even a draft of air.

"Should I go back…?" I murmured, glancing over my shoulder.

This had to be a dead end. Maybe I'd chosen the wrong door.

Of the three entrances, the first one I picked might've been a trap.

I turned on my heel, ready to retrace my steps—

"Wait."

Something didn't feel right.

I froze mid-step, my gaze drawn to one of the larger paintings on the wall.

A man riding across a wide open plain under a blazing sun.

It was strikingly familiar—too familiar.

My brows furrowed as I scanned the surroundings again. The tile pattern on the wall. The arrangement of the shelves. The placement of the vases.

No… this wasn't déjà vu.

This was the exact same corridor I had already walked through.

I looked back again, heart beginning to race.

Everything—the paintings, the floor cracks, even the faint stain near the corner—was identical.

"This is… where I just came from," I muttered, my voice echoing faintly off the walls.

I slowly turned in a circle, scanning every inch of the hallway.

No matter which direction I looked, it was the same.

An endless loop.

The realization settled heavily in my chest.

I wasn't moving forward at all.

I'd been walking in circles… trapped inside a corridor that led nowhere.

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