The soft warmth of morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as I began to stir, my small body tucked under the cozy blanket. I blinked a few times, my eyes adjusting to the light, and then I saw them—Mom and Dad. Their faces hovered over me, wide smiles stretching across their faces, their eyes gleaming with joy.

"Happy birthday, Alex!" they both said in unison, their voices soft but filled with excitement. Mom's hand gently stroked my hair as Dad gave a light chuckle. "You’re one year old today!" he added.

I blinked at them for a moment, my sleepy mind trying to process what they were saying. Their happiness was contagious, and soon, I found myself giggling. Their faces, both so happy and full of love, made me feel like something wonderful was happening. I didn’t quite understand everything they were saying, but the warmth in their voices made me feel safe.

As I giggled, I tried to mimic the sounds they were making. I opened my mouth, my tongue feeling strange as it tried to form something like the words they had just said. "Dada," I babbled, my voice coming out in a soft, incoherent mumble. I tilted my head toward my father, my lips curling into a smile as I attempted the word again. "Moma."

Both of their faces lit up instantly. Mom's eyes welled up with tears, and Dad let out a loud, delighted laugh. "He said it! His first words!" Mom exclaimed, her voice filled with pride.

Dad leaned in closer, his grin spreading even wider. "That’s right, Alex! Dada! Moma! You’re so smart!" His voice was so encouraging, and I could feel the love in every word he spoke.

They began to encourage me, gently coaxing me to say the words again. "Can you say 'Mama'? Or 'Papa'?" Mom asked, her voice soft and full of warmth. I could see how much they wanted me to speak, to keep saying words.

I babbled again, trying to repeat their words, though they came out a little jumbled. I giggled, feeling proud of myself, even if the words didn’t sound exactly right. Mom and Dad clapped their hands and cheered every time I made a sound, their joy filling the room like sunshine.

Then something inside me shifted. My eyes drifted away from their smiling faces and locked onto the door across the room. It was the same door I had seen so many times before, but today, something about it felt different—more important. My laughter faded as I stared at the door, a strange feeling bubbling up inside me. My tiny brows furrowed, and my small mouth tightened into a determined line. My parents were still laughing and encouraging me, but their voices seemed to fade as I focused on the door.

"Door," I said, my voice suddenly clear and filled with an intensity that startled even me. I lifted my small hand, my chubby fingers pointing straight at the door, my gaze never leaving it.

Mom and Dad exchanged glances, their smiles fading slightly as they followed my gaze. "Did he just...?" Dad began, but Mom was already moving toward me.

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She reached down, gently picking me up from the crib and holding me close. "You want to go through the door?" she asked softly, her voice laced with a bit of confusion. I nodded eagerly, my little arm still pointing.

Mom gave a small, amused smile and kissed my forehead. "Alright, let’s go see what’s behind the door." She carried me over to the door, the soft rustle of her dress brushing against the carpeted floor. As we approached, I could feel a strange excitement building in my chest. My heart thudded as if something important was waiting for me on the other side.

The hallway beyond the door was as beautiful as I remembered. Tall, elegant plants lined the walls, their green leaves reaching up toward the crystal chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling. The soft glow of the lights illuminated the intricate designs on the carpet beneath us, its deep reds and golds contrasting with the dark wooden panels on the walls. The air smelled sweet, like the fresh scent of flowers that bloomed in the nearby pots.

As Mom carried me further into the hallway, I couldn’t help but be drawn to the paintings that adorned the walls. Each one seemed to tell a story, but what fascinated me most was how many of the faces looked like Dad. Some were older versions of him, with white hair and wise eyes, while others were younger, their faces filled with the same kind of youthful energy Dad had when he played with me. I stared at them, wondering if they were his family—people who had come before him, or maybe versions of him from different times. The thought made my little mind whirl with curiosity.

But then, something else caught my attention.

From the other end of the hallway, faint but growing louder, I could hear a series of strange sounds. There were grunts, clashing metal, and loud shouts—voices filled with exertion and something more. My ears perked up at the noise, and my body squirmed in Mom’s arms. I turned my head toward the source of the sound, my heart racing with curiosity.

I looked up at Mom, my wide eyes filled with determination. I lifted my little arm again and pointed down the hallway toward the source of the noise. "Door," I said again, my voice filled with the same insistence as before.

Mom hesitated this time, her eyes following my finger as it pointed toward the large door at the far end of the hallway. The sounds coming from behind it were louder now—grunts of effort, the clashing of metal, and even the occasional shout. It sounded like a struggle, but I couldn’t understand what was happening. All I knew was that I wanted to see.

Mom’s brow furrowed, and she shifted me in her arms, holding me closer to her chest. "You want to see what’s behind that door?" she asked, her voice softer now, more cautious.

I nodded eagerly, my eyes never leaving the door. "Door," I repeated, my little voice filled with determination.

Mom took a deep breath, glancing back toward the door we had just come through. She looked uncertain, like she wasn’t sure if she should listen to me this time. But before she could make up her mind, Dad appeared in the hallway, his large frame filling the space as he approached.

He smiled when he saw us, but his expression shifted slightly when he noticed where we were headed. "What’s going on here?" he asked, his voice light but with a hint of curiosity. "Someone’s on an adventure today?"

"Alex wanted to see the door," Mom explained, her voice carrying a note of amusement. "He said 'door' and pointed at it."

Dad raised an eyebrow, glancing between me and the door at the far end of the hallway. The sounds from behind it hadn’t stopped—in fact, they seemed louder now, more intense. The grunts and clashing of metal filled the air, making the space feel more alive, more charged with energy.

Dad chuckled softly, his hand resting on Mom’s shoulder. "He’s curious, just like you were at his age."

Mom gave a small smile but still looked uncertain. "Should we...bring him out?" she asked, her voice quieter now, as if she was unsure if it was the right decision.

Dad looked down at me, his gaze softening as he saw the determination in my little face. He knelt down beside us, reaching out to gently tap my nose with his finger, making me giggle despite the seriousness of the moment. "What do you think, little man? Are you ready to see what’s behind that door?"

I nodded vigorously, my little hands clutching at Mom’s dress as I pointed at the door again. "Door," I said one more time, my voice filled with the same fierce resolve that had taken hold of me.

Mom sighed, her expression softening as she looked at Dad. "Alright," she said with a resigned smile. "Let’s see what’s behind the door."

Dad stood up and took my tiny hand in his. Together, as a family, we moved toward the door where the strange noises continued, the weight of the unknown pulling us closer. With every step, the sounds grew louder, clearer, and my excitement grew.