After scanning through the hall of mirrors with focused eyes and a patient heart, Max finally stopped before one that stirred something deep within him. The mirror was framed by intricate arcs of silver and cobalt, and the surface rippled faintly like water struck by unseen thunder.
Tiny sparks danced along the edges of the frame, crackling softly, humming in rhythm with the lightning running through his veins.
As he stepped closer, the mirror pulsed with energy that resonated with his lightning concept, matching the thrum of his own aura with uncanny precision.
Without hesitation, Max reached out and touched the glass.
The moment his fingertips brushed the surface, the mirror shimmered and rippled as if it were no longer solid—then it melted away, revealing a glowing path that extended into the space beyond. He stepped through, the world shifting around him like folding paper.
