It began with a falling feather — made of light.
Drifting lazily down from a cloudless sky, it shimmered like sunlight caught in a prism. When it landed gently on Dee's shoulder, it pulsed once — and spoke.
"The mirror city calls. Come. Remember."
Dee blinked, instinctively brushing it off before realizing it had already vanished.
"Well," he muttered, adjusting his collar. "That's not ominous at all."
"Feathered omens?" Hiro said, eyebrows raised. "We've had worse."
Vampher rolled his eyes. "You drank a sentient soup once."
"It dared me," Hiro said defensively. "And you all just watched."
"It was bubbling and talking," Dee said. "Honestly, it was kind of a good show."
"You hiccupped in Elvish for two hours afterward," Vampher added.
Hiro grinned. "Worth it. I got a poem out of it."
The Shimmering Gate
Three days and one cursed bridge later — a bridge that told awful puns every time you stepped wrong — they found it.
A lone archway of silver glass, rising from the center of a still lake like a spine of moonlight. No city in sight. No path, no road. Only the mirror-like surface of the lake and that glinting arch.
The sun was directly overhead, yet everything cast double shadows.
"This the right place?" Hiro asked, peering into the water. "Because it looks like a trap. A shiny, elegant, definitely-magical trap."
Dee nodded slowly. "The City of Glass Memories hides until called. The arch is its key. It exists in folded time, only visible to those meant to find it."
"Do we knock or chant or sacrifice something?" Hiro asked.
"I vote we don't sacrifice anything this time," Dee said.
Vampher stepped forward, quiet and certain. "No. You remember."
He paused under the arch, the light painting reflections onto his face. For a moment, his expression shifted — something between dread and longing.
As he passed beneath the arch, the lake rippled outward — then upward — and the world flipped like a page in a book.
The Reflected Realm
They stood in a city built from glass and shadow, where every surface shimmered with phantom light.
Skyscrapers of translucent crystal stretched high into a sky that shifted color with each blink. The air felt thin, not from lack of oxygen, but from too many memories pressed into every breath.
Every building mirrored a dream, a nightmare, or a memory. Streets curved like thoughts, changing direction if you doubted where you were going. Windows flickered with scenes from the past — laughing families, sorrowful farewells, decisive betrayals, and moments suspended in tragedy or triumph.
A woman wept in a window, repeating the same goodbye with every rotation of the glass. A boy ran down a hallway, tripped, then vanished in reverse. A warrior died mid-scream — paused — then began again.
"Is this place... alive?" Hiro whispered.
"Not alive. Remembering," Dee answered. He pressed a hand to a nearby wall. "The city doesn't show reality. It shows what was. Or what was feared. It captures emotional resonance."
"And it never lies," Vampher added softly, gaze fixed on a tall tower of broken mirrors. Inside, a younger version of himself stood amid fire and blood.
The memory-self looked up and whispered:
"It's not a curse. It's me."
Vampher's hand curled into a fist.
Hiro's gaze darted from window to window, his usual bravado quieted. "Feels like a place you come to meet the worst version of yourself."
"Or the truest," Dee said.
The Guide
They weren't alone.
In the city's center stood a cloaked figure, veiled in strands of silver thread that shimmered like dew. Her presence warped the light around her.
"Welcome, Weavers," she said, voice melodic and hollow. "You seek the next Seal."
"You're the gatekeeper?" Dee asked, cautiously.
She tilted her head. "Merely a guide. My name was Elshar, once. Here, I am Echo."
She gestured with a gloved hand, revealing a spiraled obelisk made of cracked glass. It pulsed gently, like a heartbeat echoing through the square.
"The city remembers all who have sought the Seals. Most left broken. A few left changed."
"And us?" Hiro asked. "What's the game this time? Trial by existential dread?"
Echo stepped aside. "Pass the three trials. Memory, Thread, and Reflection. Only then will the Second Seal awaken."
Vampher sighed, brushing his coat back. "Of course there are trials."
Trial of Memory
The moment they agreed, the world shifted again.
Dee found himself in a lab — familiar and sterile, filled with half-scribed notes and glowing glyphs. His younger self hunched at a desk, drawing circles in the air, chasing perfection in patterns.
