Rizal felt the temperature drop another degree as he continued deeper into the factory, his breath visible in the cold air. The whispers were growing louder now, as if the building itself was coming alive, closing in around him. He gripped his flashlight tighter, scanning his surroundings. The factory’s walls were cracked, decaying, but there was something behind them—something ancient, hidden.

He stumbled upon a doorway that led to a part of the factory he had never seen before. It was tucked away in a corner, as if the building had deliberately kept it secret. The door creaked open with an agonizing sound, and the moment he stepped inside, he was hit with a wave of putrid air. The room felt suffocating, dark, and strangely... alive. The walls were lined with ancient markings, symbols that Rizal didn’t recognize. They pulsed with an eerie, sickly light.

The whispers were now a cacophony, swirling around him like a storm. They seemed to come from every direction, from the shadows that danced on the walls. Rizal couldn’t make out the words, but he felt their urgency. Get out. Run.

But something tugged at him, urging him to stay. He reached forward and touched one of the symbols on the wall. The instant his fingers made contact, a violent jolt shot through his body. His vision blurred. The ground beneath his feet shifted, and a deep rumbling filled the air, as if the factory itself was waking up from a long slumber.

The room around him began to twist, distort. His surroundings melted into a dark, oppressive void. He was falling. No! He tried to scream, but the sound was swallowed by the darkness.