They stood firm—like shields, like barriers, their bodies tense, their eyes locked on the shifting wall with equal parts shock and wariness.
Ryan and Jay felt a flare of irritation burn in their chests.
Why?
Why did Ray and Kai always do this?
They weren’t weak. They weren’t helpless. They were all born on the sa day, the sa month, the sa year—at the exact sa ti. Yet, their elder brothers still treated them like fragile things, like they needed constant protection. It was infuriating.
But there was no ti to argue.
The wall completed its transformation, the final groan of stone settling into silence.
A doorway had appeared.
Beyond it, a room stretched into the unknown. Dark. Silent. Waiting.
Ray and Kai exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. This was it. The answers—whatever they were—lay beyond that door.
Ray took the first step.
Ryan didn’t hesitate—he grabbed the laptop, his fingers tightening around it as he rushed in after them.
Whatever was inside that room, there was no turning back now.
As soon as they stepped into the room, the stark contrast between this space and the one before it hit them imdiately. Unlike the previous entrance—a dark, narrow passage that forced them to climb down as if descending into a hidden canal—this place felt... normal.
It was structured like a first-story building, with a well-lit staircase guiding them downward. The mont their feet hit the ground, they were t with an unexpected sight.
The room before them was familiar.
Too familiar.
Their breaths hitched as their eyes swept over their surroundings. It was—impossible.
It was their ho.
Or rather, a perfect replica of their childhood ho.
The sa walls, the sa furniture. The sa bookshelves arranged in the exact order they rembered. Even the sa coffee table with a faint scratch on the corner—the one Ryan had made when he was six.
Jay’s hand clenched at his side as his gaze landed on the family photo hanging on the wall. The very sa one that had once been displayed in their living room.
The realization hit them like a punch to the gut.
Unlike the world above, which had changed over ti—where their ho had been altered, rearranged, and touched by grief—this place was frozen in ti.
It was untouched by loss. Untainted by the cruel passage of years.
Everything was exactly how they rembered from childhood.
Ray’s throat went dry. If not for the changes upstairs—the unavoidable signs of life moving forward—he would have sworn they had never left ho at all.
It was like stepping into a mory.
A perfect, unchanging reflection of the past.
.
.
.
An hour had passed.
Now, they stood in a room none of them had ever seen before—yet it felt eerily familiar.
It was a high-tech laboratory, sleek and sterile. The tallic surfaces glead under the bright white lights, and glass containers filled with unknown chemicals lined the tables. State-of-the-art equipnt surrounded them, silent and ominous. Despite the futuristic setting, there was sothing unsettlingly personal about this place.
They exchanged glances, their expressions identical—somber, unreadable. No one spoke, but the weight of unspoken thoughts pressed down on all of them.
How? How had they lived in this house their entire lives and never known this existed beneath them?
The realization sat heavy in their chests. This place—it wasn’t just hidden. It was a reflection. Every detail was disturbingly identical to the ho upstairs. The sa floor patterns. The sa wall textures. Even the faint traces of childhood—the scratches on the furniture, the places where they had once scribbled with crayons. The kitchen, too, held the sa pots they rembered their mother cooking with, arranged exactly as they had been all those years ago.
It was as if soone had recreated their childhood ho down to the smallest detail.
A shiver ran through Ray’s spine.
Then, Kai’s voice broke the silence, steady but laced with sothing unspoken.
"Hey, guys... do you think it was really Dad who was hidden all this ti?"
The words hit like a thunderclap.
They all froze, turning to look at Kai.
For years, they had believed a single truth—that their mother had hidden their father to protect him from danger. That he had been the one in hiding.
But now, standing in this underground replica of their childhood, another possibility clawed its way into their minds.
What if it wasn’t their father who had been hidden?
What if it was them?
The thought sent a chill through the group.
Their childhood mories flooded back—their mother’s strict warnings never to go outside, the way she constantly reassured them that it was too dangerous beyond their ho’s walls. And then, on their fifteenth birthday... she had finally taken them out for the first ti.
At the ti, they thought she was freeing them from secrecy.
But now, standing in the depths of this buried ho, a terrifying question ford in their minds.
Had that been the day she let them out... or the day she stopped hiding them?
This ti, none of them spoke. They stepped out of the hidden passage and found themselves standing in Es’s study. As they entered, each of them placed a hand on the study table for support.
Click.
A soft, distinct sound echoed, and in an instant, it felt as though sothing had been activated. The mont all four of them crossed into the room, the marble that had shifted earlier slowly slid back into place, sealing the path behind them.
The study table began to move. Slowly, it shifted, and as they stepped back, it slid back into its original position, returning to where it had been.
They stared in stunned silence. It was beyond anything they had ever seen. They had long known that technology had advanced, but this—this wasn’t just any modern tech. It was sothing far more sophisticated, like sothing out of a future they couldn’t quite grasp.
Then, their attention turned to the screen where Es’s videos had been playing. They noticed sothing strange—only a small amount of footage remained. Just the bare minimum. And it was as if the video was a one-ti recording, ant to disappear once it was finished.
Reviews
All reviews (0)