"The Jade Scythe of the Architect Afterword" - Part IV-
Chapter 35
Li remained quiet and kept his gaze fixed forward.
Juno caught her breath before gesturing silently toward the corridor ahead.
It narrowed into a deep fissure, and deliberate strokes marked the walls, distinct from the chaotic marks left by creatures before.
They proceeded with measured haste.
The previous corridors were vast and jagged, structured in a way that prohibited a single route.
At present, however, the path was straight, offering no branches.
The simplicity kept Li and Juno on an unspoken edge.
The corridor's walls gradually narrowed, and the stone surfaces smoothed into parallel strokes.
Despite occasional chips and notches, the patterns resembled faded glyphs, akin to a forgotten stonecutter's language.
The floor also bore long, shallow etchings.
Contrary to expectations, the narrowing path did not culminate in a dead end.
"Such a straightforward route," Juno remarked, standing before the fourth corridor. "It almost seems like the trial's keeper already abandoned post."
The entrance resembled a threshold more than a passage.
Beyond, the space curved inward sharply, and the ceiling arched low.
Unlike previous corridors shaped by collapse, this one was deliberately constructed, forming a long, narrow tunnel.
A subtle shimmer emanated from within, as slender lines of reflected light stretched from the far side, tracing impossible angles like strands of silk.
Some hovered at the periphery of vision; others curved unpredictably.
After surveying the exterior cautiously, Li responded, "Unlikely. Even if we can't confront the being directly, a trial keeper who surrenders faces dire consequences once 'participants' depart."
Juno diverted her gaze from the corridor and made a once-over of Li.
"We should proceed and conclude this swiftly, then."
As they progressed, tension returned to their limbs.
Juno's gaze sharpened. "Do you see that?"
Li followed the glinting arcs and kept his voice low. "Those shimmers aren't simply light. It looks like they're being redirected."
The arch narrowed further. Each step made the passage feel more confined, intentionally so.
As the exit neared, seams in the floor creaked.
They stepped back and fervently searched for the source.
Suddenly, a series of soft clicks echoed outward, like bone hinges releasing tension.
From further ahead, an enormous door rose from the ground.
Li and Juno exchanged a single glance before they continued toward the tunnel's end.
The familiar moss-covered walls and humid alcoves were gone.
In their place stretched a vast expanse devoid of ceilings or walls, only immense slabs of polished stone suspended irregularly across a vast space that stretched upward without a visible ceiling.
They ascended along the wall edges like crooked steps.
Upon looking at the center, there was a seemingly endless chandelier of mirrors that dominated the space.
They hung not from walls, but from iron chains that vanished far up into nothing.
There were even shattered fragments littered over the platforms.
Juno slowed, rubbing her index on the smooth gourd of her elixir. "This doesn't resemble a maze."
"It isn't," Li replied, examining the terrain. "There don't seem to be any turns here either, only a path that falls upward."
"...But, there might still be traps," Li added after a moment.
Juno gave a slight nod, her expression now mirroring his.
Juno's gaze ascended, drawn to the array of tarnished mirrors overhead.
In one, a fleeting distortion caught her eye; a pallid shadow gliding silently across successive reflections, vanishing into a jagged crevice between two large, cornered stones.
Not a single sound accompanied the motion.
"I think I saw something in the mirror just now," Juno murmured, steadily as she kept her attention trained.
Li rested the tip of his sword upon his shoulder, his gaze following the direction of Juno's focus.
"Perhaps a guess," she murmured, "considering our memories can only retain so much after a sequence restarts. These mirrors... White Rice seems like a type of spirit, rather than a monster. More akin to an architectural instinct made animate."
Within the Sequel, foxes could signify many things, but as a type of spirit, it would have to belong under a specific species that mimicked flesh beyond its own form.
The spirits here weren't born from death or memory, as they were in the Original Universe.
They were inhuman designs, labeled as spirits due to their similarities.
In the Sequel, "spirits" gained autonomy at the cost of permanence.
