Here, stairs don’t simply go “up”—they climb toward the end of a life. Steps thin out, light fades, and the walls seem to stop breathing. Doors still exist, but open to nowhere; windows remain, yet no longer remember the outside. The space stops being a building and becomes architecture of farewell: orderly, cold, and calm in a way that offers no escape. Death isn’t a dramatic scream here—more like sound slowly withdrawing from the world. The viewer eventually stops searching for an exit, and only one question remains: On the final step, where does a person look?