|•The Liminal Rooms•|

The Liminal Rooms is a dimension that exists outside of any known physical space.
It has no coordinates.
It has no known entrance.
And, above all, it doesn't seem to have an end.
From the outside, it might simply appear to be a collection of abandoned places. But each space within the dimension is designed around a specific feeling: discomfort, vulnerability, isolation, and fear.
It doesn't necessarily try to kill you.
He wants you to remain aware that you are helpless.
Each zone has its own rules.
And when you leave one, you never know what's behind the next door.

Phobias: Claustrophobia + fear of the dark.

An endless network of underground mines.
The tunnels are narrow, irregular, and extremely dark.
There is no source of natural light.
The walls are covered in damp rock and some areas appear to have been recently excavated.
The worst part is that you don't know how big the place is.
You can walk for hours and still find tunnels.
Some are narrow enough to force you to move sideways.
Others end abruptly.
And occasionally you might hear:
CLANK.
Something metallic hitting a rock.
But you never find out what produced the sound.
The darkness also seems to behave strangely.
Your flashlight can illuminate ten meters.
But sometimes...
The darkness seems to be less than a meter away from you.

Main phobia: Apeirophobia.

A seemingly normal hotel.
Reception.
Elevators.
Rooms.
Carpets.
Lamps.
Everything perfectly clean.
The problem arises when you try to find a way out.
The corridors never end.
You can walk for hours.
The same rooms appear repeatedly:
204... 205... 206...
And then:
204... 205... 206...
But there's something different.
A door may have a small mark that wasn't there before.
A picture may be slightly tilted.
A clock can display a different time.
The elevators are even worse.
You can go up to the 5th floor...
press "Lobby"...
and go back up to the 5th floor.
You never know if you're really making progress.

Phobias: Astrophobia + isolation + spatial emptiness.

A small spaceship.
You don't know who built it.
You don't know where it is.
Through the windows, there is only space.
Stars.
Distant nebulae.
Darkness.
Nothing else.
The ship has food, water, oxygen, and energy.
They never run out.
You can stay there for years.
But the ship is small.
Too small to live comfortably.
There is no real entertainment.
There is no communication.
There is no other ship.
There are no nearby planets.
And there is a rule:
NEVER OPEN THE OUTER GATE.
Because nobody really knows what's out there.

Phobias: Thalassophobia + fear of the dark + fear of being exposed.

Probably one of the cruelest places in The Liminal Rooms...
You are inside a small glass capsule.
It is completely submerged.
At the bottom of the ocean.
There is no land visible.
There is no surface.
Just black water.
The capsule has a small flashlight.
It also has interior lights.
Both work indefinitely.
And that's precisely the problem.
The inner light allows you to see yourself clearly...
But it also makes it so that everything outside can see you.
The flashlight only illuminates a small part of the ocean.
Beyond...
nothing.
Sometimes a huge creature appears in the distance.
You don't know if he was really there.
Because when you shine the light on it again...
He's gone now.

In The Ocean, the existence of creatures is never confirmed.
Sometimes you see something.
A gigantic shadow.
A point of light.
A silhouette.
Something is happening behind the capsule.
But you never know if you really saw it.
And dimension never gives you an answer.
Because if a real monster appears, eventually your brain gets used to it.
But you never know if there's anything there...
It gets worse every minute.

And there is one last thing...
After remaining inside the capsule for a very long time, a small screen appears:
DEPTH: 10,000 m
You wait.
The number changes.
20,000 m
50,000 m
100,000 m
The capsule continues to descend.
But you never feel movement.
And finally it appears:
DEPTH: UNKNOWN

Phobia: Megalophobia.

A completely empty city.
But the buildings are absurdly large.
Skyscrapers that seem to reach the clouds.
Giant bridges.
Enormous statues.
Gates hundreds of meters high.
Streets so wide they look like highways for giant creatures.
There are no people.
There are no cars.
There are no animals.
Just you.
The city seems to have been built for someone...
much larger than a human being.
And occasionally...
You can feel that something is walking behind the buildings.
You can't see it.
But the ground trembles.

Phobia: Hylophobia + isolation.

An extremely dense forest.
The trees are enormous.
Their trunks are so thick that several humans would have to hug them together to encircle them.
There is no wind.
There are no birds.
There are no insects.
There are no leaves moving.
Nothing.
Absolute silence.
Your own footsteps are the only sound.
But there is something particularly disturbing:
Sometimes you walk for several minutes...
And you realize that the forest isn't making any sound when you move either.
As if the place absorbed the noise.
The trees also seem to change position.
Not while you're looking at them.
But not when you look away.

