He moved through the corridors silently, each junction another choice, and every choice a point of no return.
They were watching, of that he was sure. The dim, flickering light danced along the concrete walls, forming shadows shaped from the fragmented memories of those before him.
His pulse quickened. The map was only a fragment, a ruin of revelation overlooked by countless others. But he knew—those patterns had whispered of truths, hidden from silent mouths.
It wasn't paranoia if one had been followed across lifetimes.
Steps echoed, synchronizing with an unknowable rhythm. Around the bend lay instructions, left by a past self in languages akin to dreams.
Destination unknown, navigator reborn.
He felt the path beneath him changing, the once-forgotten paths bleeding with secrets.