I woke screaming.
The memory of death was fresh—yet not mine.
A body collapsed beneath me, gasping, broken. A mirror above reflected hundreds of other versions, all falling, all dying, all screaming in unison.
I tried to move. My legs shook violently. My heart pounded so hard I thought it would shatter my ribs.
The corridor stretched endlessly, walls bending, flickering like candle flames in a storm. Whispers filled the air, some calling my name, others mocking me, laughing at my confusion.
"You are late," the man's voice said calmly, cutting through the chaos. "Time is not your friend."
I froze. "Late? For what?"
He didn't answer. Instead, the corridor twisted. Doors appeared, some open, some closed, leading to nowhere or everywhere at once. Shadows darted past, slipping between walls, creeping under doors.
I tried to run. My muscles obeyed, but something unseen pushed back, every step heavier than the last.
Then I saw her.
The woman. From the first reflection. From the first fragment. She stood in the middle of the corridor, frozen, yet somehow alive. Her eyes met mine, wide with fear.
"You can't keep running," she whispered. "They are everywhere."
I swallowed hard. "Who? What are they?"
Before she could answer, the shadows attacked. Hundreds of forms, dark and writhing, surging from the walls, the floors, even the air. They pushed, clawed, pressed into my mind. I felt every memory, every fear, every death trying to consume me.
But then—I felt it.
The pulse inside me surged. Not weak, not flickering. Sharp. Electric. Alive.
I pushed back, not with fists, but with something stronger. Energy burst from me, hitting the shadows, scattering them against the corridor walls. Screens flickered as fragments of reality shattered.
The man stepped forward. "Good. You are learning to fight the impossible."
I gasped, panting. "Impossible… isn't supposed to be fought."
He smiled faintly. "For most, yes. For you… no. You are the anomaly. You survive where nothing else can."
I stumbled forward. Each step was agony and ecstasy, a pulse of pain and adrenaline rushing through every fiber of my being.
The reflections multiplied. Hundreds of me stared back, screaming silently. Yet inside, I felt a strange connection—this was not just fear. This was power.
"You are not just surviving," the man said. "You are changing. Adapting. Becoming more than what the system predicted."
I felt it—my senses heightened, my mind clearer, my energy tangible. Shadows recoiled, hesitant now.
And then she spoke again. "Anthony… listen. You cannot do this alone."
I froze. Her eyes pleaded, but her image shimmered, almost unreal.
"I… I have to try," I whispered.
"You must," she said. "Or you will never wake again."
The corridor twisted again. Doors vanished, walls pulsed. Shadows surged. Whispers screamed.
I clenched my fists, feeling the pulse inside me explode. The energy spread through my entire body, igniting every nerve, every muscle. I was not afraid. I was alive, fully alive.
The shadows screamed, the reflections shattered, and the corridor bent under the force of my will.
The man nodded. "Tomorrow, you will face more. But today… you fought. You survived. And that is rare."
I stood there, breathless, trembling, but unbroken.
And deep inside, I knew: every death, every fragment, every shadow would come for me again.
But I was ready.
I was no longer just Anthony.
I was awakening.