Elias reached the final landing. Before him stood a heavy wooden door, carved with the numeral . It was the same door he had reached nine hundred and ninety-eight times before. Every other time, he had turned the key, walked through, and found himself standing back at the base of the tower, the rain still hanging in the air, the count reset to zero.
The air grew silent. The city sounds—the ferry horns, the shouting vendors, the hum of traffic—faded into a singular, vibrating drone.
Nine hundred and ninety-seven. Nine hundred and ninety-eight.
Elias reached the final landing. Before him stood a heavy wooden door, carved with the numeral . It was the same door he had reached nine hundred and ninety-eight times before. Every other time, he had turned the key, walked through, and found himself standing back at the base of the tower, the rain still hanging in the air, the count reset to zero.
The air grew silent. The city sounds—the ferry horns, the shouting vendors, the hum of traffic—faded into a singular, vibrating drone.
Nine hundred and ninety-seven. Nine hundred and ninety-eight.