2025-09-05 0:24:43 ¶ ●

Michael isn’t sure how he got sent back in the past. He thinks he went through one of his doors that looked a bit stranger than usual, but his mind is so heavy it’s hard to think.

All he knows is that he stands right where it all started. In Sannikov Land, in front of a yellow door with Gertrude Robinson staring at him with what he now acknowledges as cold eyes.

He could do so many things. He could scream at her for all he’s been through and tell her every nasty thought he’s had over the years. He could take off running in another direction and takes him anywhere but to his fate. He could just sit down and wait for the ritual to either be torn down or completed.

But he doesn’t.

Michael’s fingers feel far too short. His skin feels far too real. So much anger bubbles under his surface that if he tries to let out even a little it’s going to bubble over entirely. And what is he now? Something more than someone who has taken people in his hallway and made them undone. How would he sleep? How would he look at himself in a mirror? How would he see someone become overcome with fear and accept the fact that he could no longer drink in something so delicious?

Michael wraps his hand around the handle and opens the door.