The night air outside the archives felt heavier than it should. Ash's mind buzzed with questions as he and Alice slipped through the narrow alley, avoiding the main courtyard. The distant hum of the city's lamps flickered against the dark, but in his thoughts, only the image of the empty frame remained.
Three pieces, one truth.
The words gnawed at him, a puzzle half-solved. He couldn't shake the feeling that the society wasn't just searching for the mirrors they were preparing for something far more dangerous.
"You're too quiet," Alice murmured, matching his pace. "That usually means you're planning something reckless."
Ash smirked faintly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Reckless works. They wouldn't expect it."
"They don't expect you at all," she corrected. "And I'm still not sure if that's good or terrifying."
As they rounded a corner, Ash's thoughts drifted back to the man with the serpent ring. His calm, deliberate actions it wasn't just about power. There was a method behind it, a logic that gnawed at the edges of his understanding.
"They're not just collecting the pieces," Ash said suddenly. "They're building something."
Alice frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The mirrors aren't just gates," Ash explained, his voice quickening. "They're part of a system. And that black crystal whatever it is activates it." He tapped his temple, trying to piece together the fragments. "Why would they leave a note? Unless they want me to figure it out."
Alice slowed, her brows drawing together. "What if you're playing right into their hands? They've always been ahead, Ash."
He stopped walking, turning to face her. In the pale moonlight, her concern was etched clearly in her features. But beneath it, there was something else something deeper.
"What aren't you telling me?" Ash asked quietly.
Alice hesitated, her fingers brushing against the silver pendant she always wore. "I found something," she admitted. "In the archives, before you arrived."
Ash's pulse quickened. "What?"
Wordlessly, she pulled a folded page from her coat and handed it to him. The parchment was brittle with age, its ink faded but legible. At the top, a familiar symbol the serpent devouring its tail.
"It's a fragment of their earliest records," Alice said softly. "They call themselves The Keepers of the Boundary. And there's more there was a fourth piece, once."
Ash's breath caught. "A fourth?"
"A mirror broken long ago. They claim it wasn't destroyed it was hidden."
A chill ran through him. If the third artifact could control the gates, what kind of power did the fourth hold?
"We need to find it," Ash said, the words heavy with finality. "Before they do."
Alice shook her head. "And if it's too dangerous? If it's hidden for a reason?"
"I'm not stopping." His voice was sharp, edged with an obsession he couldn't quite hide. "If I understand the mirrors, I control the game. And no one " he paused, taking a breath "no one controls me."
The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken warnings.
Finally, Alice sighed. "Then let's be smarter about it. If we push too hard, we'll break before they do."
Ash allowed a faint smile. "Since when did you become the cautious one?"
"Since you stopped being cautious at all."
They slipped back into the shadows, but Ash's thoughts remained tangled. If the society believed the mirrors were part of some ancient system, what did that make him? An intruder or something else entirely?
And why did it feel like the mirror was waiting for him?
When Ash returned to his apartment later that night, he locked the door behind him and placed the folded parchment on his desk. The city outside felt distant unreal. But in the mirror on the far wall, his reflection stood still. Too still.
He leaned closer, inspecting the glass. For a moment, he saw nothing unusual. But then
His reflection blinked. He hadn't.
The air grew colder. The reflection tilted its head slightly, lips curving into a smile that didn't belong to him.
Ash's heartbeat thundered in his ears, but he didn't pull away. He couldn't. If the mirror was testing him, he intended to win.
"You're not me," he whispered.
The reflection mouthed something soundlessly a single word.
Soon.
A shiver ran down his spine, but Ash clenched his jaw. "If you want something," he muttered under his breath, "come and take it."
The reflection's smile widened before vanishing into the ordinary stillness of the glass. But the unease lingered, curling in the back of his mind like smoke.
They think I'm a pawn, Ash thought bitterly. But they don't understand I'm not here to play their game. I'm here to break it.
Whatever the society wanted, whatever the mirrors were leading to he wasn't backing down.
Not until he had all the answers.
Far beneath the city, in the abandoned catacombs, the man with the serpent ring stood before another empty frame. This one was older its surface cracked, but the symbols still burned faintly.
He placed the black crystal against the stone and watched as a ripple of light spread through the markings. The air trembled, as if something ancient stirred beyond the veil.
"Soon," the man murmured, echoing the word Ash had seen. "He's coming along faster than we expected."
Behind him, another figure emerged from the shadows a woman with silver hair and eyes like glass.
"And when he opens the final gate?" she asked.
The man smiled. "Then, finally, the truth will belong to us."