I don’t know where to begin, but I am running. I don’t know what I am fleeing from, or where my feet are leading me, but one thing is certain... this place does not want me to live. The sounds around me are distorted, as if blaring from broken loudspeakers—static, thuds, and whispers in a language I do not understand, echoing through abandoned corridors. The lights above flash violently. Every step I take feels too loud, as though the walls themselves are listening. The air is heavy; every breath feels like inhaling a layer of pure terror. My limbs are trembling, not from the cold, but from a growing intuition warning me that something is drawing near.

Suddenly, a screen on the wall ahead flickers to life, emitting a sharp, piercing screech as it repeats a single phrase: "FEAR THRESHOLD EXCEEDED." What is this machine? Why is it measuring my terror? Where am I? Who am I? No answers. Only that voice in my head, throbbing with every beat of my heart, whispering that time is up, that I have arrived too late.

Then, right ahead, a door. Metallic. Covered in strange red markings. I approach. I reach out my hand to open it, but before I can touch it... I catch a faint reflection in the corner. It isn’t mine. A familiar face... yet twisted. And in that precise moment, I realize this isn't just an escape attempt... it is a test. And survival... is not guaranteed.