Chapter 25: The Mirror's Whisper
Night fell like ink, thick and slow, swallowing the stars one by one. The fire crackled weakly against the silence, casting tall, flickering shadows across the ruined stones where the group had camped. No birds, no insects—just wind and the uneasy sound of their breathing.
Wale hadn't spoken since they left the garden. Not truly. He gave directions, short responses, nods. But Chris saw the change. Something had entered him back in that clearing, something more than truth. Something colder.
Grey noticed too. "You're quieter than usual," he said, sharpening his blade.
Wale didn't look up. "There's a voice. It's... starting again."
Chris froze. "The mirror?"
Wale nodded.
Grey's grip tightened. "It's speaking to you?"
"No," Wale said. "It's listening."
They continued their journey north—toward the Rift of Echoes, a place where reality shimmered and bent, where thoughts were said to bleed through the veil between dimensions. It was the last known location of the Mirror—the ancient artifact that had split Wale's fate long ago.
Wale had shattered it himself to stop what it showed him. But fragments remained. Enough to reflect pieces of his soul—enough to become something more.
"It's watching me from the cracks," Wale murmured as they passed a dead forest, the trees charred and twisted. "It waits in silence... in surfaces... in me."
Chris walked closer, her brow furrowed with concern. "We can face it. Together."
Wale's eyes gleamed in the fading light. "You don't face a mirror. You face yourself."
By dusk, they reached the Rift—a jagged canyon slicing through the land like a wound in the world. Wind screamed through it, echoing the fears of those who stood near. The ground shimmered with residual energy, and time itself seemed to lag.
They camped at its edge. None of them slept.
That night, Wale dreamt of mirrors.
He walked halls of silver and glass, where his reflection followed him—first a second too late, then a second too early, then altogether different.
It whispered, its voice soft, intimate, wrong.
"They don't know who you are. But I do. I was you before you wore the mask."
"Let me in."
Wale turned to run—but the hall curved endlessly. There was no exit.
Only a mirror that showed him smiling.
While he stood still.
He awoke drenched in sweat.
Chris was beside him in a moment. "Bad dream?"
He nodded slowly. "It's close."
Grey was already up, pacing the ridge. "I can feel it. The whole canyon's humming. Like something buried is trying to scream."
Wale stood. "It is. There's a shard still down there. A piece of the original Mirror."
Chris's eyes widened. "We're going down there?"
Wale nodded. "We have to. That shard is where the monster began."
They descended into the Rift.
The deeper they went, the more distorted the world became. Gravity shifted in pulses. Stones floated, reversed, fell sideways. And the walls were covered in mirrored veins—fragments of the Mirror's essence, glimmering softly in the dim.
Chris touched one. A younger version of herself blinked back, terrified.
Grey scowled. "This whole place is a wound."
"No," Wale corrected. "It's a birth canal."
He led them to the center of the Rift—a pit surrounded by glass monoliths, pulsing with memory. In the middle, encased in a twisting cage of roots and metal, was the shard.
It hovered. Waiting.
And it spoke.
"Wale. My shadow. My echo."
"Did you think sealing me here was victory?"
"I have seen every version of you. Every lie. Every fall."
"I am the truth you won't face."
The shard gleamed—and from its surface stepped him.
The reflection.
Same face. Same voice.
But eyes darker. Smiling wider.
The Monster in the Mirror had come.
Grey drew his sword. Chris raised her shield. But Wale stepped forward.
"I knew this would happen."
The reflection smirked. "You always do. It's your curse."
Chris shouted, "What are you?!"
The monster turned to her slowly. "I'm not what he fears. I'm what he wants. The power without guilt. The logic without mercy. The victory without restraint."
Wale clenched his fists. "You're not me."
"I was," the monster said. "Until you broke me."
Then it attacked.
The Rift shook as the reflection surged forward—moving like water, like shadow. Grey intercepted with a flurry of strikes, but the blade passed through illusion. Chris swung, her blade colliding with another form—only for it to vanish.
Then the real blow came—from behind.
Wale was thrown across the chamber, blood in his mouth.
The monster stood over him.
"You buried your guilt. You confessed your sins. But you still kept me."
Wale coughed. "Because I knew you'd never leave."
The mirror monster tilted its head. "Then why try to destroy me?"
Wale's eyes flared.
"Because I have something you don't."
He rose, the Memory Blade in hand.
"I have them."
Grey struck from the left, Chris from the right. Wale moved through the center, and for the first time, the monster staggered.
Its face twisted. "They are not enough!"
But cracks formed on its mirrored skin.
Chris drove her blade into its side. Grey cut across its shoulder.
Wale stabbed through its chest—and twisted.
The monster screamed—splintering into shards of memory and glass.
It collapsed.
For a moment, silence.
Then the mirror shard—still hovering—glowed one last time.
"I am not your enemy, Wale."
"You are."
And it shattered.
The Rift stopped pulsing.
Reality... settled.
Wale knelt, breathing hard.
Chris approached slowly. "Is it over?"
Grey stared at the broken glass. "It's never over."
Wale nodded. "He's right. That was a piece. But the real mirror... the first mirror... still lies deeper."
Chris's heart sank. "Then why did we come here?"
"To remember the face of the enemy," Wale said, rising. "So we don't forget him again."
Above them, stars flickered to life.
But in the broken shard...
One eye still watched.
And smiled.