By IMERPUS RELUR
--
The corridor wasn't made of stone.
It was ink.
Light.
And questions.
Kai walked beside Elai, the new version of her steady now, real. Reya followed in silence, sword lowered, gaze never resting.
All around them, mirrors shifted.
Some showed cities he'd never drawn.
Others showed versions of himself—older, darker, smiling without love.
Some mirrors didn't reflect at all.
And at the end of the corridor: a blank mirror.
Framed in gold. Flickering like it hated memory.
> [NEW WORLD DETECTED: Realm of Blank Mirrors]
Mode: Creator-Class Anchor Recognition
Risk Level: Undefined
Potential: Absolute
Kai stepped closer.
The mirror rippled.
> "Be careful," Reya said. "This one doesn't show what's behind you. It shows what you denied."
He touched it.
---
He fell.
And landed in a world made of unfinished versions of himself.
Some begged for closure.
Some screamed at him.
One of them stood silently, drawing a version of Elai with red ink.
> "You're not the only Kai," one said. "You're just the one who woke up."