Arden stared at Mirror Kael. Every detail was perfect. The scar through his left eyebrow. The way he stood with weight slightly on his back foot. Military posture but relaxed. The dog tags identical to the ones her Kael wore. Even his voice was exactly right. Exactly as she remembered from two years ago. Before the grenade. Before death. Before everything.
But his eyes when he looked at her held no recognition. No love. No memory of confessing his feelings in a bathroom while she hyperventilated. No memory of the kiss they had shared before she pushed him away. Nothing.
Because this version had never loved her. Had never met her. Had never made that choice.
"He's perfect," Lira said. She stood close to Mirror Kael. Possessive. "I used three stolen Codebook pages to create him. Wrote him into existence using your own power. Gave him all the original Kael's memories up until the moment he told you he loved you. But I changed that moment. In this version he realized he was wrong. Realized he loved me. And stayed with me."
Real Kael stepped forward. Positioned himself between Arden and the mirror version. "He's not real. He's a construct. A manifestation."
"And what are you?" Lira smiled. "You're just as constructed. Made by the Game from Arden's memories and guilt. At least my Kael has clarity. Has all his memories intact. Knows exactly who he loves and why."
Mirror Kael looked at Real Kael with curiosity. "You look like me. Are you my brother? I didn't know I had a twin."
"I'm not your brother. I'm you. A different version."
"That doesn't make sense."
"Nothing about this place makes sense."
Lira laughed. "Oh this is delicious. Two Kaels. One loves Arden. One loves me. Let's see which version is better." She turned to Arden. "What do you think sister? Is your Kael superior? Does his love for you make him more real? Or is mine better because he made the right choice?"
Arden wanted to respond. To defend her Kael. To explain that love wasn't about right or wrong choices. But her throat was raw. Her body exhausted. She had used the Codebook too many times. Lost too many memories. Survived too many stations. She had nothing left for Lira's psychological games.
"I'm going to find the exit," Arden said. Her voice came out flat. Empty. "You can keep your version. Do whatever you want with him. I don't care anymore."
She started walking down the mirror corridor. Away from Lira. Away from both Kaels. Away from everything. The mirrors on both sides showed her reflection multiplied infinitely. Each one slightly different. Each one a version of herself that had made different choices.
In one mirror she was older. Married. Children visible in the background. A life where she had said yes to Kael. Where they had both lived.
In another she was alone. Gray streaking through her hair. Surrounded by books. A life where she had never let anyone close. Never risked love. Never faced the pain of loss.
In a third she didn't exist at all. Just a grave marker. Age twelve. A life where she had jumped into the lake after Lira without hesitation. Where she had drowned saving her sister.
Every possibility. Every path. Every version of Arden Vale that could have existed if she had chosen differently at key moments.
Real Kael caught up to her. "Where are you going?"
"Forward. That's all that's left. Just moving forward."
"You can't ignore this. You can't pretend it doesn't hurt seeing him with her."
"Yes I can. Watch me."
But she couldn't. Because the mirrors kept showing her more. Kept revealing more paths not taken. More lives not lived. And in several mirrors she saw Kael. Not Mirror Kael. Her Kael. But in these reflections he was alive. Happy. With her or without her but always alive. Always choosing to live instead of die.
She stopped walking. Pressed her hand against one of the mirrors. The glass was cold. The reflection stared back. This Arden looked peaceful. Unburdened. Like someone who had never counted forty seven seconds while her sister drowned.
"That's not you," Real Kael said quietly. "That's fantasy. A version that never existed."
"Maybe fantasy is better than reality. Maybe I should have been her instead of me."
"You don't mean that."
"Don't I? Look at her." Arden gestured at the reflection. "She's not broken. Not guilty. Not destroying everyone she touches. She's the Arden who made better choices. Who saved people instead of letting them die. Who deserves to exist."
"She's not real."
"Neither are you according to Lira. Neither is Mirror Kael. Neither is anything in this Game. We're all just constructs and reflections and possibilities. What makes me more real than her?"
Before Kael could answer the reflection moved. Not mirroring Arden's movements. Moving independently. It pressed its hand against the glass from the inside. Its mouth formed words:
"Let me out. I can do better. I won't hesitate. I won't count seconds. Let me live your life and I'll fix everything you ruined."
Arden jerked her hand back. "That's not possible."
