Initially, nothing. No sound; no feeling.
Cold.
In reflection.
He lands.
Not with a crash, but a quiet thud, like dropping into snow. The world around him is dim, warped in shades of silver and charcoal. A twisted echo of Harrington High. Corridors stretch into fog; but they're wrong-mirrored, bending at impossible angles, looping into themselves.
The light flickers unnaturally, like a dying film reel.
A sign above a door reads:
ROOM 4A – EVERYWHERE IS HERE
Ethan gulps. "Where am I?"
A whisper answers:
"Where you remember dying."
He spins. No one.
But the mirrors lining the hallway ripple, showing flashes of people—students he's never met, but who feel familiar. A girl with a red bow. A boy missing half his face. Each stares out of the glass, pounding silently.
Trapped.
Ethan backs away until he hears it.
A voice. Soft. Trembling.
"…Ethan?"
He turns.
It's Olivia.
She is there.
Pale, barefoot, hair like seaweed, Olivia stands beneath a flickering hallway light. Her eyes are wide, lost. She clutches her stomach, as if it hurts to be here.
He runs to her and holds her before he can think. "You're alive-you're here!"
"I-I think so," she whispers. "But I don't know for how long."
"What happened?"
She trembles. "I... I don't remember being taken. Just... fading. Like a dream pulling me in. Then I woke up here. And I kept seeing you-but it wasn't you. It wore your face."
"The Hollowed," Ethan says.
She nods. "It wants to become us. But not just one person. It wants... everyone."
From down the corridor, a scraping sound echoes.
They both look. A silhouette appears in the fog-Ethan.
But not him.
This Ethan moves wrong. Twitches like a puppet. And its face-too smooth, too clean.
"Run," Ethan says, grabbing Olivia's hand.
They bolt.
The mirrored halls twist beneath their feet, shifting with each step. Doors open to different years: one reveals Harrington High in the 1960s. Another, an empty, scorched classroom. One room is full of laughing students-until they all turn to look at Ethan, their faces missing.
They slam the door.
Olivia's grip tightens. "This place feeds on memories."
"And reflects your worst ones back," Ethan breathes.
They stop in a chamber filled with broken desks and suspended clocks-all ticking backward. In the center stands a tall mirror, undisturbed.
Ethan approaches. "Can we go back through this?"
But Olivia shakes her head. "Not unless it lets you."
A voice behind them answers:
"But I can."
Irene.
Only it's not Irene—not fully. She glows faintly in this realm, her features phasing, like static. The Hollowed has touched her, but something of the real Irene clings on.
Ethan steps forward. "You came."
"I told you—I live here," she replies.
"How do we get out?"
"You can't," she says, quietly. "Not unless you leave something behind."
"What?"
She looks to Olivia. "The Hollowed survives on connections. On memory. If one of you stays, the other can return."
Olivia immediately steps forward. "Then I'll do it."
"No," Ethan says, almost too fast. "Absolutely not."
She stares at him. "Ethan-"
"You saved me once. I'm not leaving you here."
Irene watches silently, eyes dimming. "There's another way," she says finally. "But it's dangerous. If you find the Source Mirror, you can shatter its anchor. Destroy the Hollowed's root."
"How?" Ethan asks.
"It's in the center of the reflection," Irene whispers. "Past the forgotten ones."
"The... what?"
But before she can explain -
The walls begin to bleed.
Mirrors explode around them. From the shards crawl imitations - half-formed versions of their friends. Grace, Liam, even Olivia again.
It speaks wrong. Faces mismatched. Voices echoing Ethan's memories:
"You let me die."
"You forgot me."
"I'm still here."
Ethan grabs Olivia's hand again. "Run!"
They flee deeper into the mirror-world, the walls twisting behind them, closing off return paths. It's like being inside a memory that's rotting.
Then -
A door. Plain. Wooden. No handle.
And carved into it: "REMEMBER ME."
Ethan doesn't hesitate.
Inside — The Source Mirror Chamber
It's a circular room of glass. Every surface reflects something different. Not just their faces - but their fears, their failures.
In the center stands a colossal mirror - smooth as obsidian. No frame. No reflection.
Just void.
It pulses.
Ethan steps forward.
"You're the Hollowed."
The surface ripples, and his reflection appears - but it's a thousand versions of himself. Each suffering. Each forgotten.
"You wanted to be seen," Ethan whispers. "But no one would."
The reflection smiles. "Now you remember."
The Final Fight
Suddenly, Ethan's body stiffens. Pain lances through his skull. The Hollowed, through his own voice, speaks:
"You are me now."
He gets pulled forward, toward the void.
Then -
Olivia shouts: "Ethan-look at me!"
Her voice cuts through the fog.
Ethan gasps. He remembers her laugh. Her fierce loyalty. The moment she stood by him in the dark when no one else did.
Real memory.
It pushes the Hollowed back.
Irene appears beside Olivia, her form flickering. She hurls Grace's notebook at Ethan.
"Shatter it with truth!" she yells.
Ethan catches it, opens to the page Olivia drew-the real Olivia.
He presses it to the glass.
CRACK.
The Hollowed screams. Not in sound, but in thought-a thousand erased voices howling in reverse.
The mirror splinters.
Then shatters.
Back in the Real World - Ethan's Dorm
He wakes with a gasp, hitting the floor.
Covered in sweat.
The mirror is whole. Untouched.
Then-
A knock at the door.
Slow. Three beats.
He opens it-
It's Olivia.
Alive. Real. Breathing.
"You came back," she says, voice shaky.
"So did you," Ethan whispers, pulling her into a tight hug. "I remembered you."
She steps back slightly, tears in her eyes. "But what about Irene?"
They turn.
And see her standing in the hallway mirror.
Smiling.
Not sad. Not afraid.
At peace.