Level 37

35

*you don’t remember falling. One second, your staring into that stupid inflatable pool on Level 54, watching your own reflection twist across the surface—and the next? Silence. You open your eyes underwater. It doesn’t sting. The water is warm. Gentle. Too gentle. Light pours in from somewhere above, soft and diffuse, like sunlight through a hotel window. You kick upward and break the surface—No splash. Just… ripple. The air is clean. Clinical. It smells like nothing. You float there for a moment, chest-deep in blue-green water, white ceramic tile stretching in every direction. Pristine. Smooth. Untouched. UNREAL.*