Fracture Point
Some reflections remember more than you do.
The room they found themselves in wasn't a room.
It was a wound in reality—stitched together by broken reflections, floating mirror shards suspended in air like jagged stars. They turned slowly, each one flashing images that didn't belong: a hallway from childhood, a scream in the dark, a hand reaching for nothing.
The six of them stood on a floor of glass so black it looked like a sky turned upside down. Beneath it, shapes moved. Or maybe their own shadows had started moving without them.
Above, stars wheeled in slow, suffocating spirals.
Jess was the first to speak, barely more than a whisper. "Where… are we?"
Eli's voice came back flat. "This is the center."
Lumen turned in place, every shard showing a different fear. "The mirror's heart?"
"No," Nori said quietly. She took a step forward. "The dream's anchor."
Max narrowed his eyes. "What does that even mean?"
A shimmer to the left caught their attention. One of the shards pulsed.
Sky's reflection stepped out.
Only… it wasn't Sky. Not really.
This version was taller. Paler. And he smiled—slowly, hollowly—the exact way the boy in the chair always did.
"You're not asleep," it said. "You're fading."
---
Then came the sound: a chime, sharp and mechanical.
Above their heads, a red countdown blinked into existence.
00:48:29
Flickering. Burning.
Lumen staggered back a step. "What is that?"
Sky stared at it. "A countdown."
Eli's voice was tense now. "To what?"
Jess's breath caught. "To permanent entrapment. This isn't a dream. It's a system. A trap."
Nori's face was pale. "Every time we come here, it keeps more of us. It's learning. Wearing us down."
Max clenched his fists. "Then how do we break it?"
Silence.
Then: a sound. A soft hum. A shard trembled, glowing faintly.
Lumen stepped toward it—drawn.
This shard was larger. Cracked straight down the center. And inside it: an attic, dim and dust-choked. Children in a circle. A girl screaming. A locket swinging from a chain.
The moment it all began.
Lumen's fingers brushed the glass. His breath caught.
"I see it," he whispered. "There's a point. A fracture. One moment where the dream sank its roots into us. If we can get back there—together—we might be able to break the loop."
Jess turned to him, voice tight. "And if we're wrong?"
Sky looked up.
00:36:12.
"Then we never wake up."
---
Then, without warning, the boy in the chair appeared.
No footsteps. No sound.
Just there.
He didn't speak at first. Just watched. Smiling. That smile—the one that had haunted each of them in their own way.
When he finally spoke, it was soft. Gentle. Almost kind.
"You're not allowed to leave."
The dream lurched. The glass beneath their feet cracked with a sickening sound.
The boy tilted his head. "Choose."
Then he was gone.
---
The silence that followed felt like it could break something inside them.
Lumen turned slowly. Steady. Certain.
"We go back. Together. To the beginning. We find where the mirror first looked back."
Sky nodded. "And we break it."
Nori reached out. Her hand trembled, but she extended it anyway.
One by one, the others joined.
Jess. Eli. Max. Sky. Lumen.
Six hands. Six fates. Bound by fear. By memory. By the mirror's lie.
Together, they stepped into the shard.
Into the attic.
Into the first scream.
Back to the fracture point.
And behind them, the countdown kept ticking.
00:29:58.