By now, nothing felt real anymore.
Even your room seemed… wrong. Posters on the walls flickered, the sunlight through the window cast shadows that didn’t belong, and the air felt heavier, like it was pressing down on you.
On your desk was another note. This one looked corrupted, letters twisting and jumbling:
“E%#V@RYT#%HING IS A L!E”
Your hands shook. You didn’t remember picking it up. You didn’t know who—or what—had left it. The words seemed alive, like they were moving just for you.
Outside, the streets twisted strangely. Trees bent unnaturally, the wind whispered secrets you couldn’t understand, and shadows stretched too far, too fast.
A figure appeared at the end of the street. No face. No recognizable clothes. Just a blur, flickering like broken code. It waved slowly, deliberately, then vanished.
You wanted to run, but your legs felt heavy, as if the air itself was holding you down. Every step made the world ripple, like reality itself was glitching.
Back inside, your room looked normal again—or at least it pretended to. You sat on your bed, heart racing, and thought: maybe nothing is real. Maybe every memory, every street, every friend, every page of this book… is a lie.
A voice whispered at the edge of your mind, almost too soft to hear:
“You think you’re reading. You’re living. And it’s all a lie.”
And for the first time, you realized: the world you trusted might have never existed at all.
ns216.73.216.52da2
and then Add to home screen.