The figure stood only inches from Shi Mu.
Same face. Same voice.
But it wasn't her.
Not anymore.
This version of her radiated something wrong—an echo from the past forged in trauma, fear, and silence.
The reflection whispered again.
"You left me there."
Shi Mu's throat tightened. "I didn't leave anyone."
"You left yourself."
The room darkened.
Not from shadows—but from the pull of memory.
A vision cracked open behind her eyes:
That night.
The fall.
The moment her fingers lost grip.
She had screamed—but she hadn't heard her own voice.
Only the silence that followed.
The figure in front of her—this ghost of herself—tilted its head.
"You never let yourself grieve."
"You survived, but you didn't come back whole."
"I am the part of you that stayed in the fall."
Shi Mu's breath grew shallow.
She could feel it now:
The truth behind the apparition.
It wasn't haunting her.
It was begging to be acknowledged.
"I didn't forget you," Shi Mu whispered.
The figure blinked.
Then frowned.
"Then why did you bury me under strength?"
Shi Mu reached out her hand.
The figure flinched.
But didn't disappear.
Their palms hovered just inches apart—glassless now, no barrier between them.
[System Notification]
Inner Self Confrontation Initiated – Residual Trauma Manifestation
Stability Index: Balanced
Reintegration Opportunity: 1/3
Brotherhood Value +285 (Truth Faced Within + Emotional Acknowledgement)
Current Total: 12,655 / 1,000,000
"I'm not trying to kill you," Shi Mu said softly."I'm trying to bring you home."
The apparition trembled.
And for the first time, it cried.
Silent tears.
Not from pain.
From being seen.
It stepped back slowly.
And dissolved into a mist of light.
Not vanishing.
Returning.
Shi Mu collapsed to her knees.
The mirror was whole again.
Her reflection matched her movements once more.
And her voice, when she finally spoke, was clear.
"I remember all of you now."