Chapter 2: The Mirror Bleeds Twice
I dreamt of a red staircase.
Each step I took whispered a different version of my death.
At the top waited a mirror.
It didn't reflect me.
It remembered me.
The girl was already there.
Senna Avalon.
Or someone wearing her name like skin.
She stood barefoot on the edge of a broken clock-face, surrounded by black gears and hanging keys.
"You chose not to choose," she said softly, like a lullaby written for executioners.
"And so the game punished you."
I opened my mouth. No voice came. Only static.
My throat burned with the taste of rust and old blood.
She turned, her silhouette trembling like candlelight.
"Do you know what floor this is?" she asked.
I didn't.
"It's not Zero. It's Below."
She smiled again.
"This is where the lost get rewritten."
Floor -1 – The Mirror Cellar
Trial Initiation: False Self
Objective: Break your reflection before it replaces you.
Time: 13 minutes
Warning: Failure results in permanent overwrite.
The mirror rippled.
And stepped out.
It wore my face.
But its eyes were calm.
That's how I knew it wasn't me.
Not anymore.
My reflection bowed. Courteous. Controlled.
"I am what you would be if you stopped feeling."
It raised a hand. The chains on my wrists snapped.
"Fight me or fade. Either way… you'll thank me."
We clashed in silence.
The mirror-me fought like memory — no wasted movement, no hesitation.
Each strike brought back something I'd forgotten.
A woman crying in a fire-lit hallway.
A boy with white gloves standing in a circle of chalk.
My hands trembling over a red-stained letter.
Blood pooled beneath me.
The mirror version didn't bleed.
But I did.
And I remembered.
Senna's voice echoed: "Break the false self, or become it."
I screamed. Not in fear. In refusal.
I shattered the mirror with my bare hands.
My reflection screamed — not in pain, but in betrayal.
Trial Passed – Fragment Stability Increased
Memory Anchor 2/4 Restored
I collapsed.
And when I awoke…
She was sitting beside me.
Not a dream. Not a system projection.
Senna.
Real. Solid. Quiet.
She pressed something into my hand — a coin with no faces.
"Flip this when you're ready to betray someone," she said.
"Because in this world, loyalty is more dangerous than lies."
The door behind her creaked open.
Floor -2 awaited.
And so did the next lie.