Leo crouched at the riverbank, carefully plucking a few broad-leaved plants that occupied the crevices between the rocks. Their veins pulsed faintly in the filtered light of the forest canopy, an odd feature that attracted his attention. His hand trembled slightly as he activated God's Eye, and the usual flood of awareness swept through his mind.
[Azure Brineleaf] – Releases a natural salt-like material when soaked in water. Used historically to preserve food.
Leo's eyes widened. Salt.
He had not been aware until this moment, but he had not consumed anything salty since he arrived in this world. Of more significance, this would preserve meat, answering one of his greatest fears. If I can dry or salt food, I will not have to hunt and forage as much.
Content with his find, he stuffed a few of the leaves into his pocket and rose from the ground. His gaze drifted towards the forest. Though he saw no movement, the lingering tension within his stomach remained. The sensation of being watched was not gone.
Shrugging off the tension, he walked back toward the cave.
Leo walked into the black cave, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. As he progressed further into the cave, something on the ground caught his eye.
A rusty dagger, half-buried under a mound of dust and rock.
Leo dropped to his knee and carefully pulled it out. The handle was smoothed down, the blade dulled and flaked, but it was obviously still a weapon. He activated God's Eye again.
[Unnamed Dagger – Previously magic-enchanted, it now is decayed. Traces of magical presence littered, but latent.]
His hand held it tighter. So these weapons decay over time? He wondered if they could also be restored. Maybe reforged or re-enchanted, somehow. That would come in useful later on.
With the dagger in his hand, a light touch brushed the back of his mind—a breath, too vague to notice, as if the cave itself was exhaling.
Leo tensed, glancing around into the black hallways. Nothing.
He breathed slowly. "Just my imagination," he muttered to himself, shoving the knife into his waistband and deeper into the cave.
The mirror room looked just the same—an ornate silver frame, its surface reflecting only a nothing of blackness. Leo approached it slowly.
This time, he was going to discover what it was.
He reached out and brushed against the surface. Cold, smooth, unyielding. No reaction. As before.
Intrigued, he stood back and crossed his arms. "What are you hiding?"
He pulled out the rusty blade, intending to put God's Eye on the mirror itself. But as he readjusted his grip—
The blade dropped from his fingers.
It struck the face of the mirror.
And sank.
Leo's breath caught in his throat. The dagger never ricocheted off or touched the glass. It simply disappeared into the glass of the mirror, as if a rock into water.
The cave buzzed with a low hum.
Leo stepped back as a rune flashed to life on the mirror frame, pouring out an unearthly, silver light. It pulsed once. Twice. Then vanished.
The whispery feeling returned—louder now.
Leo swallowed. The mirror had stolen the dagger. But why? Had it sucked it in? Broken it? Was it waiting for something else?
His fingers nervously fluttered with the thought of whether he had the courage to attempt another thing. But at the back of his mind was a voice telling him not to test fate.
Not yet.
He backed off slowly, never taking his gaze from the mirror, and turned and left the room.
As he walked into the central cavern, he gasped. What the hell is this thing?
One thing was certain.
This cave wasn't shelter. It was something more. And he wasn't alone in it.