Davis wouldn't stop screaming.
Elena dragged him away from the broken mirror, blood trickling from a gash on his forehead. His eyes darted wildly, focused not on her—but on her reflection. He was trembling.
"It's not you," he whispered. "You're not Elena." he was frightened; her reflection looked down at him, and void eyes glared down at him.
She didn't argue. Because deep down, she wasn't sure anymore.
They barricaded themselves in the control room. Reznik and Karpov hadn't returned. The compound's layout had changed subtly, with doors in the wrong places and corridors too long or too short. Elena noticed time passing inconsistently. She'd look at the clock, blink, and find hours gone.
"It's the mirror," she said, pacing. "Or... what came through it. It's not copying us anymore. It's replacing."
Davis was curled in a corner, holding a shard of the mirror like a crucifix.
"They watch through reflections," he whispered. "Every polished surface. It's like they're waiting... waiting for us to doubt."
_ _
In the following days, the facility decayed faster. Mold spread up the walls. Lights flickered incessantly. Elena began hearing voices in the static of the intercom—Sarah Adler's, Karpov's, Reznik's, others, even her own.
And the worst part—she started seeing doubles.
The first was Karpov, walking into the cafeteria. Then Karpov, again, stepped out of the infirmary from the opposite direction.
Reznik showed up twice in one hallway. Neither version acknowledged the other.
She set up a trap—security footage looped across three feeds.
From every angle, she watched herself pass by. Three different Elena, in three different halls, all at the same time.
"They're inside the compound," she told Davis. "Or we're not in the compound anymore. We're somewhere else. Somewhere it wants us." her hand ran through her hair as announced.
He didn't answer. He had stopped eating, stopped sleeping.
Elena stood before a wall-length mirror that night. She held up a marker and drew a red 'X' on her cheek.
The reflection copied her.
She turned away and walked to the next mirror.
No X.
Her stomach dropped.
She turned back. The red-marked reflection waved—and winked at her smiling.
---
There was only one way left.
Elena entered Room 313 alone, sealing the door behind her.
The mirror was pulsing again. It wanted her to return.
She stared at the surface. Her reflection appeared.
But it didn't mimic her.
It looked calm. Confident. Whole.
It spoke.
"You don't belong here anymore."
Elena's lips trembled. "Then where do I belong?"
The reflection stepped forward and pushed its hand through the glass.
"Inside. Where the rest of you already are."
The surface stretched, shimmered, and pulled her in.