I paced the hallway, my mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts and emotions. The woman had warned me, but who was she really? Was she truly trying to help me, or was she just another part of whatever twisted game was being played? The more I thought about it, the more I realized how little I knew about anything. I was walking through a maze of lies, and I couldn't tell which direction led to safety-and which led straight to danger.

But there was one thing I knew for sure: I couldn't stay here. I couldn't let them find me again, not with everything I had learned so far. Every minute that passed felt like I was sinking deeper into something I couldn't escape.

I needed a plan.

I slipped into one of the rooms at the end of the hallway, a small, dimly lit space with nothing more than a table and a chair. The walls were bare, except for a single painting on the far wall-some abstract art that looked as out of place as I felt. I closed the door behind me, not bothering to lock it. It didn't matter. There was no place in this building that was truly safe.

I sat at the table, staring at my hands. I could still feel the woman's eyes on me. Her cryptic words echoing in my head: "Don't trust them. No one." But who else could I trust? She had said there were others-other people like me. Could I find them? Could I get them to help me?

Before I could even process my thoughts, a soft knock at the door interrupted my internal turmoil. My heart skipped a beat. I stood up, my pulse quickening. No one else knew I was in here. At least, I didn't think they did.

I slowly made my way toward the door, my body tense, every muscle on alert. I pressed my ear against the wood. I could hear the faint rustle of clothing on the other side. It wasn't a soft knock. It was deliberate. Someone was waiting.

I didn't open the door right away. I needed to think-should I open it? Should I confront whoever was out there? A part of me screamed to run, but I knew that wasn't an option. Not anymore. I needed answers, and maybe-just maybe-whoever was on the other side could give them to me.

I opened the door slowly, just a crack, enough to peek through.

And there he was.

The man from earlier-the one with the piercing eyes. His face was expressionless, but there was something in his gaze, something that made my blood run cold. He wasn't here to talk. He wasn't here to explain anything. He was here for something else.

"Come with me," he said simply, his voice low, like he had no interest in negotiating. It wasn't a request. It was an order.

I took a step back, instinctively pulling away from the door. "Why? What do you want from me?" I said, my voice shaky but firm.

His eyes flickered with something, maybe impatience, but he didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "You're not safe here. And you won't be safe anywhere unless you come with me."

I shook my head. "I don't trust you."

He didn't flinch. "You don't have a choice."

I hesitated. I didn't know if it was fear or desperation that drove me forward, but my legs moved before my brain could catch up. I stepped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind me.

"I don't want to be a part of this," I said, my voice quieter now, the uncertainty in it palpable.

He studied me for a moment before speaking again, his tone colder. "You already are. You've been marked."

I turned to face him. "What does that even mean? Why me?"

For the first time, I saw a flicker of something like regret in his eyes. "There's no easy way to explain it. But you'll understand soon enough."

He started to walk down the hallway, and I followed him, reluctant but with nowhere else to turn. He led me through a maze of rooms, past doors that were locked tight, down hallways that seemed to stretch on forever. The silence between us felt heavy, thick with the weight of unsaid things.

Eventually, we reached a door that looked different from the others. It was solid wood, with no windows, and it looked as though it had been reinforced. He stopped in front of it and turned to me, his expression unreadable.

"You need to see this," he said, before opening the door with a key that he pulled from his pocket.

Inside was a small, dimly lit room. But what caught my attention was the table in the center of it. Atop it were papers-pages and pages of them-scattered in a chaotic mess, some with strange symbols, some written in languages I didn't recognize. There were photographs too, some of people I didn't know, others of places I couldn't place.

"W-what is this?" I asked, my voice trembling as I moved closer to the table.

The man didn't answer at first. He stood behind me, his hands folded behind his back, watching me as I took it all in.

"They're watching you," he said finally, his voice low. "The people who marked you, the ones who've been hunting you-they're not just here. They're everywhere. And they don't just see you. They know you. They know your every move."

I felt a chill creep up my spine. It was as though something dark was closing in on me from all sides. "I don't understand," I whispered, backing away from the table. "I don't know who any of these people are..."

"You will," he said, cutting me off. "And soon, you'll have to make a choice. You can join them, or you can fight them."

The words hit me like a slap. "Fight them? How? I don't even know what they want from me."

"They want you," he said, his voice colder now. "They want what you are. And you're not going to be able to hide from it forever."

I felt my knees weaken, and I sank down onto the floor, overwhelmed by the weight of everything. I couldn't breathe. This was all too much. But there was no turning back. I had already stepped into their world.

"Look at the papers," he urged, as if sensing my hesitation. "And you'll see why they're after you. You'll see why there's no going back."

I glanced down at the scattered papers once more, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.

And then, with a deep breath, I reached forward, knowing that whatever I found on these pages would change everything.