Phobias: Darkness + Megalophobia + disorientation.

A gigantic temple lost in an endless desert.
The exterior already looks strange.
But the inside is much worse.
The only source of light you have is:
a candle.
It is never consumed.
It never turns off.
But its light barely reaches a few meters.
The temple has gigantic rooms.
Columns that disappear into the darkness.
Colossal statues.
Staircases that look like they were built for giants.
Rooms whose height you cannot determine.
You can shine your light upwards...
and the light simply disappears.
You can't tell where the ceiling ends.
Some rooms appear to be hundreds of meters long.
And in some...
The candle illuminates something you'd rather not have seen.

Phobias: Kenophobia + isolation + unsettling nostalgia.

Not abandoned.
Empty.
The lights work.
The classrooms are tidy.
The blackboards have writing on them.
The clocks are working.
But there are no students.
Not even teachers.
Not personal.
You might occasionally hear the sound of a chair moving in a classroom.
When you enter...
Everything is still.
And the longer you stay there, the more familiar things start to appear.
A classroom identical to one you knew.
A desk with your name on it.
A backpack you recognize.
But you should never open it.

Phobia: Apeirophobia + uncertainty.

A completely white space.
No visible roof.
Without a clearly defined floor.
There are only doors.
Miles.
Millions.
Perhaps infinite.
Each door is different.
Some are normal.
Others are tiny.
Some are gigantic.
Some are floating.
There is no set criterion for knowing which one you should open.
And behind each one is another space of The Liminal Rooms.

It is said to be the room where you can go to any level of The Liminal Rooms.

Phobias: Agoraphobia + kenophobia + empty spaces.

A gigantic shopping mall.
Shops open.
Screens on.
Escalators are working.
Ambient music playing constantly.
But absolutely nobody is there.
You can walk for hours.
The venues seem to be repeating themselves.
And escalators never lead to the exact same place.
Music changes too.
Sometimes you listen to songs.
Sometimes ads.
And occasionally...
You hear a voice saying your name over the loudspeakers.

Phobias: fear of being alone, fear of being watched, claustrophobia... but in a twisted way.

The Others is a gigantic wooden structure made up of empty rooms, hallways, stairs, corridors and hundreds of impossible spaces.
Everything looks like it was built by hand.
The wood creaks.
Torches never burn out.
The rooms are completely empty.
There is no furniture.
There are no windows.
There is no decoration.
Doors only.
And behind those doors there may be another room, a hallway, a staircase... or a completely different space.
But there is something that makes this place different:
You are not alone.
There's something else walking around the structure.
The inhabitants of this place are known simply as:
THE OTHERS
It is not known what they are.
It is unknown how many exist.
It is not known where they come from.
But we do know how they operate.
And that's much worse.

The Others do not hunt immediately.
First they observe.
You can enter a room and find absolutely nothing.
Go out.
Walk down the hallway.
And then listen:
Knock.
A door just closed behind you.
You didn't see anyone.
You keep walking.
Knock.
Another door.
This time in front.
And then the steps begin.
THEY ARE SLOWER THAN YOU
This is the only real advantage you have.
You're faster.
If one of them starts chasing you in an open space, you can escape.
But that doesn't mean it's easy.
Because they don't get tired.
Do you.
You can run for several minutes.
They can follow you for hours.
And when you finally hide...
They are waiting.

THEY ARE CRUEL
The Others seem to understand perfectly that you are scared.
And they use that knowledge.
If you hide in a narrow room...
They don't get in.
They simply stay out.
You can hear them walking around.
They stop in front of your hiding place.
Silence.
After:
Knock... knock... knock...
They tap the wood gently.
They don't try to get in.
They just want to remind you:
"We know you're there."

