They ran—at first.
Arthur led them through the mirrored corridors like he already knew the way, never hesitating, never pausing to breathe. The glass beneath their feet began to crack with each step, but the mirrors around them kept shifting, revealing new hallways, new horrors.
Finally, they stopped in a chamber.
It was round, silent, and cold. Twelve mirrors circled the room like tombstones. But these were different—etched with names.
One of them read:Evelyn Mire - Taken, Not Forgotten
Another:Thomas Vale - Refused the Trade
Luke stood in the center, panting. "What… is this place?"
Arthur stepped closer to one of the mirrors. "This is a vault. A place where the mirror keeps memories. Or mistakes."
Inside each mirror, a person stood frozen in time, eyes wide, mouths open in silent screams or stares of confusion. Trapped like bugs in glass.
Luke walked toward one.
The girl inside looked young. Maybe fifteen. Her hands were pressed against the glass, as if she had spent years begging to be let out. Then her eyes moved. She looked at him.
Luke stumbled back.
"She's alive!" he gasped.
Arthur nodded. "Conscious, maybe. But not alive. Not in the way we are."
Luke turned to him, heart pounding. "What is this place really?"
Arthur's eyes narrowed, calculating. "This realm doesn't belong to the physical world. It's a space between—feeding on what we leave behind: regret, fear, doubt. The people who go missing aren't killed. They're… absorbed. Reflections of their worst selves pulled in. And once the mirror learns your name—"
"It keeps it."
The voice didn't come from Arthur.
It came from behind them.
A woman stood at the entrance to the chamber. Pale skin. Long black hair. Eyes like cracked glass.
She didn't blink. She didn't breathe.
And she looked exactly like one of the frozen figures.
Luke backed up. "Arthur…"
Arthur's voice was calm, almost curious. "You're one of them."
She nodded slowly. "I was. But I bargained. One can return. The other must stay."
Luke's blood ran cold. "Wait… that's the trade? That's what the voice meant?"
She looked at him. "Yes. You're already being chosen."
Her gaze slid to Arthur.
And for the first time, just for a second—
Arthur hesitated.