The red line burned against the wall like a wound in the dark.
"One of you is not what they seem."
"Find the false one, or be consumed."
The glow pulsed — once, twice — then receded into blackness, leaving them in silence.
The kind of silence that feels alive. Listening.
Then came the click of the door unlocking.
Elara turned sharply. No lights. No indicators. Just the faint shift of pressure in the room.
"Did… did that mean we're supposed to—" Harper's voice wavered.
"Yes," Dorian said. "This is another trial. One of us is the 'false one.'"
"That could mean anything," Jace snapped. "A liar? A plant? A sleeper agent? Hell, maybe one of us isn't even real."
Kemi was already scanning the cracked tablet, its dim screen barely functional now. "They've shut most inputs. Memory indexes are restricted. Mirrors locked. No profiles. We're flying blind."
"We don't need tech," Elara said, stepping forward. "We need truth. Honesty."
A sardonic laugh came from Harper. "And you think that's going to work? After what just happened to Coyle?"
"I think it's the only thing we have left."
The hallway beyond the door stretched longer than it had before. The architecture was shifting — walls more narrow, shadows heavier. Mirrorless, but not comfortingly so.
They walked slowly.
Past doors that no longer opened.
Past hallways that had not been there before.
Until they reached a new room.
A circular chamber, walls draped with velvet black. In the center: seven chairs around a low glass table.
On that table, a familiar object.
A mirror.
But this one wasn't fractured. It was pristine. Oval. Silver-rimmed. Standing upright, tilted toward them like it was waiting.
A message appeared in the center of the table:
"All must sit. One will not cast a true reflection."
"Decide."
Jace backed up. "Oh no. No way I'm doing that. What if it knows who we are and wants to punish us for something we don't even remember?"
"You afraid you'll be the one with the false face?" Dorian asked.
Jace sneered. "I'm not afraid. I'm aware. Big difference."
"You're deflecting," Kemi said. "Which makes you suspicious."
"Oh, don't start with the techie logic—"
"Enough," Elara said. "We either do this together, or we lose someone else. Sit."
She walked toward the closest chair and sat without flinching.
The others followed, slowly, warily, until Jace — with a grunt of reluctance — sank into the last chair.
The mirror pulsed once.
Soft light rippled outward.
Then… it began.
One by one, each person's reflection appeared in the glass — not in unison, not as a group. But sequentially. Slowly. As though the system was thinking.
Harper's image appeared first. Pale. Tense. But whole.
Then Dorian. Stoic, jaw tight.
Kemi next. Leaning forward, her reflection mirroring her exact breath.
Then Jace. Suspicious. Eyebrows twitching.
Elara held her breath.
Next was—
Nothing.
A blank patch of glass where the fifth face should be.
Jace noticed first. "Wait. Who's—"
Then the next image flickered in.
And it was Elara.
Perfectly matched.
Then Harper gasped.
Because the next image… was Kemi again.
But not the same.
This version of Kemi was older. Face drawn. Eyes empty. And this reflection did not move when she moved. It watched.
Jace stood up. "That's it. That's not her. It's a decoy—"
But Kemi was frozen. "No. That's not… that's not me."
"You sure?" Dorian said darkly.
"Yes!" she snapped, eyes wide. "I swear. I don't know what that is!"
The final image shimmered into place — Coyle.
But not how they remembered him.
This Coyle was smiling.
And behind his reflection, she stood.
A figure of smoke and hair, faceless, with one hand pressed against the glass.
Kemi began to shake.
"Elara…" she whispered.
The mirror cracked.
Slightly. Only at the corner.
But enough.
A new message bled across the surface:
"The lie grows in silence."
"Speak your suspicion."
Jace didn't wait. "It's her," he said, pointing at Kemi. "Two versions. One of her's planted. Probably the one right here."
"You don't know that," Elara snapped. "The reflections are manipulated. It could be meant to confuse us."
Dorian crossed his arms. "Could also be exactly what it looks like."
Kemi rose slowly. Her voice was even. "I can prove it."
"What?" Harper asked.
"I've been building a bypass. Behind the interface. I didn't say anything because I didn't know if it would work. But if I can finish it, I might be able to show you what the system sees — from its perspective. Real vs simulated."
"And you conveniently didn't tell us this until now?" Jace said.
Kemi's eyes flashed. "Because trust is a weapon here. And I wasn't sure who was safe."
Elara stepped between them. "Do it. Now. We give her the chance."
Kemi sat back down, fingers flying across the dim screen, trying to pull up code while the reflection of her other self smiled from the mirror.
The lights dimmed further.
The door behind them sealed.
Time was running out.
"I need two minutes," Kemi said, breath shallow. "Don't let them stop me."
The mirror began to flicker.
One by one, the reflections changed.
Not into other people — but into versions of themselves.
Each one… wrong.
Jace's image grinned with bloody teeth.
Dorian's eyes were solid black.
Harper's skin peeled away in strips, revealing glass beneath.
Even Elara's own image stared back — mouth moving silently — whispering secrets she hadn't spoken aloud since childhood.
"This is psychological warfare," Harper whispered. "It's trying to fracture us—"
"Too late," Jace muttered. He was already inching away from Kemi. From the mirror.
The temperature dropped again.
Then Kemi gasped. "I got in."
The mirror cracked again.
Deep this time. A jagged line across its center.
And the other Kemi — the one in the mirror — blinked.
Once.
Then smiled wider.
Kemi's screen displayed a single phrase:
"CONSTRUCT ID: V54-KM-RPTL"
Jace leaned over her shoulder. "What does that mean?"
Kemi's voice was ice.
"It means the other version… is a replica. A clone. I'm real."
The mirror began to shudder. Like it was resisting exposure.
"Truth destabilizes illusion."
"Mirror purge initiated."
Elara shouted, "GET BACK—"
The mirror exploded outward in a silent, glassless burst — shards flying inward like reversed gravity.
Everyone ducked. Screamed.
And when they looked up—
The mirror was gone.
The room was empty.
No other Kemi.
No seventh chair.
Just the faint sound of something… escaping.
Like breath.
Kemi stood, shaking. "They replaced one of us with a reflection. But it failed."
"Or they wanted us to see it fail," Dorian said.
"Which means there'll be more," Harper added grimly. "And next time, maybe they'll get it right."
Jace stared at the space where the mirror had been.
"She wasn't trying to kill us."
"Who?" Elara asked.
"The one in the reflection," he said quietly. "The woman behind Coyle. She's not part of the test."
"Then what is she?"
Jace's eyes stayed locked on the emptiness.
"…She's trying to wake us up."