Wednesday, 8.12 p.m. Most of the rooms of the Institute of Polish Studies were already plunged into twilight. Only the pale light of a lamp was seeping from the windows of Study 107. Julia adjusted her rucksack on her shoulder and glanced at Sebastian, who was just closing his laptop after the evening revisions of his thesis. - 'I have to hand in my notes from the last seminar to Chmielewska,' she said, pointing to a closed door with a sign: "107 - Dr L. Kierski". - 'I've heard that strange things happen in this office,' chuckled Michał jokingly, who was always looking for an excuse to be adventurous. - Strange things? - Julia looked up curiously. - Apparently time does not flow the same here - Sebastian smiled mockingly, but there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes. - Please, it's just a university legend. Despite the half-jokes, all three of them felt the tension when they crossed the threshold of the room. There was a round oak table in the middle, and on it lay an old notebook. Someone had left it open to a page written in tiny, nervous handwriting: "If you're reading this, this is only your third time here. Don't trust what you see outside the window...". Outside, instead of a dark courtyard, there was a flickering pale light, as if someone had stretched the fog and connected it to an unknown city. - Is this some kind of joke? - Julia asked, but her voice trembled. Michael reached out his hand to turn another page. Before he could touch the paper, the lamp suddenly blinked, and a dried red stain appeared on the door handle that had not been there before....