The darkness after the candles died was different this time—thicker, heavier, like oil filling his lungs. Orphyn couldn't see his own hands when he waved them before his face. The air smelled of burnt copper and something sweetly rotten.
Then came the whispers.
Not from one direction, but from everywhere at once, as if the stone walls themselves were speaking:
*"You shouldn't be here."*
*"The rules have changed."*
*"She lied to you."*
A cold finger traced down Orphyn's spine. He knew that voice—it was his own, but warped, as if filtered through broken glass.
Suddenly, light exploded from the far wall. Not candlelight, but the eerie blue glow of a mirror that hadn't been there before. Its surface rippled like water, reflecting not the room, but—
A library.
Endless shelves stretched into darkness, stacked with books bound in what looked like human skin. Between them moved shadowy figures, their limbs too long, their movements jagged and wrong. At the center stood Lyx, her red hair the only color in the monochrome nightmare. She was reaching toward the mirror, toward him, her mouth forming words he couldn't hear.
The tattooed man spoke first: "Choose." His voice sounded like grinding stones. "Step through or stay. But know this—" He pointed at Orphyn's doppelgänger. "One of you isn't real."
The little girl giggled, squeezing her headless doll until stuffing leaked from its neck. "The mirror doesn't show what is," she singsonged. "It shows what was forgotten."
Orphyn's double stepped forward. "I'll go," it said with his voice but none of his hesitation. "I know what she took from us."
As the double's fingers touched the glass, the reflection changed. Now it showed Orphyn as a child, screaming soundlessly as shadowy hands peeled memories from his mind like strips of parchment.
Lyx's reflection mouthed: *"Stop him."*
But it was too late.
The double stepped through the mirror—and the glass shattered into a thousand pieces, each fragment showing a different fragmented memory:
1. A burning city where the smoke formed Arabic calligraphy.
2. Lyx plunging a dagger into his chest, her golden eyes overflowing with black tears.
3. A vast desert where faceless figures bowed before a book written in his handwriting.
The little girl clapped her hands. "Now the game *truly* begins!"
The last thing Orphyn saw before the darkness swallowed him again was his own reflection in a shard of glass—smiling the same unnatural smile as his double.