If White Rice had ever been a man, he could never be one again. His form was sealed and trapped within the vessel, likely as a form of punishment, had he been among those apprehended by the Abundant Creator.
After a spell of silence, Juno caught another distortion moving across the distance.
The fox was swift, yet not overtly aggressive.
If anything, it bore a calculating nature, which was an unsettling trait.
Anything not human, yet capable of such deliberation, invariably studied every inch before acting, rendering it undeniably more threatening.
They both knew by now that he would not strike first; his intent was clearly to lure.
Li caught another glimpse of the fox's form in a much closer reflection. This time, the image was distinct.
From afar, it appeared lean, arched like a gazelle, yet its movements were unnaturally smooth. Its joints rotated in ways that defied natural anatomy.
Juno spoke slowly, "I don't think he's here to kill us. He just wants to outlast us."
Li shook his head, thinking silently, 'White Rice doesn't desire outcomes. He aims to win without expending anything.'
As they ventured in the direction of the platforms, a low click emanated from the giant door's hinge.
Suddenly, the door swung open with a resounding bang, scattering shards of grass in the opposite direction.
They both stumbled back, and Li's foot fell onto a mirror shard etched with a barely visible rune beneath layers of dust and scratches.
Not feeling the expected crunch, he looked down suspiciously.
The moment his weight settled on it, the ground nearby convulsed.
"Move!" Juno shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him back just as a stone column erupted upward like a brutal piston.
The trap would have crushed his hip had he remained in place.
A fleeting grimace betrayed his composure. However, he swiftly steadied his posture before Juno could notice he was visibly taken aback.
Then, with certainty, he said, "That wasn't there before. I would have noticed a shard differing from the rest."
Juno's eyes darted to the mirrors. "That's because it wasn't. He's setting them through the mirrors."
This implied that the reflections were no longer mere observation points. They had become control hubs.
Juno strode ahead and stepped onto the lowest platform, crouching by its edge.
She had sensed a peculiar glint from the corner of her eye a second after the column retracted back into the ground.
There was an unusual shard, half-buried in the corner.
It looked dull, but bled a slightly warmer hue.
Tilting her head, she leaned closer to inspect it. Upon doing so, she realized that the reflection wasn't her own.
In the shard, she stood elsewhere, on another platform. The terrain was identical, but she was alone.
Juno gasped before swiftly stepping backwards.
"These shards… they're projecting illusions," she said with a cold tone. "Li, approach one of the mirrors. I need to confirm something."
Li frowned with puzzlement before exhaling softly and moving toward an off-center mirror.
The nearest fragments displayed his reflection as expected. Yet, as Juno observed the surrounding pieces, she noted an anomaly.
Amidst the mirrors that should have captured his image, one stood void.
Her brow furrowed.
"Some of these mirrors are false," she stated. "Look behind you."
Li turned around, and his gaze was immediately drawn to a mirror directly ahead that was conspicuously vacant.
The presence of both genuine and deceptive mirrors complicated matters.
In a space saturated with reflections, discerning reality from illusion would become a formidable challenge.
The mind could easily falter upon being ensnared by the deceptive images.
Navigating this maze demanded unwavering focus, but in this setting, even the most vigilant could be intercepted before reaching the end.
"I see... perhaps if we break the uncertain ones—" Li began.
"I'll handle it," Juno interrupted. "You need to pass through that trapdoor before it seals."
Li pivoted toward her with an unreadable expression.
For the Soterice trials, fairness was paramount. That was the unyielding law of every construct.
If White Rice, the keeper of the trial, refused to engage directly, unwilling to tire, to bleed, or to stake anything, then the trial itself must offer a concession. A means to balance the scales.
"That door that was opened…" Juno pointed toward the vast rectangular gap, framed by a low step and flanked by dust-laden rows of stairs on either side.
Li turned his head, following her gesture. Recognition dawned as his lips parted. "The bypass route."
