The sensation of stepping through the portal was like being submerged in ice water. Jason's skin prickled, and his breath was stolen from him as a rush of energy surged through his body. He couldn't tell if he was falling or floating, only that the world around him had dissolved into blinding light and disjointed fragments of sound.
When the sensation finally subsided, he found himself standing in a vast, empty expanse. The ground beneath his feet was smooth, like polished glass, reflecting a sky that seemed to stretch into eternity. The horizon was neither light nor dark but an unsettling blend of both, as if the world itself couldn't decide what it wanted to be.
Jason turned slowly, his eyes scanning for anything that made sense. The figures from before were gone, and the doorway he had stepped through was no longer visible. He was utterly alone.
And yet, he wasn't.
A voice, soft but unmistakably familiar, spoke from the void. "Do you see it now, Jason? The world as it truly is?"
Jason's heart skipped a beat. He recognized the voice—it was his own, but it carried an edge of detachment, as though it belonged to a version of him that had long since abandoned emotion.
"What is this place?" Jason called out, his voice echoing unnaturally in the vast emptiness.
"This is the fracture," the voice replied. "The space between what was and what could be. The place where your truth lies hidden."
Jason clenched his fists. "Enough riddles. Tell me what's going on! Why am I here? What do you mean by 'truth'?"
The air around him shimmered, and a figure began to take shape in front of him. It was him—again. But this version of Jason looked older, worn, as though he had carried the weight of the world on his shoulders for far too long. His eyes were hollow, yet they burned with an intensity that made Jason shiver.
"You've been running in circles, chasing shadows," the older Jason said, his voice calm but laced with a quiet fury. "Everything you've seen, everything you've experienced—it's all been leading you here. To me."
Jason took a step back, his mind racing. "You're not real. You're just another trick, another illusion."
The older Jason smirked, a cold, humorless expression. "You can keep telling yourself that, but it won't change the truth. I'm you, Jason. The part of you that's been buried, forgotten. And it's time you remembered."
Before Jason could respond, the ground beneath him rippled, and the glassy surface cracked, spiderweb fractures spreading out in all directions. He staggered, trying to keep his balance, as the world around him seemed to collapse.
"You don't understand yet," the older Jason said, stepping closer. "But you will. Everything you've seen—the whispers, the illusions, the choices—they've all been pieces of the puzzle. And the picture they form… it's not what you think."
Jason's chest tightened. "Then tell me! Stop speaking in riddles and just tell me what's going on!"
The older Jason shook his head. "It doesn't work that way. You have to see it for yourself. But I'll give you one piece of advice: the key you carry—it's not just for opening doors. It's for unlocking the truth. Use it wisely."
Before Jason could ask what he meant, the older Jason dissolved into the air, leaving him alone once more. The cracks in the ground widened, and Jason could feel himself being pulled downward, as though gravity itself had turned against him.
He fell.
The sensation was different this time—not a freefall, but a controlled descent, as though he were being guided by unseen hands. The world around him shifted and changed, fragments of his journey flashing past like pieces of a broken mirror. He saw the faces of those he had encountered, the places he had been, the choices he had made. And in each fragment, he saw something he hadn't noticed before—a shadow, faint but unmistakable, lurking just out of sight.
When he finally landed, the ground was solid beneath his feet, and the air was heavy with silence. He found himself in a room that was eerily familiar. The walls were lined with shelves filled with books and artifacts, and the faint glow of candlelight illuminated the space. It was the room he had seen in his visions—the one where the figure had handed him the key.
Jason's hand instinctively went to his pocket, and he pulled out the key. It felt heavier than before, its surface etched with intricate patterns that seemed to shift when he looked at them. He felt a strange pull, as though the key was calling to something within the room.
He turned slowly, his eyes scanning the shelves until they landed on a small, unassuming box in the corner. The box was old, its surface worn and faded, but it radiated an energy that Jason couldn't ignore.
With trembling hands, he approached the box and inserted the key into the lock. The moment the key turned, the air around him seemed to vibrate, and a low hum filled the room. The lid of the box creaked open, revealing its contents.
Inside was a single piece of paper, its surface blank except for a single sentence written in an elegant, looping script:
"Beyond the threshold lies the answer you seek."
Jason stared at the words, his mind racing. What did it mean? And why did it feel as though he had seen them before?
The air grew colder, and Jason felt a presence behind him. He turned, his heart pounding, and saw a figure standing in the shadows. It stepped forward, its face obscured, but its voice unmistakable.
"Do you understand now, Jason?" it asked. "Or are you still blind to the truth?"
Jason clenched the paper in his hand, his resolve hardening. "I'm done being blind," he said. "I'll find the truth—no matter what it takes."
The figure smiled, and the room began to dissolve, pulling Jason into the next stage of his journey.