The air was colder now, and the ground beneath our feet felt even more unstable. We'd passed through the twisted hall of mirrors, the Reflection Roulette, and come out on the other side with our minds racing and our hearts pounding. But the trials were far from over, and I could feel the weight of what was coming next pressing against my chest.
"Ready for the next one?" Alice's voice drifted to us from nowhere, as usual, but this time, there was an edge to it. "You've made it this far, but now... now you'll see the cost of your choices."
The Shard Game.
I didn't know what that meant exactly, but as soon as the words left her mouth, the ground trembled beneath us, and the world around us shifted again. The mist that had been swirling around us thickened, enveloping everything in a blanket of white. The edges of the world blurred, and for a moment, I thought we were back in the Hall of Echoes. But no, the air was different here — denser, like we were deep underground.
And then the world snapped into focus.
We were standing in a darkened room. A large, round table sat in the center, covered in glass shards — thousands of them, each one catching the dim light like broken stars. The shards glowed faintly, a cold blue light pulsing from within each of them, as though they held something important inside.
I could hear the faint clink of glass shifting underfoot, and when I looked down, I saw a trail of blood-red footprints marking the way we'd come in.
"Take a shard," Alice's voice echoed, now slightly more insistent. "The truth is hidden within each one. The more you reveal, the closer you'll get to the answer. But be careful. Some shards are sharper than they seem."
I glanced around at Arisa and James, their faces just as confused and wary as mine. The shards on the table looked… wrong. There was something about them that made the air feel heavier, the silence unbearable. It was as if each shard held a part of us — some truth we weren't ready to face.
"How do we know which ones are real?" Arisa asked, her voice tight with uncertainty.
"You don't," Alice responded, the words cutting through the air like a blade. "But you'll find out soon enough. Pick one."
I stepped forward first, reaching for a shard. As my fingers closed around it, a sudden wave of dread washed over me, but I fought to steady myself. The shard felt smooth in my hand, but it had a weight to it, something deep inside it that made my skin crawl.
"Alex, be careful," James muttered, but it was too late. The moment my fingers wrapped around the shard, it began to glow brighter, pulsing with a cold light that seemed to reflect every fear and regret I had ever felt.
The room around me seemed to distort. The shadows stretched, grew, and before I could even react, the shard pulled me into its depths.
I was no longer in the room.
I stood in front of a mirror.
But this wasn't just any mirror. This was a reflection of myself, but different. Older, worn down, with shadows under my eyes and blood dripping from my hands. I could hear my own voice, but it wasn't me speaking. It was the reflection of every dark thought I'd ever had, every mistake, every failure.
"You think you're different?" The voice was a rasp, twisted with anger. "You're just like the rest of them. You always will be."
I recoiled, feeling the pressure of the words pressing against me, making my chest tighten. This wasn't me. This wasn't who I was. But it was hard to ignore the feeling gnawing at the back of my mind.
"Stop it," I whispered, taking a step back. "You're not real."
But the reflection smiled, that dark smile that twisted every bit of light from the air. "You can't outrun yourself, Alex. You'll never escape what's inside you."
I turned away, struggling to shake the feeling. But just as I did, the reflection reached out, its fingers brushing the glass. The mirror cracked, and the shard in my hand pulsed again, dragging me back to the present.
I stumbled backward, gasping for air as the room snapped back into focus.
"Alex?" James's voice reached me, filled with concern. I looked at him, still reeling from what I'd seen.
"I'm fine," I muttered, though my voice was unsteady. "It's just a reflection. It's not real."
But the words felt hollow, like I was trying to convince myself more than anyone else.
Arisa stepped up, her hand shaking as she reached for a shard of her own. This time, the room seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for something to happen.
She picked one — a jagged shard with a dark core — and immediately, the air shifted again.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the distance, but they weren't our own. They were coming closer, faster, and with each step, the temperature in the room dropped.
"I can feel it," Arisa said softly, her face pale. "Something's coming."
Suddenly, the air around us turned cold, and shadows flickered along the edges of the room. The shards began to shake, their lights pulsing faster now, as if they were trying to escape the grasp of time itself. Then the shadows grew longer, crawling across the floor like living things.
The shadowy figures emerged — distorted, twisted shapes that seemed to be made of smoke and glass. They moved closer, their forms stretching and shifting. They were coming for us.
The Shard Game had begun.