LEVEL CLASSIFICATION: THRESHOLD-17
Designation: The Hall of Broken Mirrors
Stability: Unstable (Reality is cracking)
Cognitive Hazard: HIGH (Loss of Identity)
Physical Hazard: MEDIUM / HIGH (Depends on how many "yous" exist)
PRIMARY TESTIMONY
Extracted from: Report nº 777-B
Date: [TEMPORALITY UNKNOWN]
Status: ALIVE / DIVIDED
I thought I had left the void behind. I thought I had finally found a place with walls, a floor, a ceiling. A "normal" place.
It was an enormous, white, infinite corridor. Bright lights on the ceiling, flickering in a slow, hypnotic rhythm.
And on the sides... mirrors.
Entire walls covered in mirrors. Of all sizes, of all shapes.
— Finally, a safe place — I thought, wiping the sweat from my forehead.
And that was when I looked at my reflection.
I was there. I recognized myself. Hair, clothes, face... it was me.
But he didn't blink when I blinked.
He smiled when I had a face full of fear.
And then, he waved.
I froze.
— Who are you? — I whispered.
The reflection opened its mouth, and the voice came from the mirror, half metallic, half whispering:
— I am you. But the version that wasn't afraid. The version that stayed strong.
I turned to run, but looked to the other side.
Another mirror.
Another me.
But this one was old, decrepit, skin peeling off, screaming silently: "Why did you let me die? Why did you choose the wrong path?"
I looked forward.
More mirrors.
Hundreds. Thousands.
And in each one of them, a different version of me.
The me that died. The me that killed. The me that loved. The me that hated. The me that never existed.
TECHNICAL NOTE 17: THE PHYSICS OF FRAGMENTATION
This level works like a lens showing what happens to the soul when it separates itself from its origin. Technical data:
- Multiplicity: Here, every choice you made and every choice you didn't make are real. The "You" is no longer one. You are an infinite collection of possibilities.
- The Breaking: The mirrors start to crack over time. When a mirror cracks, that version of you is destroyed, and you feel their pain in your own flesh.
- Invasion: It is not just imagery. The reflections are tangible. They can extend their hands outside the glass. They can touch you. They might want to switch places.
- The Void of Self: The real danger isn't dying. It's forgetting which one is the "original". When you look at too many "yous" at the same time, the mind loses its center. You start to think: "Which one am I really? And what if I'm just a reflection too?"
A survivor who lost an arm in this level wrote:
"Mirrors don't lie, but they show everything. And the human mind wasn't built to withstand its own totality. Seeing all your mistakes, all your sins, all your evil versions... it drives you insane. And the worst part? They want out. They are tired of just watching."
PRIMARY ENTITY: THE FRAGMENTOR / THE SHATTERER
Description: It has no fixed form. It is made of shining glass shards, eyes and mouths that appear and disappear. Sometimes it looks like you, sometimes it looks like everyone mixed together. It dwells at the end of the corridor, where the mirrors are so large they cover the universe.
Behavior: It doesn't run, it doesn't attack with claws. It just talks. It whispers truths that cut deeper than razor blades.
It is the personification of doubt. It is the "What if...?" made real.
Ability: Identity Absorption. It touches you, and you don't die. You simply "merge" with it. You become just another face on the wall, just another reflection waiting for a chance.
PRIMARY TESTIMONY (CONTINUATION)
I ran.
I ran as fast as I could through the infinite white corridors.
But it was useless.
No matter where I went, the mirrors were there, and the "Mes" were there, provoking me, judging me, desiring me.
— Come back here, brother — screamed one of them, eyes completely black. — Let's play being human again!
I closed my eyes.
Tried not to see.
But I could feel them. I felt their cold hands touching my face, I felt their breath in my ear.
Until I crashed into something hard.
I opened my eyes.
I had reached the end.
And there It was.
The Fragmentor.
A mass of glass and light, spinning slowly, with thousands of eyes shining like diamonds.
— You arrived — said the voice, which was my voice, but distorted. — The moment of truth has come. You are not one. You are many. You are confusion. You are an error.
— No... — I trembled, feeling my mind starting to crack too. — I am one. I am just one.
— Is that so? — It laughed, and the sound was like a thousand glasses breaking at the same time. — Then prove it. If you are just one, what is your name? What is your heart? What is left of you when we take away all the masks?
It advanced.
And behind it, all the mirrors on the wall shattered at once.
Thousands of "mes" stepped out of the shards.
All of them wanted my place.
— You are weak! — they all shouted in unison.
— Let me take your place!
— I deserve to live more than you!
I was surrounded.
I was going to be erased.
I was going to become just another face on the wall of the Dreamcore.
Until something inside me awakened.
It wasn't a memory. It was instinct.
The primal instinct of survival.
The primal scream of "I EXIST!".
ANOMALOUS ARTIFACT: THE FORMULA OF UNITY
Scratched with blood on the final wall, before the exit:
I AM NOT WHAT THEY SAY.
I AM NOT WHAT I HAVE DONE.
I AM NOT WHAT I COULD HAVE BEEN.
I AM WHAT I AM.
AND NO ONE CAN DIVIDE ME.
BECAUSE MY ESSENCE BELONGS TO ME.
PRIMARY TESTIMONY (CONCLUSION)
I filled my lungs with air.
Closed my mind to the voices.
And I screamed, not with my mouth, but with my soul:
— I AM THE ORIGINAL!
— AND YOU ARE JUST SHADOWS!
A wave of force came out from within me.
It wasn't magic. It was Pure Will.
The mirrors exploded outward, instead of inward.
The copies screamed and dissolved into smoke, for they had no real substance to resist the Original.
The Fragmentor roared in anger, but shrank, hiding back into the darkness, for the Light of Identity burned it.
The white corridor began to disappear.
The walls dissolved.
And I fell...
This time, I fell outwards.
THE RETURN
I woke up.
But it was different now.
I looked at the bathroom mirror.
It was me.
Just me.
It blinked when I blinked.
It smiled when I smiled.
But I never forgot.
I know that inside me there exist a thousand broken versions.
I know that if I lose myself again, they will come back.
And the Fragmentor is waiting, on the other side of the glass, waiting for the moment I doubt myself again.
CATALOGUERS FOOTNOTE
This level represents internal conflict. The disorganization of the self.
The only weapon against it isn't brute force. It is Certainty.
Knowing who you are.
Knowing where your center is.
And not letting anyone tell you otherwise.
Because that which is one, cannot be broken.
ADDENDUM
If you look in the mirror and it takes a second too long to reflect you...
Don't wait.
Leave the room immediately.
You have already been noticed.