Lena stumbled backward, away from the mirror.
The glass no longer shimmered — it pulsed like skin under a heartbeat. The woman in the red coat was still inside, but now she wasn't just staring.
She was mimicking Lena's movements — but out of sync. A delay. A few seconds behind. Like she was learning how to move again.
Lena grabbed the note from the key box and shoved it into her pocket, backing toward the door.
But when she opened it—
There was no hallway.
Just darkness.
Pitch-black void, stretching out in every direction.
And then, a voice. Her own voice, but not from her mouth.
"You're trying to exit a room you never entered."
She slammed the door shut.
The window — maybe she could break the glass. She picked up a lamp and hurled it at the window. It bounced off like rubber.
The skyline outside flickered, glitching — like a corrupted simulation. For a moment, she saw something behind the skyline: a massive circular vault door, covered in symbols, rotating slowly.
This wasn't a room.
It was a containment unit.
And the woman in the mirror… wasn't trapped in the glass.
She was monitoring it.
The lights blinked.
A chime sounded overhead.
"Orientation commencing in Room 44B," the voice droned from nowhere. "Please present yourself for behavioral sync."
The walls shifted. The mirror grew wider, crawling across the entire wall like oil spreading through water. The red-coated woman now had her hand pressed against the other side — mirroring Lena's panic, her terror, her confusion.
Then something behind the reflection moved.
A third figure.
Not Lena. Not Red.
A man.
He had no eyes.
Only a deep, twisting void where his face should have been.
And he was looking straight at her.
Lena screamed and turned away — just as a hidden panel opened in the far wall. This time, it was a hallway. But not the one from earlier. This one was lined with televisions, each screen showing different versions of her.
Lena crying in a burning room.
Lena walking in a desert.
Lena sitting beside a version of Cal who looked twenty years older.
The hallway was a museum of every path she could've taken — or had already taken.
As she passed one screen, the Lena inside turned and met her gaze.
And spoke.
"This is your sixth loop. You're not the original."
Lena stopped.
The screen blinked to black.
"No…" she whispered. "That's not possible."
But doubt had already rooted.
If this wasn't her first time… then what else didn't she remember?
As she reached the end of the corridor, a door slid open automatically.
Inside was a sterile white chamber with a single chair and a console.
And standing beside it—
Cal.
Or… a version of him.
He looked up with hollow eyes and said:
"Welcome back, Subject 6-LM. We've been waiting to try again."