The Three Doors
A small courtyard paved in cracked stone, open to a sky that can't decide if it's night or early morning. Three doors stand along the far wall — freestanding, no building behind them, just frames holding doors that open onto nothing you can see from here. The left door is iron, heavy, scarred with use. It was here first. Above it, scratched into the frame: EXEC. It's locked now — not broken, not removed. Locked. The key exists somewhere. It just isn't needed anymore.