Shukan was still catching his breath.
Fingers twitching.
Eyes darting around between the sky and the dirt like he was waiting for the world to do something weird again.
It didn't.
It just stood there.
Still.
But that's what made it worse.
Chronos hadn't moved since they got out of that creature's grasp.
He just stared at the slit in the sky, the faint shimmer of that golden line still pulsing like a heartbeat from a thing that didn't have a body.
"It's still open," Shukan said, quieter than usual.
Chronos blinked once. Uncertain.
"Yeah. Not fully. But almost."
Shukan rubbed his forehead. "So, what now? Another scroll? Guilt part two? You gonna cry this time?"
Chronos didn't answer. That wasn't normal.
"Hey. You good?" Still no response.
Chronos just crouched and pressed his palm to the ground.
And for a moment—everything around them clicked
Like time hiccupped.
Shukan staggered.
His vision tripled, then stitched back together.
He looked down and saw his own print of his boot in the ground —before he stepped there.
"…The hell did you just do?"
Chronos stood up slowly. The obsidian plates across his back started glowing again, brighter and sharper now.
"This place isn't the fracture anymore."
Shukan blinked, dumbfounded. He looked around. "…What? So, then what is it?"
Chronos tilted his head like he was listening to something Shukan couldn't comprehend or hear.
"It's a mimic field. A pocket simulation built off the original fracture… think of it like a temporal reflection."
"In English?"
"It's not real."
"…Oh good. Cool. Love that."
The glyphs were gone.
The dirt wasn't dirt anymore.
And the air? It didn't feel organic or breathable. It felt staged.
Like they were inside a very polite and welcoming lie.
Shukan glanced over his shoulder. "So you're saying we never left the test?"
Chronos sighed, finally looking at him. "No. We passed the scroll trial. But it never intended to let us go."
Shukans eye twitched. "I'm about to punch a sky."
Meanwhile, outside the field—
Yurei took a step back. Not because of fear, not yet.
But because the frost blooming on her arm was starting to move on its own.
The air around her got colder—not icy-cold. Not sharp and clean like it usually was.
It was a wrong type of cold.
Like someone else was breathing through her lungs.
"You feel that?" She asked, eyes locked forward.
Aetherons wings dimmed. "Yeah," he said. "But its not from inside anymore."
They both looked at the fracture. It hadn't pulsed in minutes.
Weird.
But the slit? The vertical tear in the sky?
It just blinked.
And something inside that blink…looked back.
Back in the false field, Chronos stood motionless.
He'd been doing calculations in his head so fast the glow around his gauntlets was starting to vibrate.
Shukan paced behind him, arms crossed.
"Alright, look. I'm not saying we don't smash our way out of here.
I'm just saying we've tried standing still for a hot minute and I'm losing braincells."
Chronos didn't argue.
He just raised both hands, palms open, and muttered under his breath.
Shukan recognized the tone.
Not a chant. Not a command.
A rewrite.
But it sounded different.
Slower. Less structured.
Like he was about to break his own rules.
"Wait," Shukan said, stepping closer. "You're not doing what I think you're doing, right?"
"I'm giving us a window."
"And what if the window doesn't like being opened?"
"Then we get cut."
A burst of golden light sparked between Chronos' hands.
The air peeled.
Not exploded.
Not cracked.
Just... peeled.
Like a sticker coming off the face of time.
Through the tear, Shukan saw a flicker—
just a flash—
of Yurei.
And her frost-arm?
It wasn't attached to her anymore.
It was standing across from her.
Solid.
Shaped like her.
Frozen lips pulled into a half-smile.
"Chronos—what the fuck is that?"
"I don't know. But we need to go. Now."
The tear widened.
And then the world shook.
Not physically.
But the fake timeline collapsed.
Everything started glitching.
Trees jittered in and out.
Ground faded.
Gravity skipped.
Shukan lunged through the tear without waiting.
Chronos followed.
And they both—
Dropped.
They landed rough.
Not dramatic.
Not anime-hero perfect.
Just hard.
Shukan hit the dirt first, rolled, and coughed out something halfway between a curse and a laugh.
"Okay. That sucked."
Chronos hit next, one knee down, hands braced. Sparks danced across his armor—his right shoulder glowing where the fracture wound still pulsed.
Aetheron turned toward them, relieved—until he saw their faces.
"You made it."
Shukan spat into the dirt.
"Barely."
"What'd you see in there?"
Shukan looked up.
And then his face changed.
Eyes narrowed.
Shoulders tense.
He wasn't looking at Aetheron.
He was looking past him.
"Yo... what is that?"
Yurei stood still.
Her breath frost-fogged in front of her.
And across from her stood...
Her.
Same posture.
Same robe.
Same look.
But the arm?
It was full-frost.
Her whole body now reflected the energy she usually kept locked in just one limb.
And the face?
Smiling.
But the smile was... too polite.
"Yurei," Aetheron said, stepping forward, "don't move."
"I'm not," she muttered.
"That's not you."
"I know."
Yurei's arm twitched.
Not hers. The other one's.
And then it stepped forward.
Mirrored-Yurei tilted her head, almost like it was curious.
The sky blinked again.
The glyph field pulsed.
And suddenly, all the frost in Yurei's real arm spiked outward.
"Back up!" Shukan shouted.
Too late.
Frost flew from both versions of her—real and reflected—at the same time.
Aetheron threw up a radiant barrier, catching most of it.
But a shard still sliced through the ground behind them.
Chronos didn't speak.
He was already moving.
He wasn't looking at Mirror-Yurei.
He was looking around her.
Watching the space she was standing in.
"That's not a reflection," he said.
"That's a tether."
"To what?" Shukan asked.
Chronos' eyes narrowed.
"Something further in. Something on the other side of the door."
"So that's just... what? A hand puppet?"
"No," Chronos said.
"That's an anchor."
Mirror-Yurei stepped forward again.
And this time, the ground beneath her feet froze into glyphs.
Golden at first.
Then turning to frost.
Then vanishing like they were never there.
She opened her mouth.
But no sound came out.
Just fog.
Like a memory exhaling.
"It's talking," Yurei whispered. "But it's using my voice in my own head."
Shukan stepped beside her.
"Want me to shut her up?"
Yurei didn't smile. Didn't even blink.
"Try it and I'll stab you first."
"See? That's how I know you're the real one."
The two Yureis locked eyes.
Frost formed between them in midair—spirals, delicate and sharp.
And the Mirror finally said something out loud.
Not a voice.
Not a language.
Just one word, spoken in the sound of cracking ice:
"Return."
Everyone flinched.
Even Chronos.
Because the sky responded.
The slit widened.
Not much.
Just enough to let something else step closer.
The Entity?
Not yet.
But something smaller.
A shape.
Crawling on all fours.
Head twitching side to side like it didn't know where it belonged.
Chronos backed up.
"That's not from here."
Aetheron flared his wings. His light dimmed.
"We've gotta go."
But Yurei?
She didn't move.
She was staring at her copy.
Not in fear.
Not in anger.
Just focus.
"It's wearing me like a disguise," she said softly.
"And I think it wants to keep the skin."