Chapter 2: The Suspended Bridge and the Gatekeeper
There was no wind—yet I felt like I was drifting.
The first step onto the bridge stopped me in my tracks—not out of fear, but because everything around me felt… subtly wrong.
No sound.
No shadow beneath my feet.
No clear sense of gravity, yet I wasn’t floating either.
I couldn’t feel the weight of my body or smell anything at all. It was as if my senses were being rearranged.
The sky stretched endlessly, glowing red like dying embers—brilliant but not blinding. Far off in the distance, glowing rings floated slowly, changing colors in a rhythm I couldn’t define… but somehow felt familiar.
I turned around.
The door to my home had vanished.
There was no way back.
The bridge had no rails—just a narrow, silver path twisting through the void. I steadied myself and moved forward.
After some time, I saw a figure ahead—standing still in the middle of the bridge.
As I approached, the figure turned.
I couldn’t tell if it was male or female. Thin build, cloaked in something like drifting smoke. Their face was hidden behind a tarnished bronze mask, and only the eyes shone through—pale white, like moonlight reflected in glass.
“Who are you?” I asked.
No reply came immediately.
Then, in a low, emotionless voice, the figure spoke:
“You’ve stepped through Window Number One. And it only opens for a reason.”
I breathed heavily. “You mean… this planet is real? And my son… saw it before me?”
No nod. No shake of the head.
Only this:
“Not saw it before. Chosen to see it.”
“Chosen? By who?”
Silence.
The figure didn’t look at me, but into the space behind me—as if gazing at something distant, vast, and far beyond my understanding.
“There are seven Windows. Each reveals a fragment of the truth. But not everyone is strong enough to pass through them all.”
I clenched my fists. “I’m not here to play riddles. If this affects my son… I need to understand.”
The figure tilted their head slightly, then whispered:
“Your son isn’t the first child to dream of things no one ever taught. But perhaps… he’ll be the last.”
My heart turned cold.
“I am the Gatekeeper. I do not speak truth or lies. I simply guard the path for those who dare to walk it. And now, you must choose—go forward, or turn back.”
I opened my mouth to ask, “Turn back how?”—but the figure had vanished. No sound. No trace.
Only a prolonged silence where they once stood.
Before me, the bridge stretched on, fading into crimson haze.
I took a breath and stepped forward—because I knew the answer wasn’t waiting behind me.
