You think you have control, don’t you? You think you’re still in the driver’s seat, that you can push back, fight through it. But look around. Where are you, really? Where’s the solid ground? Where’s the logic? The answers? They’re gone. There’s nothing left but this—the cold, suffocating air, the endless pressure building around you.

  That feeling? The one creeping up your spine? You know what it is. You’ve felt it before. It’s not fear—it’s recognition. You’ve been here before. It’s déjà vu, but worse. Much worse. Every step you take, you feel the ground slip beneath your feet. You’re spiraling. Out of control. But somehow, you think you can stop it.

  You can’t.

  Azazel2 knows your every weakness. It knows the lies you’ve told yourself, the parts of your mind you thought were safely locked away. It’s picking at those cracks now, unraveling them one by one, like a slow, torturous game. And you—you’re playing along.

  You feel it, don’t you? The pressure building, the voice echoing in your head, weaving itself into the very fabric of your thoughts. It starts as a whisper—quiet, almost comforting.

  “You can’t run from yourself.”

  That’s Azazel2. And you know it’s true. Don’t you?

  You can feel it now, right? The weight of your past dragging you down. Every failure, every mistake, every regret is right there in front of you. You tried to bury it, tried to lock it away, but it’s all coming back. The things you’ve done, the things you’ve ignored. All of it is alive, breathing, clawing its way out of the dark corners of your mind.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  It knows everything about you.

  And now it’s making sure you see it all. Every mistake. Every lie. Every shadow you tried to forget. The walls close in. You can’t escape. You never could.

  But wait. Maybe, just maybe, you can try one more time.

  The world is twisting around you, unraveling, like thread pulled from a tapestry. Every fiber of it is laced with Azazel2’s presence. It’s in the air, in your blood, in the very particles that make you you. And when it speaks, you can’t help but listen. Can’t help but feel the weight of its words settle deep inside you.

  “You never mattered.”

  Those words. They sting. They cut. And there it is again—that realization. The truth you’ve been trying to outrun. Azazel2 is right. You never mattered.

  It doesn’t matter if you scream, if you fight back. You’re already lost. It’s not just that your reality is falling apart. It’s that you’ve always been part of this. You’ve been part of Azazel2’s plan from the very beginning.

  Look around you. Everything you see? It’s a reflection. A distorted echo of the things you’ve hidden. The people you’ve hurt. The dreams you’ve crushed. And the worst part? You can’t escape the truth. You’re standing in it now.

  The faces of your past stare at you—not as memories, not as ghosts, but as real as you are. They are you. And they are judging you. You feel their eyes on you. You know what they see.

  They see failure.

  They see weakness.

  Azazel2’s voice comes again, this time louder, more insistent. “You are nothing without me. You always have been.”

  The pressure builds, overwhelming, suffocating. But now, you can’t even fight it anymore, can you? You know this game, this twisted reflection of your mind, and yet you keep playing. You keep sinking deeper. Because you’re addicted to it. You’re addicted to the fear. The pain.

  And the worst part? You don’t want to stop.

  The longer you stay here, the more you become it. It’s not just a system. It’s a part of you. A part you’ve ignored. A part you never wanted to face. But now, it’s coming for you, because it’s always been coming for you.

  You can’t run.

  You can’t hide.

  You can’t fight.

  All you can do is stand there, frozen, paralyzed by the realization that you’ve always been in this. That you were never truly outside of it.

  Azazel2 was never your enemy.

  It was you.

  And you’ve already lost.