"One of us can head in," she affirmed. "But just because it's a free path doesn't mean it's easy."
Li exhaled. "Have we ever used it? We should just reach the end and proceed from there. There's no point in risking one of us being left behind because we lacked someone to ensure it wouldn't happen."
Juno sighed and said curtly, "No. If the trial remains incomplete, we're trapped. Someone must confront the end."
Li swallowed visibly. "I can still provide surveillance support—"
She sighed, tapping her closed fan against the tip of her nose. "Not now, your sword's nearly bare. You'll only hinder me if he changes tactics again and throws another hurdle our way."
Her tone held no accusation, only fact.
Li sighed more audibly, casting a glance at his sword, which now resembled a mere scrap of metal at his side. "A bit blunt, don't you think?"
Juno remained silent to maintain a resolute demeanor.
After a pause, he stepped closer and reluctantly voiced. "Don't die."
"I won't," she replied, as a subtle smile softened her expression.
Suddenly, a loud sound was emitted beside them.
Juno straightened, her intensity returning as her gaze fixed on the elusive mirror where Li's reflection had been absent.
She didn't need to see it to know it had overheard their conversation.
"…Go on. I'll have your back from above ground." Li offered no further argument and retreated before staring down into the trapdoor of the fourth corridor.
He hesitated for barely a heartbeat before his foot pressed onto the first step, initiating his descent.
Juno moved the moment the trapdoor sealed behind Li.
Her steps were unwavering, despite the ascending platforms' unstable perimeters.
As she ascended, the intervals between platforms subtly widened: half a pace here, a full body's length there.
A structure designed to erode her stamina incrementally, so subtly that she might not realize until her knees faltered mid-leap.
The structure was calibrating her limits.
How far could she proceed before her precision faltered? How long could she persist before the ever-widening gaps consumed all hope of progressing?
Each leap onto the increasingly distant platforms sent disorienting tides through the air.
When her gaze met certain mirrors, a vertiginous sensation threatened her balance.
Some of them began to mock her reflection, depicting stumbles, backward falls. In one, she slipped two levels.
She simply gritted her teeth and pressed forward.
After she had landed on the next stone slab, it groaned faintly beneath her weight.
Then, a soft clink echoed behind her. She swiftly turned to acknowledge the source.
The mirror nearest the platform she'd just left now bore a jagged smear across its surface, as if claws had raked through its reflection.
Crouching, she placed her palm against the stone. "Alright, White Rice."
"Let's discuss architecture," she murmured, her tone laced with sardonic amusement. "I know you can do better than making me believe I'll fall."
A faint hiss escaped the platform beneath her.
In that instant, the illusion of a claw mark across the mirror dissipated, as if fog had been wiped from its surface.
The image within melted away, leaving the frame empty.
Then, all the mirrors, even those that had appeared 'normal', shifted to reflect scenes not present before her.
She couldn't avert her gaze. The motion within them drew her attention, fading into nonsensical and ethereal enigmas, though she felt no change beneath her feet.
A vast atrium unfurled before her, completely deserting any pattern: ceilings wept upward, staircases dissolved into voids, and arches existed solely to cradle shadows.
Once she pulled her gaze, she peered down. Her platform bore remnants of old ink, like a prayer diagram etched beneath layers of dust and lichen.
It almost seemed to mimic a shrine courtyard, perhaps dedicated to a minor deity or a sacrificial dialect of the original Soterice.
Her eyes scanned the ground frantically as she held her breath.
A mirror beside her shimmered, and abruptly, she observed herself from above.
The perspective was constrained, darting from one mirror to another, only settling upon her when she halted.
It conserved attention as it did movement. Yet, something was amiss.
Juno scrutinized the reflection. In the upper left quadrant, an anomaly presented itself: a wall neither suspended nor fractured, unlike the rest of the space. It stood as the sole intact structure within the expanse.
It bore the sigil she and Li had crafted before entering the third corridor, still partially obscured by ash.
