Ethan was alone.
The void had swallowed Anna whole, leaving nothing behind—not a sound, not a trace, just an unnatural absence.
The second figure—his own reflection—stood in front of him, its hollow eyes watching. It hadn't moved since Anna disappeared, as if waiting for something.
Ethan's pulse pounded. His body was screaming at him to run, fight, do something—but for the first time, he wasn't sure there was anything left to do.
This wasn't just an enemy.
It wasn't even a being.
It was him.
Or maybe—what was left of him.
The void shifted. The ground beneath him was no longer solid, but not quite air either. He was standing on something that felt like memory—like time had lost its grip on him.
And then, the figure spoke.
"Do you remember what happens next?"
Ethan clenched his jaw. He didn't respond.
He couldn't.
Because part of him did remember.
He had been here before.
And each time, he had failed.
The figure took a slow step forward, mirroring his movements exactly. The air around it rippled, like reality itself was struggling to hold it together.
"You are not the first."
Ethan exhaled sharply. "Yeah? Then tell me—how does it end?"
The figure smiled.
"The same way it always does."
Then, it reached out.
Ethan barely had time to react before the world collapsed inward.
Somewhere Else.
Anna woke up.
Her body felt like it had been dropped from ten stories high, every nerve screaming in protest as she forced herself upright.
She wasn't in the asylum anymore.
The air was heavy, thick with the scent of something old—not decay, not rot, but something deeper. Something that had been left untouched for far too long.
The sky overhead was wrong.
Black, but not empty. Moving.
A deep red glow flickered beyond the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape. The ground beneath her feet wasn't soil or stone—it was smooth, polished like obsidian, stretching endlessly in all directions.
This wasn't Earth.
And she wasn't alone.
Ahead, at the far edge of whatever this place was, something stood waiting.
Not the void.
Not the faceless figure.
Something else.
Something watching.
And then—it began to move.
Luminex: The Descent
Victoria stood in the silent war room, watching as her analysts scrambled to make sense of the impossible. Every screen in the facility had gone dark. Every attempt to contact their teams at St. Augustine had failed.
She knew what that meant.
They were gone.
All of them.
Her fingers curled into a fist at her side, but she forced herself to remain still. No fear. No hesitation.
She turned to the lead technician. "What do we still have?"
The man swallowed. "Satellite imaging picked up a—" He hesitated, shaking his head. "I don't know how to describe it. It's like an energy rift, but it's… expanding."
Victoria's jaw tightened. The void was spreading.
It was happening faster than she had anticipated.
The voice from earlier had been right.
If Ethan broke the pattern—they wouldn't survive what came next.
She pressed a button on her private comm line. The signal was weak, but she didn't care. "Put me through to Horizon Division."
A few moments of static. Then—
A voice. Low, precise. Waiting.
"Director Lane. We've been expecting your call."
Victoria exhaled slowly. "I need a containment order. Full clearance."
A pause. Then—
"You mean a termination order."
Victoria didn't blink. "I mean both."
Another silence. Then, the response was calm.
"Understood."
The line went dead.
And Victoria Lane had just made a decision she could never take back.
The Return.
Ethan's body snapped back into place, like a rubber band being stretched to its limit and then released.
He gasped, collapsing onto his hands and knees. His skin burned. His mind was on fire.
The void was gone.
The asylum was gone.
He was standing in the middle of a city street.
Night. Cold. The distant hum of cars, the neon glow of signs. But something was off.
The people walking by didn't react to him. They moved past him, like he wasn't even there.
Then, he saw the screens.
Every television, every monitor, every reflective surface—showing his face.
And the words beneath it:
"Welcome Back."
Ethan's breath came sharp and shallow.
Because now—he remembered.
And he realized the truth.
He had already lost.
Because this wasn't the first time.
It was just the next time.