Part 2: The Mirror That Refused His Face
In the hidden chamber, Yuuya stands before a cracked mirror that should reflect his image — but doesn't. The thing on the other side isn't quite him. As he studies it, he realizes: this is not a trick. Not a dream. This is the edge of something real. And the door behind him will not close.
The mirror hummed.
Not with sound — with pressure. Like standing near a live generator or an ungrounded wire. Something in the glass vibrated faintly, invisibly, brushing his skin from a world away.
Yuuya stared.
The reflection didn't match the room behind him.
The cracked glass still showed torches, the pedestal, even the faded books on the nearest shelf. But his own body was missing. Erased. As if the world on the other side of the mirror had no place for him.
Instead, it showed... a forest.
Black trees. Red sky. No wind.
Just silence.
And something standing in the middle of it. Not facing him. Not moving. Not even breathing. But present.
A shadow in the shape of a man.
Yuuya blinked.
And the figure turned — slowly, unnaturally, like its joints weren't made for human angles. Its face, when it looked into the mirror, into him, was featureless — yet familiar.
It wore his frame. His shoulders. Even his walk. But its skin shimmered like metal dipped in ash, and its eyes — if they were eyes — glowed a soft, colorless silver.
Then it moved.
One step.
Two.
Closer.
Not in the forest — in the mirror. Toward him.
Yuuya didn't retreat.
He tilted his head slightly. Studying. Measuring.
The figure mirrored the motion, perfectly.
Then it stopped again.
Behind it, the sky cracked open in slow motion — not lightning, not fire. Just space tearing. And the trees bowed inward, as if drawn by the break. The figure turned, as though listening to something distant.
Then it reached out — toward the glass.
Its fingers touched the inside of the mirror.
So did Yuuya's.
The moment contact was made — the glass didn't shatter.
It melted.
The mirror softened like wax under flame, and the air collapsed inward, drawing him forward in one sudden, silent pull.
He didn't fall.
He stepped.
The world flipped.
Stone became grass.
Air became fire.
Noise, absent a moment ago, returned like a scream buried under silence: birds, distant thunder, the groan of twisted metal.
Yuuya stood in a clearing surrounded by black trees.
Red sky above.
The mirror behind him — gone.
Only the forest remained.
He looked at his hands. They were still his.
No pain. No shift. No visible change.
But something had altered the moment he stepped through. His heartbeat no longer set the rhythm in his chest.
Something older was moving inside him now — not possession, not magic — but a pressure. A weight. As though the world itself had noticed him.
He didn't speak.
He didn't ask where he was.
He just started walking.