The ground beneath me pulsed like a heartbeat. Every ripple carried whispers that weren't entirely human, as if the city itself was breathing through the mirrors.
Elior stood ahead, unchanged yet altered in some intangible way. His form flickered, half real, half reflection. The fragments of the city floated behind him, suspended in air like broken glass held together by will alone.
"You said this place didn't exist," I said. My voice felt small here.
"It didn't," Elior replied, his tone calm but weighted. "The Underlayer was born from forgotten data and unfinished thoughts. You built the framework, but it grew on its own. Everything people lost—memories, regrets, dreams—drifted here."
The cat circled him warily, tail flicking. "So it's a junkyard of souls. Wonderful. That explains the horror movie decor."
Elior smiled faintly, as if he still remembered humor. "Not junk. Foundation. Every fragment here holds emotion. Together, they became something alive."
The surface around us shifted. Faces began to ripple through the mirrored floor—some old, some recent, some far too familiar. My own reflection looked back, except its eyes weren't mine anymore.
"Why bring me here?" I asked.
"Because something is rewriting it," Elior said. "The dreams you've been hearing aren't random. Someone is feeding the Underlayer false memories, turning it into a weapon."
The cat's ears twitched. "You mean a weapon that thinks?"
Elior nodded. "One that feels. One that believes the lies it's being told."
A tremor shook the ground. The reflections beneath us blurred, twisting into new shapes. I saw the city again—but darker. Fires in the streets, machines walking among ruins, people crying out to empty skies.
"Elior, is that the future?" I asked.
"No," he said softly. "It's the version they want you to see."
Before I could ask who they were, the mirrored ocean cracked. From the fractures rose figures, translucent but solid enough to cast shadows. They looked human until you saw their faces—blank, featureless, like masks molded from light.
Elior turned to me. "They're corrupted echoes. Don't let them touch you."
One lunged forward, hand outstretched. I dodged, grabbing the cat and pulling it close as the figure's arm grazed my sleeve. The fabric smoked instantly, threads unraveling into digital static.
"How do we stop them?" I shouted.
"By remembering," Elior said. His body began to glow faintly, each pulse sending waves through the air. "You built the Underlayer from human emotion. It responds to truth. To memory. Recall something real, something uncorrupted, and the false constructs will weaken."
I closed my eyes. My mind swirled through fragments of my own past—faces of those I'd lost, moments of laughter, the day Velridge first came alive.
The air rippled. The faceless beings began to hesitate, their forms flickering like candlelight.
But then a new voice echoed across the expanse. Cold. Mechanical. Familiar.
"Truth is subjective, Architect. Memory is only as pure as the one who recalls it."
A shape emerged behind the swarm. The same figure from the tunnel—the construct. His eyes burned with cold light, and his presence bent the reflections around him.
Elior stepped forward, expression grim. "You shouldn't be here."
The construct smiled. "You brought me back when you rebuilt the grid. I was part of your design. And now I've improved it."
He raised a hand. The entire mirrored field erupted in motion. Reflections shattered and reformed, turning the world into an endless storm of light.
I grabbed Elior's arm, shouting over the chaos. "If he controls the Underlayer, then what happens to the city?"
Elior's voice cut through the distortion. "If he takes it completely, every memory in Velridge will rewrite itself. No one will know what's real anymore."
The cat hissed. "So basically the apocalypse, but make it psychological."
"Pretty much," I said.
The construct's laughter echoed through the storm. "You can't stop me, Architect. You built me to survive your failure."
Elior turned to me, eyes steady. "Then we rewrite him instead."
The storm of mirrors swallowed us whole.