After struggling for so long, I made a decision.
There was no point running anymore. Staying outside, trapped in that burning ground, felt pointless. As I turned back toward the gate, I noticed the demonic man watching me. For the first time, he laughed-quietly, almost amused.
I didn't know whether to feel insulted or strangely understood. For a brief moment, I wondered if I should laugh too-at myself, at the absurdity of trying to escape a place that clearly had no exits.
He opened the gate again.
I didn't look at him this time.
I just walked past and went inside.
The space beyond the gate was familiar.
The library.
Rows of books. Tables neatly arranged. That same unsettling order. But something had changed. The arrangement was slightly different, as if the room had been reorganized-updated-waiting for its next use.
The office cabin was still there.
Inside it sat the same human.
He was wearing different clothes now, formal and composed, like someone who had settled into a long workday. He sat comfortably in the chair, calm, unhurried, as if time behaved differently for him.
As I entered, he looked up at me.
He didn't speak.
Instead, he gestured toward the chair across from him-an invitation, quiet and deliberate.
I sat down.
I don't know why, but it felt natural-almost human. That was what confused me the most. Nothing about this place should have felt familiar, yet sitting across from him felt strangely ordinary. I told myself to stay and see what would happen.
He spoke.
"My name is Alexander. I'm from England."
My chest tightened. Panic rose instantly. He noticed it before I could hide it.
"Don't panic," he said calmly. "Just listen."
He leaned back slightly, relaxed.
"I am human. From your world. Just from a different country. Not yours."
He paused, then added, almost casually, "Australia, in your case."
He already knew.
At that point, fear stopped making sense. Everything around me was already insane. So instead of panicking, I asked the only question that mattered.
"How do you know all this?"
He stood up and walked toward one of the shelves. From it, he pulled out a large, heavy book and placed it on the table between us.
"This place is... different," he said. "It's magical. It shows everything."
The cover of the book was dark, worn, marked with symbols. Written across it were words I could read clearly:
Human World
He opened it.
Inside it look like maps but a living one. It moved slowly, like it was breathing. He touched the surface, and the image zoomed in by itself.
Countries. Cities. Streets.
"Cristina," he said softly. "Show me her place."
The page responded instantly.
The map zoomed again. Closer. Closer.
Until I saw it.
My address.
Every detail was there-my building, my room, my life. It felt invasive, impossible. He touched the page once more, and information surfaced like layers being uncovered.
He slid the book toward me.
I hold the book and
I finally asked the question that had been crushing my chest from the moment I arrived.
"Why am I here?"
"What is this place?"
"What's the reason behind all this?"
"And… am I going to die?"
The words came out quickly, overlapping, as if I were afraid they might disappear if I didn't release them all at once.
Alexander looked at me for a long moment.
Then he spoke, calmly.
"You have many questions," he said. "But this place doesn't work like panic. You'll have to ask them one by one."
There was no impatience in his voice. No threat. Just certainty.
I paused. Took a breath.
And did exactly that.
"Why am I here?" I asked first.
Alexander folded his hands on the table, as if this was a conversation he had prepared for.
"Because you reached a point where you were willing to disappear," he said. "Not loudly. Not dramatically. Quietly. That matters here."
My throat tightened, but I didn't interrupt.
"What is this place?" I asked again, slower this time.
Alexander didn't answer immediately. He looked around the room—the shelves, the order, the quiet—as if choosing the correct definition mattered.
"It's not Earth," he said finally. "But it's not exactly hell either."
I frowned.
"It's a lower plane," he continued. "A functional one. Think of it as an administrative layer. A place where demons work—not torture. This is their office. Their library.
The word office disturbed me more than demons ever could ...
.
"What's the reason behind all this?"
A small favor was given to you — a chance to live.
"
M i going to die .i asked.
This time, he answered without hesitation.
"No."
I exhaled without realizing I had been holding my breath.
"But," he added calmly, "that doesn't mean nothing changes."
I looked at him.
"You won't die here," he said. "And you won't die today. But once someone enters this place consciously, their life no longer moves on the same path it would have before."
I thought of the bridge.
The card.
The word Welcome.
"So why me?" I whispered.
Alexander met my eyes.
"Because you were already asking the question," he said. "This place didn't pull you in. You were already looking for it."
The library remained silent around us.
.