Chapter 10: No Rest for the Damned One

The air around Wan was heavy, thick with tension that seemed to seep into his bones. He stood alone in the endless, empty hallway, surrounded by shadows that never stopped moving, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for him to shatter.

The kitten's question still rang in his ears: Why did you hurt me? The silence that followed was worse than any scream. He had tried to answer, but no words had been enough. His hesitation had only fed the nightmare—everything he didn't say had spoken for him.

And now, the hallway began to dissolve. The walls peeled away like old paint, crumbling into dust, leaving nothing but an expanse of endless black stone beneath his feet. The floor stretched out into an abyss, and the only thing that remained constant was the presence that loomed over him—ancient, patient, and inescapable.

Wan knew it was here. The Architect had returned.

The shadows twisted into a towering form at the edge of his vision, a figure that flickered between light and darkness, impossible to grasp fully. It was as if the Architect wore every possible shape at once—familiar and monstrous, human and alien. Its presence made Wan's skin crawl, as though reality itself bent under the weight of its existence.

The Architect's voice slithered into his mind, soft and deliberate. "It is done. For now."

Wan's breath hitched in his throat, every muscle tensing. "What... what do you mean?" His voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

The Architect's gaze was unfathomable—not cruel, but not kind either. "You will wake soon. And you will return to your life. Go to school. Eat. Breathe. Do what you always did."

Wan's chest tightened. He didn't know what he had expected, but it wasn't this. "So... that's it? I can just... leave?"

The Architect tilted its head, as if amused by the question. "You misunderstand." The weight of its voice pressed down on Wan, each word carving itself into his mind. "You may live your life during the day. But when night falls..." It paused, letting the silence linger for a moment too long. "You will return to me. Every night."

Wan felt the floor sway beneath him, as if the ground was collapsing under the weight of his dread. Every night. No matter what he did, no matter where he went, the nightmare would come for him again.

There was no escape.

"This is your life now," the Architect continued, its voice smooth and final. "You will walk through the world by day, but when the sun sets, you will descend back into your hell."

Wan's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the cold stone, gripping his head with both hands. This can't be real. The idea of waking up, of pretending to live a normal life, only to be dragged back here every single night—it was unbearable. What was the point of anything if this would never end?

The Architect stepped closer, its shadow stretching impossibly long. "There are no exceptions. No second chances. You will return. And if you survive each trial, you will move deeper. Until there is nothing left of you but the truth."

Wan shook his head, panic choking his words. "I won't— I can't do this. Not every night."

The Architect's smile was cold, devoid of sympathy. "You will."

Wan wanted to scream, to fight back, to claw his way out of this nightmare. But deep down, he knew it was pointless. The Architect was not something that could be bargained with or reasoned with. It was inevitable, like the passage of time.

"You may hate it." The Architect's voice was soft, almost a whisper now. "You may curse me. But you will return."

The ground beneath Wan began to crack, splintering into jagged fragments of light and shadow. He could feel himself falling away, pulled backward toward consciousness, as if the world of nightmares was peeling away from him—only for now.

"Sleep will always find you, Wan," the Architect said, its voice lingering in the air like a promise. "And so will I."

With that, the last fragment of stone gave way, and Wan fell—plunging into darkness once more.