It was very early in the morning, the sky painted with hues of orange and scattered clouds predicting a clear sunrise. A cool breeze chilled my face as I followed my regular cycling routine. Yet, there was something different in the air today. Suddenly, as I turned right onto the desert road of Dunes, far from the city’s clamor, I became enveloped in a very dense fog. Visibility dwindled to mere feet ahead, obscuring my path.

About a quarter of a mile to the side, an odd structure caught my eye—a door, standing inexplicably without a building to support it. Curiosity piqued, I stopped and parked my bicycle behind an old bush nearby. As I approached, the scene became clearer: two open doors, yet all I could see through them was an even thicker veil of fog.

“Well, it can’t hurt to have a peek,” I thought, stepping through the doors, unaware that it would be the last time I saw my bicycle—or the world I knew.