Michael approached the towering gate, its wrought iron bars stretching up towards the sky. He peered through the gaps, trying to catch a glimpse of what lay beyond.

In the distance, surrounded by a dense thicket of trees, he could see a narrow path leading deeper into the wilderness. He couldn't make out any details of what lay ahead, but he knew that he had to find out.

He reached out to touch the wrought iron gate, testing to see if it was locked. To his surprise, the gate creaked open with ease.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing thoughts. This was his chance to find out more about the captain and his men, and he couldn't let his nerves get the best of him. He hesitated for a moment before slipping inside, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement.

Michael crept forward, trying to stay hidden as he followed the path into the thick woods. As he entered the tree line, he noticed the temperature drop suddenly. The air was chilly, and a sense of unease crept over him.

Michael took the path until it opened up into a wide clearing. The circle of trees and lake around him closed in, creating two semicircles surrounding the expanse of the open space.

In the center stood a pillar of smooth, black stone that contrasted against the star-studded night sky. Its shape was imposing and powerful, pointing to the heavens, and for one second Michael claimed to see the Worm in the skies. He blinked and it had gone. Goosebumps spread across his skin and he felt sweat dripping down his face.

The edges sparkled in the luminescence, as if it had been cut from a larger chunk of rock. The polished black stone was engraved with silver writing - alien and mysterious - shining off the moonlight and stars. The strange inscription glimmered in the darkness, promising secrets and forbidden knowledge.

Michael's eyes darted around the clearing as he tried to spot any signs of the guards. He knew that they had to be around here somewhere, and he didn't want to risk getting caught by them.

Michael started to circle around the clearing, staying hidden in the shadows. He scanned the area for any signs of the guards, but there was no one in sight. He crept closer to the edge of the clearing, hoping to spot some movement in the distance.

As he made his way around the edge of the clearing, he spotted a a faint glow in the distance. He knew that he had to approach it with caution. It could be the guards, or it could be someone else entirely. He crept closer, careful not to make any noise, until he could see the glow was coming from a small campfire.

He took a deep breath and slowly made his way closer to the fire, staying hidden in the shadows. As he drew closer, he could hear the faint sound of voices. His heart raced as he tried to make out what they were saying.

He crept closer, his eyes scanning the area. Finally, he spotted the guards, sitting around the fire with their backs turned towards him. Michael could hear their hushed voices as they spoke in low tones, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.

He watched them for a few minutes, trying to gather as much information as he could. They seemed to be relaxed and unworried, which made him believe that they had no idea he was there.

Michael considered his options. He could try to sneak past the guards and approach the obelisk, but that would be incredibly risky. He could wait until they left, but there was no telling when that would be. Or he could try to listen in on their conversation and gather as much information as possible.

Michael's mind raced as he tried to come up with a plan. Something about the obelisk seemed familiar to him.Suddenly he remembered where he has first seen it. The large stone pillar from his dreams, where the infinitely bright light had tried to show it to him. Almost immediately a phantom pain has erupted behind his eyelids and his hands twitched, reflexively trying to cover his vulnerable eyes.

Shaking off the non-existent pain, Michael focused on the task at hand. The obelisk must be important. He needed to get closer to it and perhaps he would finally get some answers.

Michael circled back around the clearing, staying hidden in the shadows. He intended to approach the obelisk from the opposite side of the guard's camp, using the obelisk itself to provide cover for his approach.

He moved quickly, staying low to the ground and weaving in and out of the shadows. As he approached the opposite side of the clearing, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

He was getting closer to the obelisk, but he didn't know what he would find once he got there. A sense of urgency blossomed in his chest, a burning desire to get closer to the obelisk and uncover its secrets.

As he approached, he could see that the obelisk was even more imposing up close. The silver writing glimmered in the moonlight, and its smooth surface seemed to ripple like water. The silver letters emerged at random from the depths of the inky stone, flowing across its surface for a time before sinking into its depths again.

He tried to make out the words engraved on the surface, but they were still too alien and mysterious to him. He felt a sense of frustration, knowing that he was so close yet so far from the answers he sought.

Michael's mind raced as he debated what to do next. He knew that touching the stone could be his only opportunity to uncover its secrets, but the risk of danger was also looming over him.

If he touched the stone, he could be exposing himself to unknown powers or even death. But if he didn't, he could never get the answers that he desperately craved.

The conflicting thoughts danced in his head, and he felt himself getting lost in the webs of his own mind. The pulsating beat of his heart was the only thing that he could hear as he stood before the black obelisk.

For a moment, he considered walking away, leaving the stone unexplored. But the lure of the unknown was too strong, and he couldn't resist.

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With a trembling hand, Michael reached out and touched the surface of the stone. His fingers felt slightly numb as they made contact with the smooth surface and for a second nothing happened.

His fingers were tingling now, and the silver writing on the surface of the stone began to swirl and dance before his eyes. Suddenly, Michael's entire palm was resting on the surface of the stone, held in place by an unseen force.

The words began to flow together, coalescing into a single point beneath his palm. Michael felt a strange sensation deep within his body, as if he was being pulled apart. Everything went dark before he could even comprehend what was happening.

Michael's eyes fluttered open, slowly adjusting to the bright light that surrounded him. He sat up and looked around, taking in the empty, white expanse that seemed to stretch on for infinity.

Michael's heart raced as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Had he been transported to some other realm, or was this all just a hallucination?

He could feel the hard ground beneath him, and the air was thick with a strange energy that he couldn't quite place. The only thing breaking the monotony of the white space was the black obelisk, standing tall in the center of the room.

