The feeling of suffocation every night as dusk fell wasn't just a figment of my imagination.

A chilling gaze, as if someone were staring down at me. The sound of mysterious feathers fluttering and wings flapping inside a room enclosed by walls on all sides... The general hospital I visited, pushed by the pressure of those around me, was perfectly ordinary, at least up to the first-floor lobby.

Three words written on the back of the registration slip the doctor handed over indifferently: 'Closed Ward.' That was the beginning of my fall.

I boarded the elevator guided by a staff member. The numbers went up in order and stopped in front of a strange button that didn't indicate any floor number, not even the ground level.

➊ — 𝕱𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖗 .

The moment the door opened with a 'ding,' the pungent smell of disinfectant that had been piercing my lungs vanished as if washed away. Instead, what brushed the tip of my nose was a sickeningly alluring sweet floral scent and the smell of old wood.

A hallway so quiet it was desolate, and bizarre symbols engraved on every hospital room door. And the things I saw through the glass windows—I will never be able to forget them. Frames crawling randomly on the walls, chandeliers walking across the ceiling upside down, an old grandfather clock settled on a patient's shoulder, ticking away...

In that bizarre landscape, the nurse spoke with a spine-chilling calmness. "This is a ward where humans and 'Existences' stay together. You must remain here until your symptoms are confirmed."

Clack.

The door locked behind me, and I was left alone in a room surrounded by white walls. A window through which the outside could not be seen at all. In a room where even time seemed to have stopped, all I could do was hold my breath.

I wonder how much time passed. From the far end of the hallway, slow footsteps broke the silence.

Tap. Tap.

Finally, my hospital room door slowly opened. The first thing that caught my eye was a cloak so white it made my eyes sting... no, that wasn't a cloak. They were real 'wings' flapping with giant feathers.

And the moment my gaze met his face, I even forgot to scream. In the place where human features should have been, there sat an old frame with two blue Morpho butterflies preserved inside. A form that was strangely beautiful, yet ominous enough to freeze my heart.

He stopped in front of me without a word. Even though he shouldn't have had eyes, something beyond the frame was clearly piercing right through me.

His gaze didn't scan my body or my face. Only one place. Very slowly... he stared obsessively at my pupils alone.

In the surging silence, he finally took one more step closer. The scratching sound of pure white feathers brushing against each other. And between his slender palms, I saw a cold, giant syringe being quietly gripped. There was nowhere to run.