I ran.
I didn't think. I didn't look back. I just forced myself forward, even though every step felt like the ground could vanish beneath me at any moment.
The air grew heavier. As if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for me to make the wrong decision.
My feet pounded against the pavement, but the sound didn't match the speed at which I was moving.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Because the bridge… never ended.
No matter how fast I ran, no matter how desperately I tried to get away from that woman and the cracks in the horizon—
The end of the bridge remained just as far away.
A knot of pure panic tightened in my chest.
No. No. No.
This isn't real. This can't be happening.
I closed my eyes for a second, and when I opened them…
Someone was running beside me.
My heart jolted violently.
It was him.
The man I had followed here.
Only now… he was looking at me, too, as if he didn't understand what was happening either.
"You too?" he asked, breathless.
It took me a second to realize this wasn't the first time he had tried to speak to me.
"What's going on?" I managed to ask.
"I don't know. But we're not alone."
And then I heard it.
Not my footsteps. Not his.
Others.
The fine hairs on my neck stood on end.
Something was following us.
And I didn't need to see it to know it couldn't reach us.
The bridge trembled.
The sound of something cracking echoed behind us.
We ran faster.
But the bridge was no longer just a bridge.
It was a maze without an exit.
And worst of all…
A part of me knew I had been here before.
We ran without direction, without logic—only with the certainty that stopping was not an option.
The bridge stretched on as if it were infinite, as if time itself was mocking us, trapping us in an endless cycle.
"This doesn't make any sense!" I shouted, desperation seeping into my voice.
He didn't respond. His gaze was fixed ahead, as if he saw something I couldn't.
The footsteps behind us grew louder. They weren't just steps anymore—they were something more. Something bigger. Heavier.
Something that couldn't catch us.
Eduardo clenched his jaw, his expression hardening.
"When I tell you to jump, jump."
"What?"
"Trust me."
A roar—or a scream—ripped through the air behind us.
I didn't think. I just nodded.
Because right now, the only certainty I had was that being alone in this place was worse than trusting a stranger.
The bridge trembled harder.
The cracks around us spread like lightning across the stone, splitting everything into floating fragments.
Eduardo grabbed my wrist.
"Now!"
I didn't hesitate.
We jumped.
The void swallowed us whole.
And for the first time, I truly felt like I was falling through time.
The air grew denser as we fell. Not like the wind rushing past in freefall, but as if time itself resisted letting us through.
My heart hammered against my ribs. My scream stuck in my throat, drowned out by the sheer emptiness.
Eduardo never let go of my wrist.
Light distorted around us. We weren't falling in a straight line anymore—we were sliding, twisting, as if passing through something invisible.
And then, the impact.
I hit the ground hard, but it wasn't stone or wood that caught me. It was… soft. As if the air itself had cushioned our fall.
I lay there for a moment, trying to catch my breath. My hands pressed against the ground. It wasn't dirt. It wasn't stone. It wasn't anything I recognized.
It was smooth. Cold.
When I opened my eyes, the vertigo intensified.
We were surrounded by darkness. Not ordinary darkness, but something with depth, movement—something that seemed to breathe.
I sat up abruptly, searching for Eduardo.
"Where are we?"
He was getting to his feet too, his expression tense, as if he were listening to something I couldn't hear.
"Between."
His voice was low, almost a whisper.
"Between what?"
He turned to me, and for the first time, I saw something in his gaze that hadn't been there before. Not fear. Not uncertainty.
Recognition.
"Between time."
My mind struggled to process his words.
"That doesn't make sense," I whispered.
"None of this does."
The darkness around us shuddered at his voice. As if it were reacting.
I stood up, my legs still shaky.
"How do we get out of here?"
Eduardo studied me for a moment before answering.
"We don't. They let us out."
A chill ran down my spine.
"They?"
"I don't know. But they're watching us."
I felt it the moment he said it.
That pressure in the air, that sensation of something moving around us without being seen.
My breathing turned shallow.
We were not alone.
Something was here.
Something that shouldn't exist.
Then, the voice.
Cold. Calm. Inhuman.
"Why are you here, traveler?"
My entire body froze.
Not just because the voice had no direction.
But because it wasn't speaking to Eduardo.
It was speaking to me.
I swallowed hard, feeling reality itself waver.
"I… I don't know," I managed to say, my throat dry.
A silence. Then, a reply.
"Yes, you do."
The shadows shifted. Something emerged from the darkness.
It had no defined form, yet its presence filled everything.
Eduardo stepped between us.
"You can't take her."
The entity—because I couldn't call it anything else—seemed to laugh.
"We didn't come to take her. We came to warn her."
The air grew tense.
"Warn me… about what?" I asked, my own voice trembling.
The shadow leaned closer—though it never truly moved.
"About what is coming."
I had no time to ask what that meant.
Because in that moment, the darkness swallowed us once more.
And the world changed again.