Although my thoughts toward my Alter Ego hadn’t exactly been friendly these past few days, I had to swallow every single one of them when Laura stopped in front of a new metal door. That was when I realized just how distracted I’d been: I had no idea where we were, nor could I even measure the distance we’d walked since the last containment cell.
It was as if I’d been moving on autopilot, my mind caught in daydreams, until I was forced to confront that cold steel barrier standing before us. Of course, by then, the usual scene was either guards frozen at their posts, sweating as they watched us pass, or scientists who, even while trying to hide it, couldn’t stop their glances from betraying all sorts of reactions.
The expression on all their faces was the same—pure confusion, as if none of them knew what to expect. And honestly, I couldn’t blame them. I understood perfectly the reason behind every lost look, every furrowed brow, and the heavy silence hanging in the air.
Including me, there were four anomalies walking through those halls as if we were just out for a casual stroll. Even so, I was sure everyone around us was fully aware of what we were capable of—both me and my sisters. Few would dare forget that.
Seconds later, the heavy door creaked open, and we crossed the threshold in silence. On the other side, there were no corridors, no machines, no guards—only a bare, sterile square room, lit by a cold glow that didn’t seem to come from anywhere at all. In the center of that emptiness, solitary and almost out of place, stood a single mirror. Its polished surface reflected not just our forms, but something else, something that seemed to stir beyond them.
My eyes swept across the room for a moment, as if searching for hidden clues in the smooth, silent walls. At first, it wasn’t hard to see what was wrong. In a square room, empty and sterile, the single out-of-place object stood out almost aggressively: a lone mirror at the center, as glaring as a splash of red ink in a crystal-clear pool. Its surface seemed to pulse with its own presence, impossible to ignore.
For a moment, my gaze locked on the full-length mirror in front of us. It didn’t just reflect my image—it carried a silent weight, as if it held something far beyond a mere reflection.
I stared at the reflection with greater focus, waiting for any reaction, but to my surprise, the mirror remained completely still. No shimmer, no warped distortion—just a hollow silence.
Simply put, the mirror really didn’t have any obvious weakness, just as Laura had mentioned before. And yet, one thing caught my attention: a faint line, almost imperceptible, flowing from the frame downward into the shadows of the floor.
I couldn’t tell exactly where it led, but it was enough to reveal an unsettling truth—the mirror itself was only a façade. The true body of the anomaly was hidden somewhere beyond that point.
As I studied the mirror anomaly, Eryanis was the first to move. Her bare feet, wrapped only in thin white cloth, slid across the floor with an almost ritualistic grace. She advanced slowly toward the distorted surface, as if guided by something only she could feel.
In the end, I let my eyes return to normal, snuffing out the strange glow, and stood silent, watching her closely, anxious to see what would happen next.
Moments later, Eryanis stepped closer to the mirror. But beyond her reflection cast back at her from the polished surface, nothing happened. The image stayed still and silent, like an untouched lake of glass. Outwardly, she kept her cold, indifferent expression, but inside, I felt adrift.
Confusion gnawed at me as I tried to understand: technically, the anomaly this time seemed to be tied to an object—not to a creature or a living phenomenon. If that was the case, then it was up to us to figure out exactly what needed to be done to trigger it.
Even while I wrestled with that thought, Eryanis remained completely indifferent, her proud, unshaken face fixed on the mirror. That was when, in a barely noticeable moment, something drew my attention.
The Eryanis in front of me wore the same lofty, impassive look, not even hinting at a smile. Yet, her reflection in the mirror told a different story: there, her image bore a subtle smirk, dripping with arrogance, as if mocking the two of us.
As I stared at the scene, I realized there could only be one reason for all this strangeness: the mirror. But what I saw there wasn’t truly a reflection. Something was wrong—something that broke the natural rules. As that conclusion settled in my mind, I noticed the lips of Eryanis’s reflection move independently, as if the image had a life of its own.
The next instant, a voice echoed—clear, unmistakable, filling the room with an icy resonance. It sounded exactly like Eryanis, each syllable laced with uncanny familiarity: “Tell me... what is it you desire? Power? Wealth? I can grant you anything”
For a moment, her reflection’s words left me stunned. It was hard to believe she would ever care about something so trivial. The very thought seemed out of place with the essence she always carried. My mind strained to picture Eryanis longing for anything as... mundane as what the mirror offered—and failed miserably.
She seemed just as disturbed. Her delicate brow arched in disdain, and when she spoke, her voice cut through the air with sharp finality: “I have no need for any of that. Such things are utterly useless to me”
At her words, the mirror didn’t just smile—it let out a slow, sarcastic laugh, dragging and provocative, reverberating through the space as though it came from every corner at once.
