A shiver went down Leo's spine as his eyes opened and blinked. **Something was not right.**
He was not at the cave entrance where he had slept. Instead, he was lying on the rocky floor of a **black corridor**, deeper in the cave. The air was thicker here, thick with an un-natural presence.
Then, he heard it.
**Footsteps.**
Leo's frame went rigid as he ascended, his heart pounding in his chest. He gazed in the direction of the sound and saw a form **emerging from the shadows**—the **stranger**.
This did not make sense. **He should be dead.**
Leo had **poisoned his water**, using the red-spotted berries he had found. There was **no way** that he should be standing here, let alone coming towards him with such a strained calm.
"You…" Leo gasped, stepping back. His hand went automatically to his waist, but his **spear wasn't there.**
The stranger stopped a few feet away, his face still **pale and thin**, but his eyes flaring with something else—**amusement**.
"You look surprised," said the stranger, his voice smooth and controlled. "Didn't expect to see me again?"
Leo's head spun trying to figure out an explanation. Had he **applied too little poison**? No, that was impossible. Those berries were toxic enough to kill even a **full-grown animal** in a matter of hours.
Unless…
**This is not real.**
Leo clenched his jaw. He suspected that this was **the mirror's work.**
"Back off," Leo warned, his body tensing.
The stranger simply laughed, taking another step forward. "Or what? You're unarmed. You don't have any friends. And even if you did, they're not here to save you."
Leo's eyes drifted toward the **mirror** at the far end of the corridor. Its face was coal black, foaming like a liquid.
**This is a trap.**
The stranger was not **real.** This was the mirror trying to **play tricks on his mind.**
But then, before he could react, the stranger **attacked him.**
Leo dodged by a hair, stepping back as the stranger flailed at his arm. He spun away, but the stranger moved fast—**too fast for someone who should be dead.**
Leo **swiveled** and **kicked out**, landing a good blow to the stranger's side. The man grunted, but **did not stagger**, his arm tightening around Leo's wrist.
Then, suddenly, he **pushed Leo back—toward the mirror.**
Leo's breath caught as his **head hit** the surface.
The moment he made contact, **pain** flared within his skull.
A burning agony pierced his brain, as if thousands of voices shrieking simultaneously. His eyes grew dim, and he had the sensation that he was **plunging into infinite blackness.**
Then—**something cold and hard grazed his fingertips.**
The **dagger.**
It was within the mirror.
On reflex, Leo **wrapped the dagger around** and shoved it ahead, **straight into the stranger's stomach.**