John didn’t waste time.

  The old tunnels were deep in the dead zone, a stretch of city abandoned decades ago after the metro collapsed.

  Most people avoided it.

  Too unstable. Too many stories of people going in and never coming out.

  John wasn’t most people.

  And right now?

  He wasn’t leaving until he found what he came for.

  John moved through the crumbling streets, keeping his steps light.

  He had stolen a map from Vera’s collection—not detailed, but enough to get him to the entrance.

  The collapsed metro line was ahead.

  Half-buried under rubble, overgrown with vines, covered in a thick layer of dust.

  A hole in the past.

  John exhaled slowly.

  Then he climbed in.

  The moment John stepped into the tunnels, the air changed.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Colder. Heavier.

  He had been in plenty of abandoned places before.

  This was different.

  The walls weren’t just decayed. They were scarred.

  Deep, jagged markings carved into the stone. Too precise to be random.

  John’s gut twisted.

  He wasn’t the first person to come here.

  But something told him—he might be the last.

  John moved carefully, following the old metro path.

  Every step took him deeper.

  Deeper into a place the city had forgotten.

  Then—he saw it.

  A symbol etched into the floor.

  Faint. Almost worn away.

  But he recognized it instantly.

  The same emblem from Vera’s book.

  The same emblem burned into his own memories.

  John’s pulse spiked.

  He was in the right place.

  But that meant—

  Something was waiting for him.

  John took another step—

  And the ground shifted.

  Not from decay.

  Something deeper.

  A pulse.

  Like the air itself was alive.

  John froze. Heart pounding.

  He had felt something like this once before.

  Back when he was a kid.

  Back when he had first learned to recognize when he was being watched.

  And right now?

  Something was watching him.

  John exhaled slowly.

  Then, he spoke.

  "I know you’re here."

  Silence.

  Then—

  A voice.

  Soft. Familiar.

  Yet completely unknown.

  "You’re late."

  John went still.

  That wasn’t an echo.

  That wasn’t his imagination.

  That was real.

  And for the first time, John knew.

  The Mask wasn’t just a legend.

  It wasn’t just a story.

  It was here.

  And it had been waiting for him.