The moment we stepped through the door, the air shifted.
It wasn't just the cold, though that seemed to bite deeper now, like the breath of something ancient, something alive. No, it was the feeling of being watched. Every inch of this place seemed to press in on us, as though the walls themselves had eyes. Mirrors lined the space — a labyrinth of reflection and distortion.
But this time, it wasn't just the room that felt different. It was us.
I could feel it — the subtle, growing sense that something was fundamentally off. The way my breath felt heavier, the way the shadows moved just a little too quickly. The mirrors weren't just showing us. They were waiting for us. They were hungry.
Alice stood in front of us, her expression grim but steady. "This is it," she said, her voice cutting through the tension. "The Mirror Trial. The final test. You will face versions of yourselves — versions born of your fears, your regrets, and your darkness. Only by confronting them will you survive."
She paused, her eyes scanning us each in turn. "There are no easy choices here. There's no escape from what you'll see. Just remember — you are not your reflection."
Her words barely registered as the air seemed to hum, the mirrors vibrating in a low, almost imperceptible frequency. I wasn't sure if it was the whispers in the air, or if it was my mind playing tricks on me, but I could hear voices. My voice. The voices of the others. All of them murmuring under their breath, repeating the same thing over and over.
"Don't listen," Alice warned, her tone sharp. "They will try to pull you in. Don't listen."
The mirrors all at once flickered, as if they were waking up, as if they had been lying dormant, waiting for us to enter. The glass rippled, distorting like water disturbed by a stone. Each mirror grew brighter, the reflections sharper, clearer. And in them... I saw myself.
But it wasn't me.
Not exactly.
It was me, but it wasn't. The reflection wore my face, but the eyes were darker, more hollow. It stood taller, its posture more rigid. There was something wrong with it. Something... twisted.
I swallowed hard, stepping back. "This is a joke, right?"
The reflection in the mirror smiled at me — but it wasn't the same smile I knew. It was cruel. Mocking. It wasn't my smile at all.
"You think you can escape your own fear, Alex?" the reflection hissed, its voice a perfect echo of mine, but colder, more venomous. "You've been running from this moment your whole life. From the truth that you're not who you think you are."
I shook my head. "I'm not like you."
"Oh?" The reflection's smile twisted wider. "Then prove it."
I didn't know what to do. Everything felt wrong, twisted. This wasn't just some trick — this was me. Or at least, some part of me that I'd buried, that I didn't want to confront.
But the reflection didn't wait for me to react. It stepped forward, and as it did, the glass rippled like liquid, pulling it out of the mirror. I stumbled backward, heart pounding in my chest. This wasn't part of the trial — this was real.
I raised my hands, instinctively trying to protect myself, but it was no use. The reflection moved with a fluid grace, faster than I could react, and before I knew it, it was right in front of me.
"You can't hide from yourself forever," it whispered.
Before I could respond, the world around me blurred, and in the blink of an eye, the reflection was gone. But not for long.
I spun around, my breath shallow, my hands trembling. All the mirrors seemed to be alive now, swirling, showing versions of me — versions of all of us. Arisa's reflection stood in one mirror, her face twisted in agony. James's stood in another, silent, his eyes hollow and staring.
I couldn't stop looking at them. I couldn't tear my eyes away.
"This isn't real," I whispered, but my voice didn't sound like mine. It sounded like the reflection's. I blinked and looked again — this wasn't me. Not anymore.
A cold wind blew through the space, carrying with it the whispers of doubts, regrets, and fears. "What if they're right?" the whispers taunted. "What if you're just like them? What if you've always been the monster?"
I staggered back, gripping my head. The words were too much. The voices... they knew everything. They knew my past. They knew my darkest moments.
I closed my eyes, trying to shut them out, but it was too late.
The mirrors flickered again. And when I opened my eyes, I saw something worse than any reflection.
Myself. But... I was holding a knife. I was standing over the bodies of everyone I cared about. Blood pooled beneath them, staining the ground.
"No... no!" I gasped, my breath catching in my throat. "This isn't me. This isn't real!"
The reflection — no, it was me — turned its head slowly. Its eyes met mine, cold and uncaring. "Isn't it?" it asked. "Isn't it what you're really capable of? You've always been a killer. You've always been the monster."
I shook my head violently, my heart racing. "No... no! I'm not like this. I'm not a killer."
The reflection stepped forward, the blade in its hand gleaming in the low light. "Then prove it," it spat. "Prove you're not the monster. Prove you're not me."
And with that, it lunged.
I closed my eyes.
The mirror shattered.
The air around me shifted once again, but this time, there was no fear. No doubt. No twisted version of myself staring back.
I opened my eyes, finding myself standing in a place of stillness. I was alone. The mirrors were gone, the shadows fading into nothing.
"Alex." Alice's voice was quiet, but it cut through the silence. "You've passed the trial."
I looked around. The others were there, too. They were standing behind me, but they were different. Their reflections — or rather, their shadows — were clearer now, more defined.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
But I knew it wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.
The final trial was waiting.
And we had to face it.