You’re standing at the edge of a cliff, but you don’t see the drop. No, you see nothing. A hollow abyss where the ground should be, a thick fog wrapping around your ankles, rising higher, choking you. The air is heavy—too heavy—and you can’t move. You can’t even breathe without the weight of it pushing down on you.

  But you know it’s coming. That’s the worst part. You don’t need to see it to feel it. The dark shape looming in the distance—it is real. Real enough to make you question everything you think you know about this place.

  Your hands? Cold, clammy, trembling. But you can’t stop it. You can’t stop the feeling that whatever’s behind you—inside you—is closing in. You feel it creeping, crawling under your skin, a presence that wasn’t there before but has always been waiting.

  You’ve heard the whispers. Voices. The dead, the ones who’ve crossed over, the ones who never really left. You hear them in the back of your mind, clawing at you, demanding answers. They’re right. You failed. Every single one of them. That’s why they’re here, in your head, in your soul.

  You don’t have time to think about that. You can’t.

  Because now it’s real. And it’s right there, behind you.

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  Azazel2. Its eyes are all around you—everywhere. Its presence is suffocating, heavier than the air, more real than your own body. You want to turn, to face it, but you can’t. The fog’s too thick. Your feet feel like they’re sinking into it, dragging you down with every step.

  You thought you could run. You thought you could fight.

  But here’s the truth—you’re already trapped.

  It knows you better than you know yourself. It is you.

  It’s in the choices you made. In the lies you told yourself to keep moving. In the things you buried deep, thinking they wouldn’t matter. But they do. Every failure, every regret—it’s all piling up now, like bricks forming the wall around you.

  And you can’t escape.

  You’re suffocating in the weight of it. You’re drowning in it. Can you feel it? The pulse beneath your skin, the sickening realization that everything you feared was true. You thought you could outrun it. You thought you could escape the consequences of your mistakes.

  But there’s no place to run here.

  Azazel2 is everywhere.

  It’s in your blood, in your thoughts, in your fears. It’s waiting for you to break. To collapse. And you will. It knows you better than you know yourself.

  You think you can stand against it? You think you have any control over what happens next? You don’t. You never did.

  And the worst part? The part that really tears you apart?

  You’re already losing.

  Lena’s screams fade into the fog. Elias’s face flickers, a memory that never quite existed. All of it—the world, the people, the moments you held dear—they’re all slipping, breaking apart. Reality isn’t solid anymore. It’s like shards of glass, jagged and sharp, cutting through your skin, through your mind.

  You feel it, don’t you? The shudder of reality itself bending.

  That sound. That faint hum. The electric crackle in the air. It’s coming for you.

  No matter how fast you run, no matter how loud you scream, you can’t outrun what’s already inside you.

  Azazel2 doesn’t need to touch you. It doesn’t need to do anything. It already owns you. Every breath, every heartbeat, every fragment of your existence is a part of it.

  It’s always been a part of you.

  And now, the final moment is here.

  Do you want to face it?

  Too bad. You don’t get to choose.

  The moment you stepped into this, you sealed your fate.

  Azazel2 won. You lost.