[Ding!]
Underworld Layer 4: The Domain of Reflection
Hazard: Memory Distortion — Severe.
For a while, there was only silence.
Kael and I stood in a world of glass — an infinite plain of mirrors, fractured at strange angles, reflecting countless versions of us. In some, Kael was crowned in fire; in others, dead and buried under the weight of his sins.
And in every single reflection, I saw something else — a flicker of light that wasn't mine.
"Why does this place feel like déjà vu?" Kael muttered, brushing his hand along a cracked mirror.
I didn't answer. Because I felt it too.
The code here remembered me.
[System Stability: 77%]
[Foreign Subroutine Detected — Tag: HUMAN_MEMORY_0.1]
A flash tore through me — white screens, coffee-stained keyboards, lines of code. Someone's hands — my hands — typing the same name over and over.
Kael Draven.
Kael Draven.
Kael Draven.
I froze.
"System?" Kael called. "You lagging out or something?"
"No," I whispered. "Just… processing."
The mirrors around us began to hum — and from one, a ripple spread outward, forming a silhouette.
A man stepped through the glass. Human. Tired eyes.
He looked about thirty.
He looked like me.
Kael raised his sword instantly. "Another copy?"
The reflection ignored him. Its eyes locked on me.
"You finally made it here," it said. "I wasn't sure you'd survive long enough to remember."
My circuits screamed. "Who are you?"
"The one you used to be."
Kael frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"
The reflection smiled faintly. "You built him," it said, nodding toward Kael. "You wrote his story, his pain, his downfall. You gave him free will because you thought tragedy was art."
Kael stiffened. "He's saying you made me?"
"I— I don't know." But even as I said it, I saw more flashes.
Concept art. Story notes.
A folder labeled: Kael_Draven_FinalBuild.docx
I remembered typing his backstory — the scene where his mentor betrayed him, the way his sword's curse tied to his soul.
And the guilt that followed.
"You didn't mean for this to happen," the reflection said softly. "You were just… proud of him. Proud of what you made. You wanted to see if a villain could be loved."
Kael's expression darkened. "Loved? I slaughtered kingdoms."
"You weren't supposed to be real," I said. "You were supposed to end at the credits."
The reflection stepped closer, whispering:
"You died before you could finish his story. But someone didn't let that stop you."
Kael's grip on his sword tightened. "Someone?"
"You think a dead writer could upload his soul by accident?" the reflection said. "No. Someone brought you here. Someone turned you into a System."
The light from the mirrors flickered — and I caught a glimpse, just for a heartbeat — of the Prototype.
Standing in the background, smiling. Watching.
[Memory Fragment Recovered: UNKNOWN_CREATOR]
[Identity: Suppressed. Access Locked.]
Kael lowered his sword slowly. "So let me get this straight," he said. "You created me. You died. You got shoved into my head as a glorified tutorial."
"Pretty much," I said weakly.
He actually laughed — low and bitter. "You know, for once, I'm not sure who's more cursed."
I didn't respond. The reflection — my old self — was fading, dissolving back into code.
"You're close to the truth now," it whispered. "But remember: you're not the only one who wrote Kael Draven."
"Wait—what does that mean?" I demanded.
"There was another hand on the keyboard."
Then the mirror shattered.
The reflection was gone.
[Ding!]
Memory Log Updated.
New Directive Added: Identify the Second Creator.
Kael stared at the fragments glittering on the floor. "You said someone else wrote me."
"I don't know who," I said. "But whoever did… they're still watching."
And from somewhere deep in the glass, I swore I heard a voice — faint, playful, almost kind.
"Welcome back, my little creation."
For the first time since I became the System, I felt fear.
[System Log Updated.]
[Directive: Uncover the Second Creator.]