"I did this to understand the world," young-Dee said without looking up. "But I forgot the world had people."
Dee felt a lump in his throat. He reached forward but couldn't touch. "That's why I don't work alone anymore. I learned. I remember."
The lab dissolved into dust.
—
Hiro stood on the scorched ground of his childhood farm. The laughter of his parents echoed briefly before turning to screams. Flames roared. The Nightmare Devil appeared — and his younger self faced it, armed only with a rusty scythe.
"You should've run," the memory said, voice trembling.
"I didn't," Hiro said. "And I won. Even if it broke me."
The fire faded. The land grew still. A bird landed on the scythe's remains, tilting its head.
—
Vampher stood before a grave. A child's laughter echoed behind him. A small girl appeared beside the headstone, smiling with sad eyes.
"You never let go," she whispered.
"I can't," he whispered back. "But I won't let the pain stop me either. I owe you more than that."
She touched his hand. "Then go."
And he did.
Trial of Thread
Back in the plaza, the ground trembled — then split.
From it rose a massive creature of tangled filaments. It had no defined shape, only endless coils of light and shadow. Eyes opened between threads. Mouths whispered in overlapping tongues. The beast radiated loneliness more than threat.
Echo stood at the edge. "This thread-beast is not an enemy. It is the sorrow of forgotten dreams. You must calm it."
"So no fireballs," Hiro muttered.
"Talk to it," Dee said. "Listen. Find the story it wants remembered."
They moved cautiously around the creature. Each eye showed a different memory — a child who vanished, a nameless soldier, a crumbling monument. The whispers were pleas: "Don't forget me," "I mattered," "I was here."
Vampher closed his eyes, reached into the threads, and gently pulled one free — a single name etched in fading golden thread.
"You wanted to be known," he said softly. "So let us remember you."
He pressed the thread to the creature's chest. Its coils slowed. Its eyes closed. The whispers ceased.
The beast dissolved, leaving only a faint hum.
Echo inclined her head. "You honor the forgotten. You pass."
Trial of Reflection
They climbed the central spire, its walls gleaming with every memory they had tried to bury. Echo led them into a chamber of silence.
There stood the mirror.
It was a smooth pane of polished silver, untouched by time, glowing faintly with inner light. No reflection showed at first.
"Each of you must look. Face what waits," Echo said.
Dee stepped forward. His image formed — older, seated among the gods, a throne at his feet. They offered him dominion, applause, and purpose.
He shook his head. Even in the vision, he turned away.
"I don't need power without people."
The throne crumbled.
—
Hiro stepped next.
The day of his curse replayed. The Nightmare Devil's blade sank into his chest, branding him. He screamed — but no one came.
"I was always alone in that moment," he said. "But I don't have to be alone forever."
—
Vampher looked last.
He saw a world burning. He saw himself walking away.
Then — the mirror shifted.
He turned back. Reached into the fire. Shouted: "I can fix this. Give me a chance!"
He staggered away from the mirror, chest heaving.
"That... hasn't happened yet."
Echo placed a hand on the mirror's surface. It shimmered.
"The future is a memory that hasn't chosen yet. The Second Seal lies in the place where timelines diverge."
She handed Dee a shard of mirror-glass.
"Follow where it shines."
Goodbye, City of Echoes
The city didn't fade.
It folded.
Panels of mirrored light slid over each other, rearranging in slow spirals until the trio stood once more outside the archway.
The lake was still. The sky calm. A breeze brushed their cheeks like a sigh.
Dee studied the shard in his hand — it pulsed with soft, directional light.
"We know where to go next," he said.
"Where?" Hiro asked, stretching his arms.
Vampher looked into the distance, his eyes clouded.
"To the place that could have been."
Elsewhere…
A figure in a tattered coat traced a map into smoke, each stroke burning with memory.
"Two Seals now. They're moving fast."
An older voice replied, distant but close — like a thought not yet spoken aloud:
"They should. The Third is already cracking."
The smoke shifted into tendrils.
They smiled — and whispered into the threads:
"Let the ghosts remember.
Let the world forget."