An inexplicable pull tugged at Juno, compelling her toward a particular mirror. It stood apart, its surface unnervingly still, as if awaiting her approach.
'How should I go about it?' she pondered, her thoughts tinged with regret. 'This place has transformed into an obstacle course. I shouldn't have spoken so hastily.'
Her gaze settled on a sequence of unsteady, crumpled stones, forming an almost perfect path toward her target.
Alas, the peril didn't lie in the leaps themselves, but in the visual allure of myriad alternate reflections that would clamor for her attention as she advanced.
'The first trap Li encountered and the one I witnessed in this space differ now. White Rice must have intended them to appear as the traps we were meant to seek. To divert us from the most evident snare that was right in front of us.'
Juno's foot betrayed her, twisting upon a treacherous stone. A sharp discomfort surged through her ankle, prompting a grimace.
'It was a useless tactic,' she lamented inwardly. 'Even with awareness, there was nothing I could have done.'
The traps extended beyond the physical; they were cognitive as well.
Juno landed heavily upon the platform nearest the mirror, her momentum causing her to stumble forward. She quickly rose to her feet.
Now, standing as close as she could to the mirror, she was compelled to decipher the instinct that had drawn her to it.
'Mm… I can't remember how to invoke the divinations by word, but fortunately, we've employed this sigil so frequently that I remember all necessary to articulate it aloud.'
She pondered, 'If I just need to reiterate anomalies that the fox leaves in these random mazes, maybe that means the final stage… is akin to a puzzle!' A slight sense of relief washed over her as she realized she had always excelled at puzzles.
Even if the space was designed to mislead her, by focusing on identifying discrepancies to prevent them, she would merely be exercising her skill.
She cleared her throat before beginning slowly in a slightly firmer voice, "I am not a beast of burden," "I am not prey. For I hold the pride of a thistle, striving amidst a field of divide."
A biting draft swept across the far end of the platform,
Then, a mirror high above quivered, before detaching from its moorings, and like a twenty-meter slab of obsidian, it descended.
Juno sprang aside, narrowly evading the arc of its fall. Another pane broke loose above, angled deliberately to alter her course.
She twisted midair, bracing against a vertical shard lodged between slabs, and propelled herself onto the next platform.
The landing was harsh, jarring her bones.
Another draft swept from behind, so cold it seared her skin.
She turned cautiously, and her eyes widened dramatically at the sight that had materialized almost from nowhere.
The fox had manifested fully at last.
It moved like fog, translucent as steam rising from cracked porcelain. From a distance, White Rice resembled an equine figure, elegant and slender-limbed, but closer inspection revealed unsettling anomalies.
Veins of soft mauve and corroded rust coursed beneath skin resembling layered gossamer, akin to silk steeped in lavender.
Its horns, dark and lacquered like scorched wood, curved forward with ornamental grace, sweeping back like a gazelle's. Where a mane should have been, mist coiled in slow, recursive loops.
The trailing fog twisted into half-formed glyphs that vanished upon recognition.
Its eyes were slits filled with vibrating mica, that reflected no light.
Wherever its hooves landed, the floor contorted, as if recoiling from an unspeakable presence.
It neither lunged nor emitted a growl.
They stood, ensnared within each other's aura, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension.
Heartbeats passed in stillness.
Then, the fox withdrew, stepping back across the platform it had claimed.
Lowering onto its front right leg in a peculiar posture, Juno instinctively snapped her fan halfway open.
Conversely, White Rice remained motionless, as if conveying a silent message. His head dipped in the same fluid motion before he closed his eyes.
Juno's lips parted in astonishment. Was he bowing?
This fox, known for its pride in crafting impossible architectures, was not one to yield easily.
The maze had seemed a mere prelude, a display of its true capabilities.
Now, as it held this position, Juno contemplated the gesture's significance.
Perhaps White Rice recognized a worthy adversary in her, acknowledging her progression to the final stage.
The ground beneath her felt unstable, as if ready to betray her footing.
