Dawn crept over Liria, painting the palace spires in chilly silver. But sleep had barely touched Prince Caelum's eyes. He sat at the foot of his bed, blanket in a nest around him, gaze fixed on the mirror where, in the dark before dawn, another "admin" had whispered through the glass.
Downstairs, the palace buzzed. Members of the newly-formed Patch Council—scholars, warriors, and even a few enterprising children—assembled in the great hall. Their task, as Emperor Magnus put it, was simple: "Test the limits of our world's code and safeguard what holds us together." But the weight of the unknown pressed on everyone.
Connecting Worlds
In his room, Caelum stared at the mirror's surface, so ordinary in daylight. Fingers trembling with both fear and curiosity, he touched the frame. The interface flickered.
[Private Channel Request: MIRROR ADMIN]
[Accept/Decline]
He whispered, "Accept."
The glass rippled, reality warping—then a tiny hallway unfolded before him, colors oddly inverted, with fluffy clouds drifting through the floor. The other admin, a girl this time—pale hair, luminous eyes—peered through the haze. "You're real! I thought I was broken," she beamed, sending lines of code like confetti between them. "I'm Mira, from the Mirror Dominion. How did you open the gate?"
Caelum grinned. "I learned... by playing."
For a moment, the children shared memories—of fixing bugs, patching small errors, bringing joy and mischief to their kingdoms. But Mira's world was shifting nervously: colors dimmed, warnings hovered above her.
"Glitch alert: Unstable backdoor. Elder Admins approaching."
A cold ripple passed through both worlds. Mira's face contorted. "You have to close the channel. If the others see you—if they trace it back—they'll want to control you. Please."
"Will you be okay?" Caelum asked.
She nodded bravely. "Just find the Patch Council. You're not alone. The system is bigger than either of us. Careful with mirrors. They reflect as much danger as possibility."
She vanished. The glass went dark, interface silent but for a single haunting message:
[Unknown Error: Connection Incomplete]
Imperial Warnings
Downstairs, Emperor Magnus could sense magic twisting in the air. "A connection was made," he muttered to the Patch Council. "The boy opens doors none of us can see. Patchers, prepare. If a mirror army comes, we must be ready to defend not just our world, but the system itself."
The Eight Nation Leaders posted a protective ring around Caelum's chambers. Spells, traps, and digital wards knitted the boundaries. Lady Pyrra barked, "No unauthorized reflections!" Lord Umbra simply watched every shadow, eyes narrowed.
The Bug's Trace
Meanwhile, the court mage discovered a linear echo—"Bug code," leftover from the last attack—slipping between the halls, searching for open doors. The Patch Council's first job: debug every surface, every reflection, hunting for entry points.
Two young Patchers, twin siblings from Terragaard, were the first to spot something odd: garden pond waters that rippled with rainbow code, whispering riddles about backdoors and balance. With Caelum's help, they "quarantined" the patch, trapping a flickering bug inside a snow globe.
Foreshadowing of Invasion
Far away, in the darkest corner of the Mirror Dominion, the Elder Admins—hints of which Mira had seen—argued over the lost connection.
"We caught his code," one hissed. "Soon, the link will solidify."
"The system's new admin will either join us… or fall."
A Prince's Resolve
That night, Caelum stood at his window, heart pounding. No more fear. He would gather his friends—Patchers and leaders alike—and learn everything he could about the system, the mirrors, and the widening shadow.
"To protect this world," he whispered, "I'll become more than admin. I'll become the bridge."
The interface chimed, soft and resolute:
[New Quest: Defend the Patch. Unite the Users. Prepare for System War.]
Caelum smiled, ready for the future—uncertain, dazzling, and, for the first time, truly his own to shape.