The sound mimicked Eryanis’s voice, yet something about it was off—a subtle, almost imperceptible distortion, as if the very essence of her voice had been twisted into something darker and artificial.
That discrepancy pierced through me like an omen, an intrusive thought that struck the moment the being answered her words: “Fufufu... yes, that’s true. You, Eryanis, would never need any of those things”
In the next instant, something uncanny happened: a blinding white light erupted from the mirror, so intense it seemed to swallow the entire space around them. When the glare finally subsided, Eryanis realized she was no longer facing a single mirror but surrounded by dozens of them, forming a circle that enclosed her. The air vibrated with a strange energy, as if the reflections themselves were breathing.
Above her, four mirrors floated in the void, reflecting her image with flawless clarity—but something about them was profoundly wrong. The reflections stared directly at her, their gazes piercing, and on each face the same mocking smile appeared—a smile that wasn’t hers, yet one that seemed to know all her darkest secrets.
The mirror above Eryanis was the first to speak, its surface trembling as though something alive lurked behind the glass: “Eryanis and order...” it declared with lofty arrogance, followed by a sarcastic laugh that seemed to scrape at the air.
Right behind her, another mirror replied, its voice echoing like a whisper multiplied a hundredfold through endless reflections: “All bends before Eryanis...”
Then, the mirror in front of her let out a dry, almost jeering laugh before spitting out its words like venom: “Eryanis has everything she desires... except approval.” The weight of their voices filled the chamber, as if the very walls were breathing alongside the mirrors.
At that moment, my eyes turned to Eryanis. She listened to every word spilling from the mirrors with an unsettling intensity. Her face was cloaked in a dark expression, as though a shadow had draped itself across her features.
It wasn’t anger—at least, not in the ordinary sense. In truth, it was nearly impossible to decipher what she was feeling. There was something enigmatic in her gaze, a mixture of disdain and restrained coldness, as if she carried a secret no one would ever dare to comprehend.
Then her voice shattered the silence, resonating with a firmness that seemed to vibrate through the chamber. Low, yet brimming with authority and pride, each syllable carried an unshakable confidence: “Are you mocking me?”
The reflections of Eryanis in the mirrors seemed to have been waiting for those very words. A single, unified smile spread across them all, as if sharing the same secret. Their voices echoed, playful and taunting, weaving together until they became a distorted chorus.
Soon, a tide of laughter roared through the room, reverberating across the walls and the glass itself. At the center of it all, Eryanis stood motionless, her gaze dark and heavy, the only one untouched by that grotesque celebration.
“Mocking?” murmured the mirror to her left, its voice laced with cold indifference, stripped of all emotion.
“No, we would never mock you” added the mirror to her right, this time with a teasing, almost playful tone, as if delighting in probing her reactions.
“We are you” they continued in unison, their surfaces rippling faintly like water on the verge of spilling over: “We know what you desire, we know every hidden longing within you. We can grant your greatest wish... so tell us, Eryanis—will you accept?”
Deep down, I knew this was a trial Eryanis had to face on her own. But the longer I watched, the more fury boiled inside me.
Why the hell was that wretched mirror provoking my Eryanis? What right did it have to treat her as though she were lesser, as though it dared place itself above her? Before I could even make sense of where those thoughts—or the burning weight of those feelings—came from, my body was already moving on its own.
One step, then another, each heavier than the last, as though something unseen was pulling me forward. I walked slowly toward Eryanis, threading my way through the maze of warped reflections.
Dozens of versions of her eyes followed me from the glassy surfaces—some filled with doubt, others with sorrow, others still utterly blank, as if testing my resolve.
The feeling was suffocating, as though I were being judged by countless versions of her. And then, before I even realized it, I was standing right in front of her. My breath came slow and heavy, my heartbeat pounding like a war drum against the oppressive silence of the mirror hall.
And then, my raw thoughts spilled against the mirror without filter or hesitation: (You pathetic excuse for a mirror—who the hell do you think you are, daring to mess with my beautiful Eryanis?)
My face, usually indifferent, twisted into something darker. My jaw tightened, and the icy detachment in my features was consumed by a silent rage.
My golden eyes, once merely glowing, now burned like living embers, scorching the reflection before me: (Make her shed a single tear... and I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your existence)
Honestly, my emotions were a tangled mess. Not even in my human memories, nor after becoming an anomaly, had I ever felt something so overpowering. This was the first time I had ever experienced such consuming fury.
Seeing Eryanis mocked, laid bare as if she were nothing more than an open book... it tore at me from the inside out. The rage was so overwhelming I could barely piece together a coherent thought—everything blurred into a red haze in my mind.
The only idea that remained, sharp and screaming, was to seize the true body of that damned mirror and make it understand—in the most painful way possible—what happens when someone dares to lay a hand on my family.