Opening Monologue:
"Some places don't wait for you to enter them.
They reach for you first.
And when walls start remembering your footsteps before you take them…
you're already deeper than you meant to be."
---
Scene 1 — A Corridor That Isn't on Any Map
The morning hum of Homelight feels off.
Quieter.
Like someone pressed a hand over the world's mouth.
Lullaby stands at the edge of a long, narrow passage he's never noticed before.
Not forbidden, not guarded…
just overlooked.
The orb floats beside him, glowing a soft warning amber.
Lullaby whispers,
"Where did this come from…?"
The corridor is lined with golden veins, but unlike the others, these ones pulse backward — light running from the end toward the entrance, like something is pulling energy inward.
Curiosity wins.
He steps inside.
The pulse reverses.
Now it beats toward him.
Like a greeting.
Or a recognition.
---
Scene 2 — The Walls Begin to Play Memories
As Lullaby walks, the golden veins flicker.
Not randomly.
They sync to his steps.
Every footfall = a soft glow.
Every breath = a ripple of light across the walls.
The corridor starts to hum in a pitch that matches Lullaby's own voice vibration.
The orb notices first, letting out a flurry of chimes — anxious, protective.
Then the walls shift.
Not physically… but visually.
Golden shapes swirl across the surfaces, forming a silent, shimmering reenactment:
A child walking this very corridor.
Small.
Shadow-bodied.
Mask slightly cracked.
The same height as Lullaby.
He stops.
The figure stops.
He tilts his head.
It copies him.
Lullaby breathes out, voice trembling:
"…That's not me."
Because the figure's mask has a different crack — one he doesn't recognize.
The orb floats in front of him, trying to block the projection, but the walls keep shifting.
The memory-child continues walking, looking over its shoulder as if searching for someone.
Then the memory glitches.
The child freezes mid-step.
The light flickers.
A faint, frightened whisper echoes through the corridor:
"Don't… follow…"
The projection dissolves.
---
Scene 3 — The Corridor Reacts to His Shadow
The golden veins brighten again — but this time they aren't syncing to his footsteps.
They're syncing to his shadow.
Lullaby's dark form stretches along the floor…
and the veins glow wherever his shadow touches, tracing its outline like it's the real him.
He moves his hand — slowly.
His shadow moves — slowly.
The veins flare — instantly.
It's not following him…
It's reading him.
The orb becomes frantic, circling him in tight loops, trying to disrupt the connection.
Lullaby whispers,
"Are you… looking for someone inside me?"
The corridor answers with a deep vibration.
Not threatening.
Not angry.
Just… aware.
The golden veins pulse in a pattern:
You.
Not you.
You.
Not you.
Like the world is confused — or checking for a match.
---
Scene 4 — A Door That Shouldn't Open
At the end of the corridor sits a small circular door — not the great Legendary Door, but a minor, forgotten hatch.
It hadn't been visible a moment ago.
Now it is.
As Lullaby approaches, his shadow touches the metal.
The door slides open instantly.
The orb lets out a sharp alarm chime, but it's too late — a faint breeze slips out of the hatch, carrying the smell of
old dust,
cold metal,
and something like…
rain.
Lullaby's visor fogs for a second.
The hatch glows faintly…
…then dims…
…then glows again…
Like it's trying to decide whether or not to welcome him.
He steps closer.
---
Scene 5 — The Memory Echo
Inside the hatch is a small circular room — empty except for a single puddle of white light on the floor.
Lullaby kneels down, confused.
The white light flickers.
Then it projects something upward:
A memory echo.
A face.
A Galaby child — but older than him.
Mask scratched.
Eye glow dim.
Voice leaking through static.
"Why did you… leave me behind?"
Lullaby jerks back, heart pounding.
He doesn't know this child.
He's never been here.
He hasn't left anyone behind.
But the memory thinks he has.
The orb slams into his chest, pushing him backward.
The white light sputters.
The memory-child glitch-whispers:
"Find me…
before he does…"
The projection collapses.
The puddle of white hardens into a thin white crack in the floor — like a scar.
The corridor begins dimming fast.
The golden veins retract.
Something is waking deeper inside the Door.
Something that knows Lullaby stepped somewhere he shouldn't have.
---
Final Beat
Lullaby runs back toward Homelight, the orb frantically chiming behind him.
The corridor returns to normal — silent, still, forgetful.
As if it never remembered him at all.
But when they reach the entrance, Lullaby sees it:
A faint golden imprint on the floor.
A footprint.
The exact size of his.
But he didn't leave it.