The Watching Shadow
First, beyond the door, I stopped the mana waves. Of course, by slowing the cycle so that the mana replenishing outpaced what I was expending, I could maintain it indefinitely. But if there were even a few more objects around, it wouldn't just be impossible to track where everything was—it'd be a chaotic mess that'd only make me dizzy, not help at all.
I headed up the stairs first. No, aside from the door, this was the only structure around, so I had to check it out. From the top of the stairs, I felt around the spot where there should have been an opening, just in case, but nope—solid as rock. No other traces or hidden anything. I climbed as high as I could and sat down, surveying the whole scene from above.
A stark white tri-junction area came into view. It was just a bare white space, stripped of all the decorations and facilities from the Liberal Arts Building basement. It wasn't blindingly white because it wasn't pure white—there were subtle shades of light and shadow. Actually, the passageway between the cafeteria and dorms I'd seen that afternoon had been whiter.
I forced my mind to quiet the whispers urging me to think of something else, scanning every direction intently for any clues. High probability this was the starting point. When I'd first woken up here, it had been a corridor, but when I came back and touched the walls, it had expanded. So maybe touching would change things? That's why I'd climbed the stairs, but the walls showed no reaction.
Which meant the only way forward was that glaringly obvious door? I ran my hand along where the stairs met the ceiling. In a game, rubbing a spot like this might teleport you somewhere, but no such luck—just the cool texture of synthetic resin.
Yeah, like it'd be that easy. I just wanted to get the hell out. Grumbling inwardly, I jumped down from the stairs. I'd thought enough already. If it was about processing emotions instead of racking my brain, I could do that back in my room under the covers. I'd avoided facing the problem out of fear before, but now it was time to confront it.
I descended the stairs and walked toward the metal door leading to the research institute. Yellow and black diagonals—an easy warning sign. Weirdly, even when the world changed, stuff like this stayed consistent. Just like how construction vehicles are mostly yellow in real life.
I couldn't know if it actually connected to the lab, but I passed the spot where the security gate had been in reality and stood before the massive metal door. So, how much agonizing did I need to do before opening this thing? I calmly placed my hand on it.
A chill like dipping my fingers in liquid nitrogen—not just ice—surged in. Thud crash. Ow. I rubbed my butt. Whoa, that scared me. I frantically checked my fingertips. Fortunately, they were fine.
Whew, close call. No chill at all until they touched, so what the hell? Touching metal that cold can stick to your skin if you're unlucky. I was so startled I fell backward. I touched other skin with the fingertips that had grazed the door. Unpleasant. The feeling hit before I could think why, filling my head with questions.
Then instinct pointed to my fingers. That's when I realized—my fingertips weren't cold at all. No chill, not even warmth. I plopped down right there and checked the pad. It hadn't broken, thank god, though a small scratch from the fall bugged me. I hurriedly checked the screen—fine. Good thing it wasn't the display. Does insurance cover this? Probably not. Sighing over the scratch barely a week in, I saw the video was still recording, battery plenty. Keep filming. Gotta salvage something. If I escape, I can say I vanished suddenly because of this! Otherwise, it's truancy. I was k idnapped!
Good. Anger was solid fuel. Like chugging an energy drink, I stood up. Steel myself again, I approached the door. Still no chill even close up. But that momentary cold was definitely real. Instead of touching again, I inspected the surroundings closely.
Yeah. There had to be something besides pushing the door. Who'd touch a door that freezing? There should at least be a lever or switch. It couldn't only open from inside, right? I checked both sides of the sturdy iron door first. Just smooth walls. Nothing promising.
Looked up at the ceiling, scanned the floor markings for door swing radius—no hidden symbols or devices. Squatted down just in case, but the markings were just markings. No hidden glyphs or text. Turned around, scoured the security gate area thoroughly. A bit far, but maybe the opener was outside considering the door swing. But that hope evaporated completely. Confirmed nothing there, trudged back to the door.
No chill now either, but memory from before grabbed my ankle: danger. So, resolve was key here? Deep breath. Short exhale, clenched teeth, hand to the door. "......Eek!" This wasn't just goosebumps. The winter dawn wind piercing my bones in the wilderness felt warm by comparison.
Vrrr. The door slid open so easily it felt wrong. One hand—not even both—and the double doors rose upward. Not just rising—they kept going like an automatic door even after I let go, ending up just like in the real world. In short, it opened.
Across the corridor: another stark white passage, no different from before. Still shivering uncontrollably from the cold, beyond my trembling right hand, something black caught my eye. Brushed my hand aside—far off, a black shadow stood.
Similar to what I'd seen in front of the Liberal Arts Building. Distance looked about the same, but unlike those sprawled haphazardly on the floor then, this one was standing. My current life had better eyesight than my past one, so I could see the human shape twisted in agony from afar—not mutated weirdly, but the horrific contortion of someone who'd writhed in pain before dying.
It stood utterly still, creepily motionless. I wanted to turn back and recheck other possibilities from the start, but seeing it, I knew despite myself. This was an invitation. I'd been at the fastest path from the entrance all along, right in the tri-junction center, straight ahead to this massive metal door. I'd just idiotically veered off, but really, that's where I'd been.
Maybe even thinking it was just a white corridor at first was me averting my eyes from this door. Of course. I knew myself. I wasn't that brave—just an ordinary guy. The type who runs from scary stuff, mocks others' misfortune from afar. Death was fine since I'd experienced it once. But if there was horrific pain between life and death, I'd run like any normal person. Otherwise? It was already done, nothing to it—why run?
I lacked courage, but death wasn't scary, so I advanced. The moment I crossed the door's plane, instant regret. Cold, chilling—the previous was just a demo for this bone-deep freeze invading me. But...... strangely familiar.
Honestly, the thought that hit was how people too exposed to cold lose nerve function, strip naked, and die. Was I there now? Checked myself—no feverish urge to undress. The cold persisted, but I felt cozy inside. Had my mind finally snapped? Yeah, I'd held out long enough. Hard to tell if I was mad or still sane. Too many sensations to think straight. Still, another step forward.
With each step, the passage ahead darkened. Not lights going out—more like shadows creeping in gradually. But my eyes saw inside clearly. Not actually darkening, but perceiving it that way far off? No mana sensation at all—unpleasantly absent. Felt like I'd left the sense of mana behind there.
Then my mana should deplete, but no such feeling. It was just there. Like taxidermied—rigid, but flowed like water when I moved, as usual. But halting instantly when relaxed? Bizarre. Even alive—or dead—mana doesn't freeze like that. Checked the screen in my hand. Beyond: white passage, black shadow sharply captured far ahead.
Where hallucination ended and reality began—who knew. But that was familiar. I'd spent plenty time alone in mom's womb, so I was an expert here. Hesitation in this was just killing time. So, no pausing—I pressed on.
The black form loomed closer. And clearer. A black human statue, emaciated like pain carved from stone, no muscle or fat. Yet faint light from the eye sockets stared straight at me. One step. One step. Another.
Then, the still figure suddenly moved.