Arjun, near-hysterical, bolts the front door. He hasn't told anyone – who would believe him? – so he's alone on a stormy night. By 4 AM, he returns to that basement, clutching a heavy metal crowbar. The ladder into darkness still yawns open.
He pounds out a relentless frustration on the concrete wall with the crowbar. Suddenly, his forehead thuds into something. On the wall, freshly exposed under plaster, is handwriting: "Please don't bury me again." Arjun blinks hard. The letters are written with his own hurried script. He swears he never saw them before.
His reflection glints in the mirror fragment on the floor. Abruptly, there's a click-click behind him. He spins, finding – for just a heartbeat – the reflection of someone standing directly above him on the ladder. A face identical to his own, gazing down with hollow eyes. But when he blinks again, the figure is gone.
Panic claws Arjun's throat. Real or hallucination, he doesn't know. Only one thing is clear: he is tied to this loop. He scrambles up to the hatch and slams it closed. The metal rings on the floor vibrate as if something heavy has tried to ascend. Cliffhanger: On the floor beside him now is a new inscription – scratched into wood: "ONE MORE TIME."