The voices coalesced into a single, haunting phrase: "I am not alone. I am not safe."
I stumbled backward, tripping over my own feet. As I fell, the screen went dark, and the whispers ceased. I scrambled to my feet, desperate to escape the room and its haunted diagnostic box.
The screen flickered to life, displaying a cryptic message: "Patient Profile: Echo-1. Diagnosis: Sanity fragmented. Treatment: Ongoing."
As I watched in horror, the box began to emit a low hum, and the air around me began to distort. I realized that I was now trapped in a never-ending cycle of fear and madness, forever bound to the diagnostic box and its dark, abyssal power.
The voices coalesced into a single, haunting phrase: "I am not alone. I am not safe."
I stumbled backward, tripping over my own feet. As I fell, the screen went dark, and the whispers ceased. I scrambled to my feet, desperate to escape the room and its haunted diagnostic box.
The screen flickered to life, displaying a cryptic message: "Patient Profile: Echo-1. Diagnosis: Sanity fragmented. Treatment: Ongoing."
As I watched in horror, the box began to emit a low hum, and the air around me began to distort. I realized that I was now trapped in a never-ending cycle of fear and madness, forever bound to the diagnostic box and its dark, abyssal power.
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