Her thoughts buzzed, the fox's influence enveloping her like an invisible vice.
She leapt across the gaps of a ladder-like structure toward the mirror reflecting the sigil she and Li had drawn.
The glass was unnaturally smooth.
Her fingers glided over its cold, flawless surface, a faint hum resonating against her skin, akin to a tuning fork plucked in silence.
The "real" mirrors, those tethered to tangible mechanisms, were the only ones that fell while the illusory projections remained inert.
Perhaps there existed a possibility to override this system that she had yet to fully comprehend.
The fragments White Rice had embedded were of the same mirror, each triggering a physical trap.
If a mirror could activate another trap, she might be able to discern whether she stood within an illusion or amidst altered architecture.
Since recognizing and calling out anomalies seemed to affect the environment, perhaps triggering another trap outside the potential 'illusion' would yield results.
Though uncertain of her ability to perceive it, this method was the only viable option until another presented itself.
Abruptly, she dug her nails into the edge of the glass. Unexpectedly, instead of merely applying pressure, her fingers penetrated the polished surface. She jolted as resistance met her touch.
A thin thread of suspicion wove through her mind.
She swiftly retracted her hand and stepped back cautiously, nearly stumbling through the gaps before regaining balance. Nothing occurred, and she frowned in contempt.
Yet, surprisingly, White Rice appeared threatened by the gesture. It shifted on its hooves, its body swaying into new shapes, like a flame reshaping itself.
She stepped back, a reaction the fox had seemingly anticipated. Somehow, it managed to disorient her with the shift, backing her into a special shard of glass.
The floor beneath her buckled, and a section folded back like a rolling wave, revealing a pit of twisting thorns and blackened stone.
The thorns writhed like serpents, rising with sharp, hungry tips.
Fortunately, her fan remained half-unfurled. As her feet slipped from solid ground, she whipped the fan over her body, conjuring a glowing white vine that latched onto a bare chain from which one of the mirrors had fallen.
Dangling above, she realized White Rice could still manipulate the environment. A sharp clop of its hoof sent a piercing ring through the air.
She looked up, then down into the pit, as the sound of wood cracking and grinding reached her ears.
The thorns were moving on their own, extending like ancient tentacles with creaking joints.
As they reached for her, she grunted and reached out to grasp her fan with her other hand.
She squeezed her index finger between the guards to prevent it from closing and releasing the vine.
The pressure threatened to snap her fingertip, but she held steady, using all her strength to swing her legs back.
Thorns scratched at her boots, and she lifted her feet.
Juno scrunched her features uneasily. 'Agh! I just need to gain enough momentum to leap across the gap.'
Inhaling sharply, she swung her legs forward like on a swing, pulled her finger from the fan's guards, and it snapped shut, turning the vine into petals as she fell.
She yanked an arm out, barely catching the broken ground, then groaning loudly as she pulled herself up.
The thorns had continued to follow her over the edge, scraping past sharts at they crawled.
She rolled aside and landed atop a shard of mirror that poked and cut her skin.
Pressing her hand into the ground, drawing more blood from her palm, she whisked her fan, conjuring larger, sturdier branches that smashed into the thorny growths, intercepting and shattering them into wooden bits.
The fox remained silent, yet its movements betrayed emotion.
It lunged, leaping from its platform to the one across from Juno.
This spirit could not act unless provoked, nor could it attack directly for reasons unknown.
Juno frowned, pushing herself to her feet to move out of its range.
As she ascended more broken platforms and fragments of architecture, the fox followed, as if guarding against her approach to something.
However, this didn't stop her from moving.
The fox's limbs skittered silently across sharp planes of floating glass, leaping across impossible gaps with a dancer's grace and a predator's patience.
Juno's feet slammed against a shifting platform of wood, then tile, then stone, and she nearly lost balance again.
Suddenly, another loud ring reverberated through the space.
This time, Juno felt it behind her eyes and beneath her ribs, as if the atmosphere itself had thickened.
