The hall stretched outward, expanding into a cathedral of mirrors. Every surface reflected a version of her—dozens, hundreds—each slightly different.
One was bowed so deeply she looked folded in half.
One had torn wings.
One knelt beside Aiden—but he looked away.
One stood alone while others laughed together.
A bell rang.
The system did not announce itself.
A voice did.
Soft. Kind. Cruel because of it.
"Welcome, former property."
Aethoniel screamed.
"D-Don't call me that!" She spun, wings flaring in panic. "I'm—I'm his wife!"
The voice hummed thoughtfully.
"Are you?"
The mirrors shifted again.
She saw Aiden—standing tall, surrounded by strength. Luna's certainty. Nyxion's confidence. Venya's warmth. Others who stood straight beside him.
And then—
Herself.
Behind him.
Half a step back.
Eyes down.
Hands folded.
Her breath hitched. "I-I don't mean to…" She said quickly, desperately. "I try. I really try."
The floor cracked.
Words burned into the air, one by one.