"Station Six," Kael said. "Your unpublished manuscript. What was it about?"
"A woman trapped in a museum of mirrors. Each reflection showed her alternate selves. They all wanted out. They all thought they deserved her life more than she did."
"And how did it end?"
Arden tried to remember but the memory was vague. The Codebook had taken too much. She couldn't recall the ending she had written. Couldn't remember if the protagonist escaped or stayed trapped or chose to become one of the reflections.
"I don't know. I can't remember."
More mirrors began to activate. More versions of Arden pressing against glass. All speaking at once. Silent but readable:
"I would have saved Mom."
"I would have married Kael."
"I would have let Lira die and lived without guilt."
"I would have been brave."
"I would have been kind."
"I would have been anything but what you became."
The voices were silent but Arden could hear them anyway. In her head. All the accusations. All the condemnations. Each reflection a different path. Each one a reminder of failure.
"Stop looking at them," Kael grabbed her shoulders. Turned her to face him. "Whatever they say it's not real. The Game is manipulating you. Using your guilt against you. Don't let it work."
"What if they're right? What if I am the worst version of myself? What if any of these reflections would be better?"
"Then they'd be standing here and you'd be trapped in the mirror. But you're not. You're real. You're the one who survived four stations. Who used the Codebook despite the cost. Who refused to choose five people to burn. That matters more than any hypothetical better version."
Arden wanted to believe him. But the reflections kept pressing. Keep speaking. Kept showing her everything she wasn't. Everything she could have been.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Lira approaching with both Kaels. Mirror Kael walked beside her like a boyfriend. Real Kael stood protectively near Arden. Two versions of the same man flanking two versions of the same sisters.
"This is Station Six's test," Lira said. "You have to choose which reflection to become. Which version of yourself to step into. The Game won't let you proceed until you pick one."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I've been here longer than you. Because I already passed my test. I chose this." Lira gestured at herself. At Mirror Kael. "I chose to become the version of me who got what she wanted. The Lira who didn't have brain damage. Who didn't lose two years of speech. Who kept Kael."
"You created him. That's not the same as keeping him."
"It's close enough." Lira smiled. "And now you have to choose. Pick a reflection. Become someone better. Or stay yourself and fail."
Arden looked at the mirrors. Hundreds of versions staring back. The surgeon Arden. The married Arden. The dead Arden. The brave Arden. All of them wanting out. All of them convinced they could do better.
She pulled out the Codebook. Three blank pages remained. Three final manifestations before the power was completely exhausted. She could use one now. Write something that broke Station Six's rules. That let her proceed without choosing.
But what would she write? She couldn't skip the station. Couldn't just manifest an exit. The Game had rejected that in Station Four. She had to work within the system. Had to find a loophole in the rules.
She opened the Codebook to the first blank page and wrote: "Arden Vale chose herself. Not a better version. Not a reflection. The actual Arden who stood here. Broken and guilty and real. Because real was worth more than perfect. Because survival meant accepting who you actually were not who you wished you had been."
The words glowed. Brighter than any previous manifestation. They burned white hot. Consuming the page entirely. The light spread through the corridor. Hit every mirror simultaneously.
The reflections screamed. Silent but visible. They pressed harder against the glass. Trying to break through. Trying to escape. But the light was too strong. One by one the mirrors shattered. The alternate Ardens dissolved. The surgeon. The married woman. The brave version. All of them breaking apart into light and vanishing.
Within seconds the mirrors were empty. Just blank glass lining the corridor. No reflections. No possibilities. Just Arden standing in a hallway staring at empty frames.
Two blank pages remained in the Codebook. Two final manifestations.
Lira stared at the empty mirrors. "What did you do?"
"I chose reality over fantasy. The Game accepted it."
"You destroyed all the other versions. All the better Ardens. You chose the broken one."
"Yes."
"That's insane. You could have become someone better. Someone who didn't fail everyone. Someone worthy."
"I am worthy. Not because I'm perfect. Because I'm real. Because I'm the one who actually walked this path and survived this far." Arden looked at her sister. "And your Mirror Kael? He's as real as you let him be. If he makes you happy that's enough. I'm not going to diminish that."
Mirror Kael looked confused. "I don't understand what's happening. Lira who are these people?"
"No one important," Lira said. But her voice had lost its edge. She sounded tired. Almost sad. "Just my sister and her version of you."