The tiles beneath her folded, forcing her to pivot as the surface bent upward into a vertical slope. The mirror embedded into it now faced her like a door slammed shut.
The fox shadowed her tracks with poised and unreadable intent.
The moment her foot hit the next platform, it dissolved into fibers of rock and glass and completely vanished!
The illusions were growing more desperate. She dropped and rolled, catching herself on a broken marble step that hadn't existed seconds ago. A row of them now spiraled upward into the air, forming a makeshift staircase.
'Is this another trap or some sort of trail?' she briefly contemplated before ultimately taking it anyway, ascending two at a time.
The fox was now higher up, but its reflection still moved in tandem with her movements.
Its body coiled in panes that hovered midair beside the staircase, and even its eyes stayed aligned with hers no matter which direction she looked.
She had already exceeded her limit.
The step beneath her cracked with a sharp snap. Instinctively, she leaped forward. Instead of solid stone, her boot met the cold, smooth surface of glass.
Looking down, she was met only by her own reflection.
White Rice should have been visible, as his silhouette had been a constant presence in every mirror she'd encountered.
Yet here, his image was conspicuously absent.
She blinked, momentarily disoriented.
The smaller structures around her flickered, fading in and out like dying candle flames.
Perhaps the fox needed the mirrors to reshape the space, which could explain his reliance on other opponents during the earlier stages.
Her boot slid on the treacherous glass. She dropped to one knee and planted her fan into a nearby crack to steady herself.
An ambient hum intensified, pressing against her skull like white static.
She inhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing pulse.
'He seemed threatened when I touched that mirror. Shortly after, two mirrors went dark before collapsing.'
White Rice's form never directly confronted her.
Instead, he manipulated the environment, conjuring obstacles that seemed to arise with the very traits of an illusion.
His presence had remained refracted until he completely altered the space.
A realization dawned upon her as a rather unusual possibility emerged from the subtle details of White Rice's actions.
'What if he exists only within an illusion in which he can be seen… within the mirrors.'
She lifted her gaze to her reflection, and just beyond it, the fox's curled tail swept lazily in wait for her to continue climbing.
Outside of the mirrors, White Rice was but a ghost. She had only been able to catch physical glimpses of him through reflections.
Then, the mirror must be his anchor.
The earlier chaos hadn't been an assault. Rather, it was a panicked recalibration that intended to reconfigure its illusions after she had pierced its boundary.
Her memory reverted to the architectural sigil embedded in the mirror.
It wasn't a construct of White Rice's illusions since it had originated from beyond.
From base reality. Thus, by acknowledging it within the altered setting, she had committed the sole act that threatened his dominion: She rendered his illusion contrastable.
She murmured, "If he manifests only when reality is distorted... then perhaps eliminating the enablers of such distortions will annihilate him as well."
Her brow furrowed as she scrutinized the surrounding mirrors. Each one appeared functional, yet subtle discrepancies in their reflections hinted at deeper truths.
There was no singular "special" mirror; all were genuine. The illusion did not reside within the glass but within its occupant.
Her eyes narrowed.
The mirrors that were devoid of his presence reflected an unaltered reality. Their divergence from the others wasn't due to malfunction but because they mirrored what truly existed.
She continued piecing together events in her mind, fragments aligning like a puzzle without defined edges.
This suggested he wasn't merely projecting through the mirrors; he inhabited them, traversing between surfaces, utilizing reflections as both concealment and conduit.
Juno clenched her fists, the pulse in her knuckles echoing the rhythm of her resolve.
He was practically an illusion incarnate, thriving where perception faltered. Thus far, her most potent defense had been the maintenance of clarity.
An alternate strategy gradually crystallized in her mind.
'I need a mirror that he's not within the vicinity of, one that reflects reality. Through it, I can reconnect with the outside. From there...'
She pivoted, allowing her gaze to sweep slowly across her surroundings.
'From there, I believe I can bring everything back to a normal state.'
To be continued…