Chapter 15: The Door That Shouldn’t Exist

Cass stared at the building, his breath slow, deliberate.

It was exactly as he had seen it in his dreams—gray stone, featureless, utterly wrong. It stood in the middle of the empty lot, untouched by time, as if the world had simply built itself around it.

He felt cold. Not from the night air, but from the weight settling deep in his bones.

This wasn't possible.

He turned to Rich, his pulse hammering in his throat.

"You need to explain," Cass said, voice tight. "How the hell did you find this?"

Rich exhaled, rubbing a hand through his hair. It was messier than usual, sticking up in places like he'd been yanking at it for hours. His hoodie was wrinkled, pulled tight around him, and his jeans were scuffed at the knees.

He looked like he had been running from something.

Rich shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels. "I don't know, man," he muttered. "It's just been… showing up."

Cass frowned. "Showing up?"

Rich's mouth tightened. "I started seeing it everywhere. Like, I'd turn a corner, and it'd be there. I'd drive to work, and suddenly—bam. Just sitting between two buildings like it had always been there."

Cass stared at him. "You're telling me this place was following you?"

Rich made a frustrated noise, throwing up his hands. "I don't know! Maybe?! I thought I was losing my goddamn mind. But then I finally came here, and it was just…" He gestured toward the building, his fingers twitching. "Waiting."

Cass swallowed.

He looked at Rich properly for the first time that night.

They had known each other for years. Rich had always been the laid-back one, the guy who could make any situation feel less serious than it was. But now?

Now, he looked exhausted.

Dark circles sat under his eyes, his usual easy smirk replaced with something else—something frayed at the edges. The muscles in his jaw twitched like he was holding something back.

Cass sighed, running a hand through his own hair. He wasn't much better. He'd lost weight in the past month—his clothes hung looser, his frame slightly more angular than it used to be. His dark hair was in desperate need of a trim, and the ever-present stubble on his jawline was slowly turning into an actual beard.

They looked like two men who hadn't slept in weeks.

Rich noticed him looking and snorted. "Jesus, we're a mess."

Cass huffed. "No kidding."

Rich rubbed at his face. "You think if I just shave my head and start wearing sunglasses at night, I can pretend I'm in The Matrix instead of whatever nightmare this is?"

Cass raised a brow. "I give you a week before you start dressing like Morpheus."

Rich grinned, but it was weak. "Yeah, and you're one bad night away from full Fight Club energy."

Cass exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

It was stupid, but it helped. Just for a second, it helped.

Then they turned back to the building, and the weight settled again.

Cass clenched his fists. "So, what now?"

Rich swallowed. "Now? We go inside."

Cass stared at him. "You want to just walk in?"

Rich shrugged. "Hey, if we die, we die. I've had a good run."

Cass sighed. "That's not reassuring."

Rich smirked, but his eyes were serious. "Look, man. You know we're not leaving without checking it out. We're both too stupid for that."

Cass huffed. "Accurate."

He turned toward the door.

It was waiting for him.

His breath was slow, steady. His fingers twitched at his sides.

Rich stepped closer. "Hey," he muttered. "If we go in and something tries to eat us, you're on your own. I'm not outpacing some supernatural horror for your sake."

Cass shot him a look. "I work out more than you do."

Rich snorted. "Okay, but I have pure panic on my side. Ever seen a terrified man clear a ten-foot fence? 'Cause you might tonight."

Cass sighed, reaching for the handle. "Just—stay close."

Rich clapped him on the back. "Don't have to tell me twice, man."

Cass pulled the door open.

And everything changed.

The air inside was thick. Heavy.

Like stepping into a place that had been sealed away from time itself.

Cass inhaled sharply, but the air didn't feel right. It was cold, but not in a way he recognized. Like he wasn't supposed to be here.

Rich stepped in behind him. The door slammed shut.

Cass spun, his pulse spiking. "What the hell?!"

Rich cursed, yanking on the handle. It didn't budge.

Cass's breathing slowed. "Okay. That's not great."

Rich shot him a flat look. "Really? That's where you're setting the bar for 'not great'?"

Cass ignored him and turned toward the hallway ahead.

It stretched forward, lit by nothing.

But somehow, he could see.

The walls were too smooth, like they hadn't been built but placed.

And then he saw it.

A desk.

Sitting in the center of the hallway, old and dust-covered. A single file sat on top.

Cass stepped closer, heart pounding. He reached out—

And stopped.

The file was labeled.

"Subject: Cassian Voss."

His hands went ice-cold.

Cass grabbed the file, flipping it open. Words, notes, pages of information. He skimmed quickly, his mind reeling.

Subject's memories show signs of resistance.

Potential for anomaly.

Multiple resets observed.

Cass's breath caught in his throat.

Resets.

He turned the page.

The next note made his blood run cold.

Cassian Voss has exceeded protocol parameters. Subject has retained awareness beyond standard erasure methods.

Full removal required.

His fingers clenched around the paper. His vision blurred.

They knew.

Whoever had written this—they knew he was resisting.

They had been watching.

Cass turned the final page—

And stopped.

A single note.

He is starting to remember.

Cass's stomach dropped.

Then—

A whisper.

Soft. Right behind him.

"Wake up."

End of Chapter 15 – End of Act 1 - Volume 1