A door appeared at the end of the corridor. Black. Pure black that absorbed light instead of reflecting it. The door to Station Seven. The final station.
The other nine survivors from Station Five were scattered through the mirror corridor. All of them had been dealing with their own reflections. Their own alternate selves. Some looked relieved the mirrors were empty. Others looked lost. Like they had wanted to become someone else.
"Station Seven," Real Kael said. "That's the end. The Conductor is there. That's where we finish this."
"Or where we die trying." Arden walked toward the black door. Her legs were shaking. Her body was breaking down. Four stations of trauma. Memory loss. Codebook costs. She wasn't sure she could survive one more challenge.
But she had to try. Had to reach the end. Had to make Kael's sacrifice in Station Five mean something. Had to prove that the broken guilty Arden was worth saving.
She reached the black door. Grabbed the handle. It was cold. So cold it burned. She pulled it open.
Beyond was not a room or terminal. Just void. Pure empty darkness with weight and presence. Looking into it felt like looking into the absence of everything.
"Wait." Lira's voice stopped her. "Arden wait."
Arden turned. Lira was standing there without Mirror Kael now. He had vanished. Maybe dissolved. Maybe returned to whatever space constructs occupied when not being used.
"What do you want Lira?"
"I don't want you to go into Station Seven alone. Let me come with you. We finish this together. Sisters."
"Why? You've spent four stations trying to torture me. Orchestrated my betrayal. Voted to sacrifice me. Created Mirror Kael to hurt me. Why help now?"
"Because if you die in Station Seven I win by default. I get resurrected. And I don't want that." Lira's voice cracked. "I wanted to beat you. Wanted you to see me succeed. Wanted revenge. But if you just die I don't get that. I just get resurrection without resolution. And that's not enough."
"This was always about revenge not survival."
"Yes. And revenge isn't satisfying if you're not there to witness it."
Arden stared at her sister. At the woman who had planned everything. Who had faked her death to enter the Game. Who had spent nine years holding a grudge over forty seven seconds.
"I forgive you," Arden said.
Lira blinked. "What?"
"For everything. The affair with Marcus. The vote to sacrifice me. Mirror Kael. All of it. I forgive you."
"I don't want your forgiveness."
"I know. But I'm giving it anyway. Because I'm done fighting. Done carrying guilt for something I did when I was twelve. Done letting forty seven seconds define every choice going forward." Arden stepped closer to her sister. "You drowned because I hesitated. That's true. But you survived because I eventually acted. Both things are real."
"You think forgiving me makes you better? Makes you the hero?"
"No. I think forgiving you makes me free. Free from the guilt. Free from the need to keep punishing myself."
Lira jerked away. "Don't touch me. Don't act like we're bonding. You broke me. That brain damage stole two years of my life. Made me into something I wasn't supposed to be. You did this."
"I know. And I'm sorry. Truly sorry. But I can't change what happened. Can't undo the drowning. Can't restore who you were before. All I can do is stop letting it control who I become."
"You're still a coward. Just a coward with pretty words."
"Maybe. But I'm a coward who survived five stations. And I'm going to finish this."
Arden turned back to the black door. To the void beyond. She felt Real Kael's presence beside her. Solid. Loyal. Real or construct it didn't matter anymore. He was here. That was enough.
"Together?" Kael asked.
"Together."
They stepped through the black door. Into the void. Into Station Seven. Into whatever final test waited at the end of the Deadline Game.
The darkness swallowed them completely.
The transition was different from every other station. Not a physical movement. Something else. Arden felt her edges blur. Her consciousness fragment. For a moment she existed as multiple pieces simultaneously. Here and there and nowhere. Individual and plural.
Then she reformed. Became singular again. Standing in darkness so complete it had texture.
Slowly light appeared. Not from any source. Just gradual illumination revealing an enormous space. A terminal. But different from all previous terminals. This one felt ancient. The architecture kept shifting. Sometimes modern. Sometimes Victorian. Sometimes like technology that wouldn't exist for centuries. Cycling through possibilities.
And in the center on a raised platform stood a figure.
The Conductor.
She looked exactly as Arden had imagined. Older Arden. White hair. Silver eyes with no pupils. Covered in scars shaped like words from her own stories. Victorian conductor uniform. Pocket watch that ran backward.
