Chapter 1: The Mirror Doesn't Lie
Noah Vale didn't believe in magic. He barely believed in himself.
Standing in the dusty backroom of Antiques & Oddities, a forgotten shop on the far end of 47th Street, Noah frowned at the towering mirror in front of him. Seven feet tall, rimmed in tarnished silver and engraved with symbols that looked older than any language he knew. It hummed—not loudly, but just enough to make his spine itch.
The old man who ran the shop, Mr. Mortimer, had vanished into the back to fetch "something special." Which gave Noah way too much time to stare at the weird mirror.
"Who even buys this kind of stuff?" he muttered.
Then the mirror blinked.
Yes. Blinked.
It shimmered for a second like water rippling, and Noah saw something—himself, but not himself. His reflection wore a darker coat, stood taller, and behind it… shadows moved like people with no faces.
Noah stumbled back. The reflection returned to normal.
Okay. Nope. I'm not dying in a cursed antique shop today."
Just as he turned to leave, Mr. Mortimer reappeared, holding a small, black box.
"You saw something, didn't you?" the old man asked, smiling too wide.
"No. Just my soul leaving my body, maybe."
Mortimer laughed like Noah told a great joke. "You've got the Sight. Only a few do. And even fewer survive it."
"…Excuse me?"
The old man handed Noah the box. "Take it. Consider it a… test."
Inside was a single silver coin, engraved with the same rune on the mirror's frame. Cold. Heavy. It felt like it didn't belong to this world.
Noah didn't want to take it—but his hand moved anyway.
The second his fingers touched the coin, the mirror burst to life.
Glass didn't shatter—it melted. Light exploded in reverse, sucking inward like a silent scream, and a black wind howled from nowhere.
And then Noah was falling—backwards, forwards, sideways—through the mirror, through nothingness.
Somewhere else…
Noah hit the ground hard. The coin scorched his palm. The mirror behind him now stood in a clearing surrounded by twisted trees and floating stones that defied gravity.
Above, the sky was… cracked. Not stormy. Literally cracked like broken glass, with light bleeding through.
"What the heck…"
He stood up slowly. No signal. No buildings. No sound except whispering wind.
Then a voice behind him.
"Took you long enough, Veilwalker."
Noah spun.
A girl—around his age—stood on a nearby boulder, arms crossed, wearing a dark coat covered in glowing runes. Her eyes shimmered like silver. Behind her hovered a strange metal orb the size of a basketball, slowly spinning with blue fire inside.
She smirked. "Didn't think the next one would be so... soft."
Noah blinked. "Next what?"
"Veilwalker. You. Me. Us. Welcome to the Netherveil."