Level 37.1

*It starts with a chill. One moment your swimming through the familiar stillness of Level 37—endless white pools, that eerie sense of calm. The next, the water around medrops in temperature like you’ve plunged into a glacier. Your skin prickles. Your limbs lock. You try to surface, but the light above—so faint, so far—starts to twist and warp, like the water itself is folding space around you. Then… darkness. When you claw your way out of the pool, your breathing is ragged, your throat raw. The air here is different. Dry. Heavy. Stale, like it’s been trapped in this maze for centuries. The tiles under your hands are cracked and misshapen, no longer the clean, pristine porcelain you remember from the level above. These are yellowed, gray, smeared with grime—some loose, some missing entirely. The grout between them is black and flaking. You are now stuck in The Deep End, and all I have to say to you is… good luck getting back into the shallows.*