But seeing her in person was different from imagining. This was real. This was Arden from ten thousand years of running the Game. This was what happened when you won and the reward was eternal imprisonment.
"Hello," the Conductor said. Her voice was tired. So tired. "I've been waiting. For you. For this version of you. I've seen eight hundred forty six other Ardens fail to reach this far. But you did. You broke through."
"Are you going to stop me?"
"No. I'm going to tell you the truth. The complete truth about what the Game is and why it exists and what happens if you destroy it."
The Conductor gestured and the space filled with images. Projections. Memories. Arden saw:
The first Game. Ten thousand years ago. The original Conductor. A man who ran it for a thousand years before breaking.
The second Conductor. A woman who lasted three thousand years.
The third. The fourth. Each one lasting longer as the system learned how to break people more efficiently.
The ninth Conductor was Arden. From timeline eight hundred forty seven. She had won by sacrificing everyone including Kael. Her prize was ten thousand years and counting.
"You're not the first," Arden said. "You let me think you were. Why?"
"Because it's simpler. Because knowing about previous Conductors wouldn't change anything." The Conductor walked closer. "The truth is you're just the latest in a long line who thought they could break the cycle and failed."
"I have no power left. I destroyed the Codebook. How do I break a system that's existed for ten thousand years with no tools?"
"You don't. That's the point. That's why eight hundred forty six previous Ardens failed. They reached this moment. Learned the truth. And chose to become Conductors rather than let billions suffer."
"Billions?"
The Conductor showed her more images. The Audience. Not just dead souls watching. The collective unconscious of death itself. Every person who ever died across all timelines. Billions of consciousnesses existing in void. The Game gave them connection. Purpose. Without it they were just formless awareness drifting alone forever.
"The Game is cruel," the Conductor said. "But it's also mercy. It gives death meaning. Gives the dead something to experience. Without it they suffer in isolation for eternity."
"That's justification. Not reason."
"It's both." The Conductor showed the void beyond death. Horrible. Empty. Endless. Aware but without senses. Thinking but without interaction. Eternal isolation.
"If you destroy the Game you condemn billions to that void. Forever. Is that better than what exists now?"
Arden thought about Station Five. About the Deep Dwellers who were transformed consciousnesses. They seemed peaceful. Content.
"What if there's another option?" Arden asked. "Not destroy or continue. Transform. Change the Game into something that gives connection without requiring suffering."
The Conductor stared at her. "I've tried for ten thousand years. The system resists. It needs death. That's what feeds the Audience."
"Station Five didn't need death. It offered transformation. What if we offer that universally? Let every consciousness in the void choose. Transform into collective or stay singular. Connection without coercion."
"You don't have the Codebook anymore."
"But you do." Arden pointed at the scars covering the Conductor's body. "Ten thousand years of manifestations carved into your skin. Use them. Help me transform this."
The Conductor looked at her scars. At words written in flesh. "If I do this I dissolve too. The Conductor only exists because the Game exists. Transform it and I become part of whatever we create."
"Then I'm offering you freedom."
The Conductor was quiet for a long time. Then: "Attempt eight hundred forty eight. Every Arden before chose to become Conductor or destroy everything. But you're offering transformation. That's genuinely new."
"Will you help?"
The Conductor looked at Arden with silver eyes that had seen ten thousand years of suffering. "Yes. I'm so tired. I want to dissolve. Want to stop being singular. Want to become something else."
She held out her hand. "This will cost everything. Your remaining memories. Your identity. Your existence as Arden Vale. You'll become part of the collective. Part of transformation itself. Are you ready for that?"
Arden thought about Kael distributed through the Silent Ocean. About the Conductor's exhaustion. About billions of consciousnesses waiting in void.
About Lira still standing in Station Six watching through mirrors.
"Not yet," Arden said. "I need to tell the others first. Give them the choice. Then I'll come back."
"There are no others. Just you and me and the void."
"Lira's still in Station Six. And Kael. And the other survivors. They deserve to know. Deserve to choose."
The Conductor nodded. Gestured. A doorway appeared. Not black. Clear. Transparent. Showing Station Six beyond.
"Go. Tell them. Then come back. I'll wait. I've waited ten thousand years. I can wait a bit longer."
Arden walked back through the clear door. Back to Station Six. Back to her sister and Kael and the choice that would determine everything.
Back to the beginning of the end.