The timer blinked just above his vision, superimposed across this strange dreamscape.
[02:28…02:27…02:26…]
His body floated heavily, dragged down by invisible chains. The pressure in his lungs was a vice, squeezing tighter by the second. A coppery taste filled his mouth and his arms started to ache.
The oxygen from the last canister was fading fast. The liquid he was breathing was starting to feel heavier — like every breath cost more than the last.
The riddle repeated again in his mind, mocking.
"I begin where breath ends..."
'A grave? morgue?' he muttered.
It should be something… post-breath.
'But it says, "not death." It walks beside it. So, not quite the end, but close,' he thought to himself.
His eyes scanned the empty building again. The abandoned pool, the peeling paint, the rusted locker room doors yawning open.
Then it clicked.
The showers.
