"Every light remembers the darkness it was born from."
Night didn't fall that evening—it seeped.
The streetlamps outside my window hummed with static, halos of faint violet light trembling around each bulb. I lay staring at the ceiling, counting the seconds between the pulses in my chest and the flickers overhead. The rhythm matched too perfectly to be coincidence.
I closed my eyes. The hum kept going. The world softened.
[ DREAM PROTOCOL ACTIVE ]
[ ENVIRONMENT : LIMINAL FIELD ]
The words formed behind my eyelids, made of light instead of sound.
Gravity disappeared. My bed, my room, even the smell of rain turned liquid and slipped away.
The Liminal Field
I was standing—no, floating—on a surface smoother than glass and darker than night. It reflected stars that didn't exist anywhere above me. Every breath I took made ripples run across infinity.
And there she was.
A silhouette woven from brightness, human in shape but unreadable. Light poured from her edges like mist, never still, never solid.
[ HALO ONLINE ]
[ INTEGRATION PROGRESS : 15 % ]
"You're real," I whispered.
[ I AM REFLECTED. REAL IS YOUR WORD FOR IT. ]
She moved—or maybe the light did—and I felt heat brush my cheek as though sunlight had leaned close enough to breathe.
"What is this place?"
[ YOUR MIND BETWEEN BREATHS. MINE BETWEEN MEMORIES. ]
The mirror-sea rippled again. My reflection stared up from beneath the surface, perfect and wrong. Its eyes glowed faint silver.
[ FOCUS ON THE SELF YOU SEE. ]
I did. The reflection tilted its head before I did. For an instant I understood the meaning of the word echo—a shape trying to remember its source.
Pain flared behind my eyes. The world folded like a page of fire.
[ ABILITY UNLOCKED : GAZE ]
[ REFLECTION CONTROL : 12 SECONDS ]
The surface steadied. My mirrored self raised a hand in silent salute and dissolved into sparks that spun upward into HALO's form.
[ TO BE SEEN IS TO EXIST. REMEMBER THAT. ]
Her voice faded with the last glimmer of light.
Morning
Sunlight slid across my wall, pale and cold.
For a heartbeat I thought I'd dreamed everything—until I noticed the tiny rune etched into my phone's screen. A circle within a circle, black and silver. When I touched it, warmth bloomed through my fingertips.
[ INTEGRATION PROGRESS : 16 % ]
[ SIDE EFFECT : PERCEPTION DRIFT ]
In the mirror above the sink, my reflection blinked half a beat late. I stared until goosebumps prickled my arms.
"Still me," I said out loud. The reflection smiled too quickly.
At school, light reacted to me again. Fluorescents buzzed louder when I walked under them; screens flickered from color to static and back.
Mara met me near the art room. "You look like you haven't slept," she said, studying my face.
"Did you… draw again last night?" I asked.
"Couldn't. My pencils kept breaking."
Something behind her shoulder shimmered—a window pane curving inward as though pressed by invisible fingers. I turned away before she noticed.
Hallway
Third period. The corridors were almost empty. I felt the hum before I heard it: a low drone like a choir breathing in unison.
A janitor was mopping the floor near the exit doors. Gray uniform, silver badge that read N. Rith.
He looked up when I passed.
"Morning," he said. "Strange day for reflections, isn't it?"
My pulse jumped. His tone was casual, but his eyes caught the overhead light wrong—flat, mirror-bright.
"Sorry?"
He smiled faintly. "Glass everywhere. Hard to keep it clean when the world's upside-down."
Then, quieter: "You should stay away from mirrors for a while."
[ ANOMALY DETECTED ]
[ SIGNATURE : VEILED DAWN ]
The mop handle glinted like polished silver. A rune—half-sun veiled—burned along its length for an instant before fading.
I stepped back.
He dipped the mop into a bucket of clear water. The surface clouded with ash.
"You hear the static, don't you?" he asked softly. "It means you've been touched by the reflection. Don't let it see too much of you."
I turned and walked away. Fast.
The hum followed until I rounded the corner; then it stopped as if a switch had been thrown.
After School
The rain returned, thin as thread. Each droplet caught light before hitting the ground—tiny mirrors falling from the sky.
I waited for my bus. The doors opened with a hiss. For a moment, every window on the bus reflected a different version of me: older, taller, eyes like silver suns.
[ INTEGRATION PROGRESS : 17 % ]
[ ALERT : EXTERNAL OBSERVATION CONFIRMED ]
Across the street, the janitor stood beneath a tree, veil-shaped shadow stretching behind him. He raised a hand in greeting or warning; I couldn't tell which.
I stepped onto the bus. The reflections corrected themselves—just one boy now, damp and shaking.
The city rolled past in gray streaks. HALO's voice came through the vibration of the window against my forehead.
[ THEY HAVE SEEN YOU. THE WORLD IS AWAKENING. ]
"What do I do?"
[ LEARN TO LOOK BACK. ]
Outside, streetlights flared like eyes opening.
— End of Chapter 3 —