The shift was immediate.
One moment, he was in the hall. The next, he was somewhere else entirely.
The air was thick with mist, curling around his feet like a living thing. The ground beneath him was smooth, solid, yet it felt like he was standing on something ancient. There was no sky above him, only an endless expanse of swirling gray.
Jude turned, but the doorway was gone.
He was alone.
A sound echoed through the mist, faint at first, then growing louder. Footsteps.
Jude tensed, his fingers twitching at his sides.
Then, out of the mist, a figure emerged.
Jude's breath caught.
It was himself.
Not a reflection. Not a shadow. But a perfect copy, standing a few feet away, watching him with the same steady gaze.
Jude took a step back. The other him took a step forward.
The air around them crackled with something unseen.
Jude swallowed. "What is this?"
The other him tilted its head. "The fourth step."