Michael slowly stood up, his legs feeling weak beneath him. He looked around once again, trying to find any clues as to where he was or how he had gotten here.

He tentatively took a step forward, and then another. As he walked, the ground beneath him seemed to shift and ripple like water. He stumbled, but managed to keep his balance.

"Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing off the walls of the empty room. "Is anyone there?"

There was no response, only the sound of his own voice ringing in his ears. He took a few more steps, each one feeling more uncertain than the last.

Michael spent several minutes wandering around the white expanse, trying to find any sign of a door or an exit. He tried walking in different directions, but they all seemed to lead him back to the same spot.

He tried yelling again, hoping that someone would hear him and come to his aid. But there was still no response.

Finally, feeling defeated, he made his way back to the obelisk. It was the only thing in the room that seemed to have any significance or meaning.

As he drew closer, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. There was something about the stone that made him feel uneasy, yet drawn to it at the same time.

He reached out to touch the surface of the obelisk, but hesitated at the last second. What if touching it again meant being transported to another unknown place? Or worse, what if it meant being trapped here forever?

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," spoke a voice from behind him.

Startled, Michael spun around and saw a man casually seated behind a pure white desk that hadn't been there just moments ago. His feet were kicked up on the table, leaning back in an equally white chair and holding up a book whose cover was entirely blank. His other hand supported his head at an angle.

His skin was porcelain white and covered with sleek robes of a Shaolin monk, devoid of all color. The only thing that stood out was his hair, a thick mess of deep black.

It seemed like he had materialized out of thin air.

The man continued without looking up from his book. "Sorry that I had you wait, I am a little busy nowadays."

The hand supporting his cheek lifted, turning a page in his book and then returned to its previous spot.

"Go ahead, I am sure you have a lot of questions," spoke the man disinterestedly.

Michael's mind was racing as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Who was this man, and how did he get here? Was he a part of the obelisk's power, or was he just another victim trapped in this strange place?

He took a deep breath and gathered his courage. "Who are you, and where am I?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

The man breathed a sigh. "Doesn't matter. Next question."

Michael swallowed the curse on his tongue. Well, that didn't lead anywhere.

"Where are we?" he tried next.

He didn't see the man's eyes but he could swear he rolled his eyes. "I am sitting behind a desk and you are standing next to an obelisk in the middle of a particle accelerator."

What? Was this a particle accelerator? Michael wasn't much into science but he saw pictures of CERN before. A giant circular structure, design to accelerate particles using superconductive material. It didn't make any sense.

"What does that have to do with anything?" he asked, more confused than before the answer.

"Nothing, but you asked," the man answered in a bored tone.

Michael could feel his patience wearing thin. He needed answers, and this man wasn't giving him anything useful.

"Why am I here? What is going on?" he demanded.

The man raised one delicate white eyebrow. "You touched the obelisk, no?"

Michael nodded, frustration building inside of him. "Yes, but what does that have to do with anything? I don't understand any of this."

The first sign of an emotion showed on the man's face a slight upward tilt of his lips. "You are not supposed to understand."

Michael gritted his teeth, his patience wearing thin. He was tired of playing these games with the mysterious man. "Can you please just tell me what I'm doing here?" he demanded.

The man chuckled softly, his eyes scanning the blank pages of his book. "Oh, I could tell you. But that would ruin all the fun, wouldn't it?"

Michael felt his anger boiling over. He took a step forward, his hands balled into fists. "Why am I here? What do you want from me?"

The man's lips twisted into a sly smirk. "Oh, I don't want anything from you, I am just doing my job."

"Your job is to act like a piece of shit?" he asked as he took another step closer.

The man licked his smirking lips, revealing a black tongue. "No, that's just a hobby of mine."

At this point Michael was seething with anger.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Michael spat the accusation out.

The man leaned back in his chair, his smug smile never faltering. "Quite a lot, yes."

Michael said, his voice low and threatening. "Tell me what's going on and why I'm here."

The man chuckled. "You are so impatient. If you want your answers, you will need to find more black obelisks."

"What do you mean?" Michael asked, his voice shaking with anger.

"You have only touched one obelisk, but there are many more," the man explained, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"And what will happen when I find them?" Michael asked, his fists still clenched.

The man shrugged. "That's up to you to find out. But if you want your questions answered, that's the only way."

Michael shook his head in disbelief. "This is all insane. How am I supposed to find these obelisks?"

"You'll know it when you see it. It will guide you to the next obelisk," the man replied, waving his hand dismissively.

Michael was about to argue further when he noticed the man's eyes flicker towards something behind him. Michael turned to see what had caught the man's attention, but he saw nothing.

"What's going on?" Michael asked, confused.

The man ignored him, his attention returning back to his book. "Ah, it seems someone else is waiting for their turn," he said.

"What are you talking about?" Michael asked, growing more agitated by the second.

The man's expression grew serious. "I'm afraid our time is drawing to a close, Michael. But I like you Michael, so I will give you a word of advice."

The man lifted his head from his book for the first time in the conversation. As he did so, unnatural, primal fear gripped every part of Michael's body. His thoughts became jumbled, a swirl of confusion and fear. He felt as though the man was peering into his very soul, reading every thought in his mind.

His yellow hawk-like eye were intensely focused on him. Like eyes of an apex predator they observed its prey, watching its every move, studying the best way to grip him and tear him apart. They reflecting an almost supernatural darkness that emanated from inside the man, hidden within the white shell.

He wanted to move, but his body refused, frozen solid from pure terror.

"The guards are coming, run."

Before he could respond he was thrown backwards into the black surface of the obelisk.