The stairwell was damp with condensation, the stone walls slick like old bone. Siya’s flashlight flickered against the concrete, cutting across peeling paint and water stains that coiled in faint, spiral-like whorls. Neither she nor Marks spoke.They had followed the trail of malfunctioning generators and redacted schematics until the corridor dead-ended, except it didn’t. The blueprint showed a sealed-off chamber beneath the east surgical wing. A room no one acknowledged in logs,with no wiring or ventilation, just wasted space. “The Hollow Room,” Marks muttered, reading the faded words etched in rust beside a warped metal plate.Siya pressed her palm against the surface. It was warm. Vibrating faintly, like a heartbeat under a pillow of skin. She looked at Marks.“It’s behind here,” she said. “It always was.”A rusted manual crank sat embedded in the wall. No digital access, no biometric scan, just iron and age. Marks wrapped a cloth around his hand and twisted. The metal shrieked i

The hum was no longer just in the walls. It was in the air, the floor, the marrow of Siya’s bones.The corridor warped around them, narrowing even though the tiles under her boots stayed fixed. It was like walking between two invisible presses slowly closing in. Marks swore under his breath, his flashlight beam bending unnaturally, as if the light itself was being pulled toward the epicenter.“Move!” he barked, shoving her ahead, but the air pushed back, thick, vibrating, almost solid. The hum rose half a tone, becoming something more than sound, something that rattled the teeth and clenched the heart. Siya’s ears popped. She realized it wasn’t just walls closing, it was the structure folding in, reality bending toward a single point.They reached the junction near the surgical wing, but it was unrecognizable. The ceiling sagged like a soft lung, metal panels creaking. The linoleum floor rippled in slow waves under their feet. And there, ahead, in the fracture between collapsing geome

The sound hit them first. Not the low hum they’d grown used to, but something sharper, splintered, like glass breaking under strain. Siya staggered, clutching her head. The corridor walls trembled, not from vibrations in the air, but as if the stone itself was trying to sing.“Move,” Marks said hoarsely, tugging her arm. His voice sounded distant, muffled beneath the roar of layered frequencies. They stumbled toward the stairwell, but the steps had warped into angles that didn’t make sense. The spiral had begun to reshape the hospital itself, turning passageways into curves and ceilings into slopes that bent inward.Siya pressed her palm against the nearest wall. It pulsed under her touch like diseased flesh. A jolt shot through her arm. She pulled away with a cry, staring in horror as bruises formed instantly, curling into spiral shapes on her skin.“It’s bleeding into us,” she whispered.Marks steadied her. His eyes, wide and bloodshot, darted down the corridor. “Then we don’t have

The echo chamber pressed against Siya’s mind like water threatening to pull her under. Shadows swam inside the spiral, their edges blurring into sound, their movements synchronized to a rhythm that wasn’t her own heartbeat. For the first time since stepping into this fracture between worlds, she felt her grip slip. Her sister’s voice was thin, fractured, but always just out of reach. Then something sharp and metallic hummed against her chest. The tuning fork.Marks had shoved it into her hand before she stepped over the threshold, muttering that it might “hold her here.” It was an old resonance anchor, one of the forgotten tools from Project Threnody, a rough prototype, its metal prongs scarred with use, one arm bent slightly off alignment. Siya hadn’t believed it would matter, but now, in the spiral’s pull, it vibrated steadily, pulsing through her bones like a lifeline.She clutched it tightly, pressing the base against her sternum. The tone thrummed low, weaving through the echo’s

The silence folded around Siya like a living thing. It wasn’t absence, but density, every breath weighted, every heartbeat echoing as though the space itself was listening. Asanda stood in front of her, or something wearing her sister’s face. The eyes were black mirrors, polished and depthless, reflecting spirals of light that moved of their own accord.“Asanda…” Siya whispered, and the name felt like it was being peeled from her throat.Her sister tilted her head, like she was deciphering a note played off-key. Then the figure mouthed words, though no sound came. The silence was too total, too devouring. Siya took a step closer, her hand trembling at her side, resisting the urge to reach out.Behind Asanda, the void trembled. Patterns flared in the darkness, shapes folding and unfolding, like geometry trapped between dimensions, and within them were dozens of faces. They pressed against invisible panes, mouths stretched in silent screams, eyes rolling with terror.Siya’s chest constr