SAFE SPACES
There are hundreds of types.
Gaps between walls.
Ducts.
Small tunnels.
Corridors where you can barely walk.
Spaces beneath structures.
Cracks in the architecture.
Extremely narrow rooms.
Some are so small that you have to crawl forward.
They are all safe.
The Others can never reach you there.
But...
You're never really comfortable.
Because you can feel them.
You are hiding.
You can't hear anything.
Then you look back.
The space behind you is completely dark.
And you hear:
Breathe.
Not forward.
Not outside.
Behind.
You turn on your light.
There's nobody here.
You look ahead again.
And then you see a shadow cross the corridor in front of the entrance.
THEY ARE WATCHING YOU
This is one of the most important rules of The Others:
They always know where you are.
It doesn't matter how much you hide.
It doesn't matter how fast you run.
It doesn't matter how many doors you close.
They can lose you physically.
But they still know you exist.
And they take every opportunity to prove it.
You might be going through a tiny tunnel.
Suddenly...
A hand appears on the other side of a crack.
He doesn't try to grab you.
It just stays there.
Then it disappears.
You can be hiding behind a wall.
You hear footsteps.
One.
Two.
Three.
They stop.
And someone whispers:
"..."
You don't understand what he said.
But you know I was talking about you.
THE TORCHES
Torches are your only light.
And they are also a kind of warning.
When a torch starts to flicker, it means The Others are near.
If one turns off...
runs.
Because one of them is entering that sector.
But there's an even worse rule:
Never extinguish a torch intentionally.
Because you don't know what happens when the structure becomes completely dark.
No one who discovered it has returned to tell the tale.

AND THEY PLAY
This is what truly makes them cruel.
They don't need to kill you.
They can do it.
But many times they prefer not to.
Because they enjoy chasing you.
They may deliberately let you go.
They might see you running towards a door...
and not follow you.
You might think:
"I lost it."
You enter a room.
You close the door.
You breathe.
Silence.
Then you hear:
Knock.
From the other side.
You open slowly.
There's nobody here.
You look back.
The room is empty.
You look at the door again.
And now there's someone standing behind her.
THE RULE OF THE OTHERS
There's a phrase written in practically every narrow place:
"THEY CANNOT REACH YOU HERE."
And below, written in a completely different font:
"THEY DON'T NEED TO."
Because that is the true horror.
Tight spaces are safe.
You can hide.
You can breathe.
You can survive.
But while you're there...
You know they're outside.
Watching you.
Expecting.
And eventually you're going to have to leave.
And when you get out...
They will already be prepared.
Because in The Others, escaping them doesn't mean defeating them.
It simply means getting a few more minutes.

The Liminal Rooms has an exit.
It really exists.
But it never appears upon entering.
To find it, you first have to complete 3 levels.
It doesn't matter which ones.
The dimension chooses which ones are right for you.
They can be:
The Mines — darkness and narrow spaces.
The Ocean — depth, isolation and vulnerability.
The Hotel — infinity and disorientation.
The Forest — nature, silence and isolation.
The Space — emptiness and loneliness.
The Temple — darkness and scale.
The Unreal City — gigantic things.
The Others — persecution, observation, and paranoia.
And others may appear that you haven't even seen before.
IT'S NOT ABOUT "WINNING"
Overcoming a level doesn't mean reaching the end by walking.
It means facing what the level represents.
For example:
🌊 The Ocean
You don't need to kill anything.
You don't need to find a creature.
You have to stay inside the capsule and accept the ocean that surrounds you.
The exit door only appears when you stop trying to deny what you are feeling.
⛏️ The Mines
You have to go through the darkness.
The flashlight may eventually turn off.
And you can't just go back from there.
You have to keep going.
In the dark.
Until we find the way out.
👥 The Others
This one would be especially cruel.
You have to cross an open area while The Others chase you.
Remember that they are slower than you.
But you can't stay hidden indefinitely.
You have to get out of the safe spaces.
Run.
And reach the other extreme.
While they follow you.

THE EXIT
A single door appears.
It has no name.
It doesn't have a handle.
It has no decoration.
Just a small inscription:
"YOU HAVE FACED ENOUGH."
When you open it...
You see your world.
Your room.
Your home.
Your street.
Your reality.
Everything exactly as you left it.
And when you cross...
The Liminal Rooms disappears.
There is no evidence left.

You can never return voluntarily.
Because the exit door only appears when the dimension considers that you have truly overcome three fears.
If you try to go back...
You won't find The Liminal Rooms.
You will simply find your normal life.

There is no "Level 1".
There is no progression.
There is no reliable map.
You can be in The Ocean...
open a door...
and find yourself at The Hotel.
You can climb a staircase in The Temple...
and end up in The Space.
You can walk through The Forest...
and suddenly find yourself standing in the middle of The Unreal City.
Dimension does not respect the laws of space.
And nobody knows how many rooms there are.
There may be hundreds.
Maybe millions.
Perhaps every human fear has its own room.
And that is the true essence of The Liminal Rooms:
It's not a dimension full of monsters.
It is a dimension that transforms fear into architecture.
And the more fear a person feels...
More rooms appear.