The mirrored Bram smirked.His reflection pointed to a different gate, eyes gleaming with quiet mockery.
"Wait—" Jory stammered. "What if that's the right one? I mean… it is you."
Felix clenched his jaw. "Don't be an idiot. It's an illusion."
Callen tilted his head, smirk half-cocked. "Funny thing, though. Sometimes illusions tell the truth. What if Ashcroft here just doesn't want to admit he's wrong?"
Bram's blood simmered. He forced his voice to stay level. "Shut up, Callen. We don't have time."
The System pulsed:
[ Timer: 15 seconds until corridor collapse ]
The mirrored gates creaked, rotating slowly. Each shimmered with subtle differences. One gate showed a wide-open path of calm turf. Another revealed a tunnel flooded with red light. The one Bram had chosen pulsed faintly with static at the edges, almost glitching.
Daren growled, low and dangerous. "Make a call, Ashcroft. You're the one seeing things."
Bram's chest tightened. He hated this. Hated the way their eyes burned into him, waiting for him to crack. But there was no time for hesitation. He felt sweat sting his temple, replay lines flickering faintly, overlaid on his vision.
He jabbed his finger forward. "Middle-left gate. Move!"
Daren didn't argue. He shoved past, muscling through the corridor. Felix followed, passing the ball up with careful touches. Jory scampered behind him, muttering prayers under his breath.
Callen lingered. His eyes flicked to Bram, then back to the other gate where mirrored-Bram waited, smirking like a devil.
Callen's smirk grew wider. "Fine. But if you're wrong, golden boy, I'm telling the entire class."
Bram ignored him. He sprinted after the others.
The ball rolled into the middle-left gate.
For a heartbeat, the turf felt solid. Real.
Then the mirrors convulsed, shattering illusions like broken glass. The false gates dissolved into mist. The one they'd chosen stabilized, opening into a narrow corridor lit by harsh white glow.
They'd picked right.
Cheers from the stands outside filtered faintly into the hall. A ripple of approval from coaches. Bram exhaled sharply. His pulse rattled in his throat.
But the System pulsed again:
[ Phase Two Cleared. Cohesion Score: 72% ][ Penalty: Callen –2 Cohesion Trust ]
Bram's jaw clenched. He didn't need the System to tell him. Callen hadn't trusted him fully. That mattered. Too much.
They pressed on.
The corridor narrowed further, until mirrors pressed so close their shoulders brushed the cold glass. Each reflection loomed larger, distorted by the angle.
Bram's reflection whispered again. This time sound leaked through. Faint, warped.
"You'll choke, Bram. Just like before."
He stiffened. His stomach dropped. No one else reacted.
He realized, with a chill, that only he could hear that one.
A sudden hiss, and the corridor ahead shimmered. Four identical balls dropped from the ceiling, bouncing in perfect synchronization. Each mirrored wall multiplied them until the space was full of endless bouncing spheres.
"Which one's real?" Jory yelped. He darted forward, panic in his steps. "If we guess wrong—"
"Don't guess!" Bram barked. "Wait."
He engaged Replay Vision. Ghostly trajectory lines burned across his vision, overlapping in chaotic webs. His head throbbed with the strain. Too many lines. Too many copies. But one burned steady, faintly blue.
"There—!" He pointed.
Felix didn't hesitate. He intercepted with a careful inside trap, cushioning the ball perfectly. The others vanished in a burst of static, leaving only the true ball rolling under his foot.
[ Phase Three Cleared. Cohesion Score: 76% ]
Felix's calm gaze met Bram's. "Good call."
For the first time all test, Bram let out a shaky breath. A sliver of relief.
But the relief shattered in the next instant.
Because the mirrored walls didn't shift this time. They melted.
The glass warped, flowing like liquid, reshaping into human figures. Five of them.
Exact copies of Team 7.
Mirrored Bram. Mirrored Callen. Mirrored Felix. Mirrored Jory. Mirrored Daren.
They stepped forward in perfect formation, their own ball at their feet. Their faces were twisted mockeries—eyes blank, smiles too wide.
"Are you kidding me?" Jory squeaked.
Marrow's voice boomed faintly from outside, almost amused: "Ah. Phase Four."
The mirrored team kicked off.
Their ball slammed into Team 7's with brutal accuracy, sending it skittering backward. The force rattled through Bram's foot as he trapped it, nearly losing balance.
Felix cursed under his breath. Daren roared, charging forward, shoulder lowering like a bull. But mirrored Daren mirrored him perfectly, slamming back with equal force. The collision shook the corridor.
Callen smirked, even as sweat dripped from his jaw. "Guess we'll see who's prettier—me or my reflection."
His reflection smirked back. Then nutmegged him, sliding the ball cleanly through his legs.
The stands outside howled with laughter. Even some seniors whistled.
Callen's face flushed crimson. Rage burned in his eyes.
"Bastard!" he snapped, lunging after his copy.
Bram's heart lurched. "Callen, no—!"
But Callen didn't hear him. His fury drowned everything. He tackled forward, two-footed, desperate to erase the humiliation.
His mirrored self vanished into mist.
And Callen crashed shoulder-first into the mirror wall.
The glass rippled like water, then solidified. He bounced back, groaning, clutching his shoulder. The ball skittered loose.
The mirrored team seized it instantly.
The System pulsed in harsh red:
[ Penalty Activated: Team Trust –5 ][ Warning: Team cohesion dropping. Failure likely. ]
Bram's stomach sank. This was spiraling. Fast.
The mirrored team advanced with ruthless precision, passing with inhuman speed. Each touch was crisp, each fake perfect.
Daren thundered to intercept, but mirrored Daren anticipated him exactly. Felix tried a tackle, mirrored Felix rolled it away with calm ease. Jory flailed between two copies, chasing shadows.
Bram felt the walls close in. His throat was dry, breath ragged. His System pulsed hot, whispering cold logic.
[ Forecast Potential Engaged. Prediction: Team 7 collapse in 3 minutes. Survival path: Unknown. ]
Unknown.
Bram grit his teeth. No. He refused. He would not collapse here.
But as the mirrored Bram advanced with cold precision, ball at his feet, lips curled in that same mocking smirk—Bram froze.
Because for the first time, it didn't look like his reflection.
It looked like his father.
**
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