The Department of Remembrance doesn’t seem quite so innocuous as it did just minutes before. Deel stands at the foot of the steps, Franks walking away through a throng of zombies.
The building, several stories of gothic points, is the only one in the area that isn’t just an erect rectangle. It’s also the only building that doesn’t sync to Deel’s implants. This structure is unchangeable.
He lifts a foot to the first step. Then the second.
As he rises, the weight of the world seems heavy on his shoulders. A Time Management nerd is walking down, except now they don’t seem so nerdy. They’re an imposing figure hovering over Deel, fading from his vision when they pass.
The doors are automated, and as they slide open, they seem to be whispering of doom. Up the steps to the offices, the Pit is a sea of snakes and every door he passes is a gateway to hell.
Marjory’s door feels ten times larger than before. He can taste bile in the back of his throat. He hesitates there, his hands locked in fists at his side. He cannot bring himself to knock.
The door opens on its own. Marjory’s face greets him with a cold, dead stare and a smile to match.
“Welcome back, Samuel.”