Chapter 2: The Stranger in the Market

Elias spent the rest of the day trying to convince himself the morning had been a hallucination. The door, the note, the impossible room—they all felt like fragments of a vivid nightmare. Yet the weight of the envelope and the cryptic warning clung to his thoughts like a stubborn shadow.

By evening, his curiosity overwhelmed him. Seeking distraction, he wandered to the nearby market square, a lively patchwork of stalls, street performers, and chatter. The bustle was grounding, ordinary—a welcome contrast to the surreal events of his home.

He browsed aimlessly until a peculiar stall caught his eye. Unlike the others, which displayed colorful produce or handmade trinkets, this one had only a single item: a tarnished silver pocket watch. Behind it sat a woman in her late sixties, her face lined but her eyes sharp and bright.

“Looking for something, Mr. Thorn?” she asked, her voice cutting through the din like a blade.

Elias froze. “How do you know my name?”

The woman smiled faintly, her expression unreadable. “I know many things. Like the fact that you’ve seen the door. And you’ve read the note.”

His stomach tightened. He glanced around, half-expecting someone to leap out and yell, Gotcha! But the crowd moved on, oblivious.

“Who are you?” he demanded, lowering his voice.

She leaned forward, her tone softening. “A friend. Someone who’s been where you are. You’ve opened the first door, but there will be others. You must be careful. The choices you make—” She hesitated. “They will ripple further than you can imagine.”

Elias stared at her, suspicion warring with intrigue. “Why should I trust you?”

She tapped the pocket watch. “Because when this stops ticking, you’ll need me. And it will stop soon.”

Before he could respond, she vanished into the crowd. The watch remained, ticking steadily on the stall. Elias reached out, hesitated, then picked it up.

The hands immediately froze.