The reflection wavered.
Jenny, trapped behind shimmering walls of glass, her hand pressed to the other side. Zayn pressed his palm to the same spot, and though he knew it wasn't truly her hand touching his, he felt warmth.
Real.
Painfully real.
Harry's voice broke the silence. "How do we get in?"
The mirrors surrounding them hummed like they were alive. Beneath the surface, images shifted and morphed — pieces of their lives flashing past in an endless loop. Concerts. Interviews. Backstage chaos. Laughter. Fights. Tearful goodbyes. Things they didn't even remember until now.
And there she was again.
Roxy.
Just her face. Her voice muffled, distant, behind another mirror. She looked terrified.
"Please," she mouthed.
Liam's heart slammed into his ribs. "We can't leave them."
Louis paced, glancing around. "There has to be a way through. If she built this place, there's a door."
"There," Niall pointed. "That one's different."
Among the dozens of mirrors, one shimmered with a pale blue glow. It didn't show anything. Just fog. Endless fog. A gateway.
Harry stepped toward it, eyes narrowed. "You think it's a trap?"
"Of course it's a trap," Zayn said. "But it's also a way in."
Liam moved beside them, jaw set. "If we wait, she wins. We've come this far — we go together."
They each nodded, silently agreeing.
No more delays.
No more second-guessing.
The truth — the real one — was in there.
Liam reached out first. His fingers passed through the glass like water.
No resistance.
No pain.
Just cold.
And then he stepped in.
One by one, they followed.
Zayn last — with one final look at the image of Jenny — before vanishing through the veil.
—
The mirror world was wrong.
Gravity pulsed in strange directions. The sky was a fractured dome of black and white static. The ground beneath them was solid, but only barely — like stepping on glass that hadn't realized it was supposed to shatter.
But the sound…
Silence.
Not peaceful.
Dead.
A complete absence of everything.
Louis shivered. "I hate it here."
"This isn't her world," Harry muttered. "This is something between. A holding place."
Zayn looked ahead. "She's close."
They walked, the mirrors bending around them, forming a corridor.
More memories flickered by.
A voice echoed in the air.
"You wanted to forget. I gave you peace. And still, you come crawling back."
The Watcher.
Her voice seemed to stretch across the space, surrounding them.
"You weren't supposed to survive this long. You weren't supposed to remember."
Liam growled, "Then you underestimated us."
A mirror beside them cracked as they passed. Roxy's voice burst through — full of panic:
"Don't stop! She's weakening! But one of you—"
The mirror shattered before the rest came through.
"What did she say?" Louis asked.
Liam swallowed. "She said one of us—"
But he didn't finish.
Because ahead of them, the corridor ended.
And there she stood.
The Watcher.
Not hidden this time. Not shrouded in mist or darkness.
A tall woman in a flowing dress, hair like smoke, eyes like shattered glass. Her presence bent the world around her, and yet — she smiled.
"Welcome back, boys," she said softly. "I've missed you."
They stood their ground, not speaking.
"Look at you. So stubborn. So brave. So predictable."
"We want Jenny," Zayn said, stepping forward.
"And Roxy," Liam added.
The Watcher tilted her head. "Of course you do. You always want what you gave up."
Zayn clenched his fists. "We didn't give up anything."
She blinked slowly. "Didn't you?"
With a wave of her hand, the air rippled.
And the real Jenny appeared behind her — in a transparent cage of light.
She looked thinner. Pale. Eyes wide with exhaustion and relief.
Zayn staggered forward. "Jenny—!"
The cage shimmered, holding him back.
"Ah, ah," the Watcher whispered. "This is delicate. I've worked so hard on you."
"You're not going to win," Harry said. "We remember who we are now."
The Watcher grinned. "Do you?"
The world shifted again.
The stage beneath their feet glowed.
Suddenly, they were back in a stadium.
Full lights.
An empty crowd.
Just the five of them, standing onstage.
A mic in each hand.
And in the silence, their voices played — recordings of every time they'd fought. Every time they'd doubted each other. Every secret. Every fear.
The audio twisted around them.
"I can't do this anymore."
"You're always the favorite."
"Maybe we were never really friends."
Niall's hands shook. "This isn't real—"
"No," the Watcher said gently. "It's just the parts you try to forget."
Liam turned toward the others. "Don't listen. She wants us to fight."
"Because you already did," she whispered.
She raised a hand again.
And one of them dropped.
Louis.
His body hit the stage, eyes wide in shock.
Not dead.
But gone.
Vanished.
Just a single feather floating in his place.
"What—what did you do?" Niall shouted.
The Watcher looked almost… sad.
"One of you had to go. It was part of the deal."
Zayn moved toward her. "Bring him back."
"You'll have to earn him," she said. "Just like the rest of your memories. Just like Jenny. Just like yourselves."
She stepped backward — into a wall of light — and vanished.
The stadium warped.
And the five became four.
Zayn held the edge of the cage, trembling. Jenny reached toward him.
"Zayn…" she whispered. "Don't leave me here."
"I'm not," he promised.
But the mirrors began to close again.
The cage darkened.
And the world shifted.
They were standing alone.
Back in the underground room.
Louis was gone.
The CD case sat in the center of the floor again.
A new message burned across its surface:
"Only four remain. Choose wisely."