After my resolution with Heracles, Achilles, and Boudica, I shed my insecurities. I still had doubts—and a certain axolotl owed me a translation—but, to my surprise, there was no sign of Axio. It was as if he were ashamed to show himself, or perhaps I simply no longer amused him. Either way, my determination now had a name, and that name was: Gemini.
Standing before the great Connector, which recognized me almost instantly, still barefoot, I felt the icy cold emanating from it. The sensation was like returning to life—a deep breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I should have been freezing or suffering, but for me, these moments—when the Connector returned sensations to me—were different: the metallic taste of my saliva, the clean scent of polished metal in the air, and the reflection it cast of a man… or perhaps two, fused from the torso down, almost like dancers, calmly passing a chain between them.
I extended my hand, invoking the Connector. Once again, no one was waiting for my return—but it felt different. This time, I knew that even if no one was waiting for me, I wasn't alone. Heracles had proven that to me with his warmth.
—The next time I see Rachel or the Emperor, I'll buy them something to drink.
Without hesitation, I placed my hand on the twin statue. It dissolved into particles of light and quickly consumed me, blinding me for an instant before I reappeared in a dimly lit place. I opened my eyes without much resistance. For the first time since arriving in this land, there was no trace of a sunset.
"This means I'm climbing the Nexo."
I thought, carefully advancing down a corridor poorly lit by a distant spotlight. I couldn't see anything beyond the light's reflection on the walls far ahead. From the cold biting into my feet, I could tell I was walking on glass or ice—and it was, without a doubt, both.
"They really found a way to give me a hint."
Mirrors.
Hundreds of thousands of mirrors, like a massive carnival funhouse, formed an immense labyrinth whose structure was simply surreal.
I exited the corridor only to arrive at a platform covered in red velvet that read Welcome, inside a room enclosed by transparent glass that revealed the colossal structure beyond. The place itself was a maze of mirrors on the sides, with glass both on the floor and the ceiling. It was dizzying and unsettling. The only thing that didn't belong was the velvet welcome mat.
—How marvelous… —I tried to step forward when the floor vanished beneath me—. —What the hell?!
Out of nowhere, the welcome mat was yanked into the air, hooked by what could only be described as a massive reddish-metal hand. It lifted both me and the platform into the air until I was face-to-face with what I could only interpret as a giant face—no, two faces—connected to a rotating platform with at least six arms. Like a mechanical spider with two human heads, constantly grabbing sections of the labyrinth and rearranging them again and again.
Clinging desperately to the carpet, I screamed at the top of my lungs:
—[Search V]!
But something was wrong. My skill didn't activate. Instead, a large system message appeared:
[Stars locked until entering the "Blue Labyrinth"]
"Damn it. One day they'll let me be happy."
After a few seconds, the arm placed me before a different conduit than the one I had entered through. Quickly, almost instinctively, I pulled out my silver knife. It was simple: cloth wrapped around the handle for grip, and a blade roughly fifteen centimeters long. I wasn't going to wait around if something appeared, so I entered the labyrinth.
Immediately after I stepped inside, a mirror sealed shut behind me, and another hand grabbed the segment I had just passed through. The sudden movement sent me tumbling to the ground as another message appeared:
[Yellow Labyrinth]
Aware of this, I examined the mirrors on the ceiling and floor, which bore a faint yellow hue. Taking advantage of the fact that I was still on the ground, I lay face down to check the height. There were at least four colors I could recognize: blue, red, yellow, and green. And if I wanted to use my [Search], I had to reach a blue quadrant.
I didn't hesitate. I couldn't do anything yet. I braced myself so that the moment the six-armed automaton reconnected me, I'd run until I found a blue intersection.
That was the plan. Truly.
But then, for the first time, I noticed one of the mirrors in front of me. It didn't reflect me—or at least, it was almost impossible that it was me. It was missing an ear, looked severely undernourished. The only thing that matched me were a few ragged tufts of red hair atop that creature's head.
Eventually, the floor stopped moving. I didn't hesitate—I stood up—but now I couldn't ignore what surrounded me.
Each mirror reflected something different. It was hard to explain. In one, there was a child wearing puffy pants, holding a lollipop and a toy. In another, a cook ran energetically with his tongue out. In another, a professional wrestler marched forward with a beer belly. There was even one where I had been gifted with curves so sensual they would make Ale fall in love with me all over again.
"These mirrors show… multiverses."
It was naive to think they were realistic possibilities. Considering that, to the Lord of the Nexo, this was clearly a video game, it wouldn't surprise me if these images were the same for every player. Distracted, I ended up colliding with one of the mirrors. It immediately darkened. My reflection became nothing more than a blackish stain, like mold clinging and peeling away from the other side of the glass.
It was disturbing—yet hypnotic—to watch the mass try to reach me. And it wasn't alone. The other reflections had stopped in front of me, watching from their respective worlds.
—Fantastic… every version of me looks more pathetic than the last.
My hesitation cost me. I got caught in another movement of the automaton, which ripped away the segment I stood on. The instability sent me crashing to the floor, and then it began—one by one.
A faint toc.
Then another.
Then another.
Until it grew into a painful crack.
The hand of a clown version of myself had shattered against the glass.
Everyone screamed at once. It was unmistakably my voice. And before I could process it, my own hand twisted unnaturally.
The pain escalated. My wrist had dislocated perfectly—and yet the clown, after groaning, resumed pounding the glass with the same hand. The pain intensified until, suddenly, my fingers began to bleed.
Without realizing it, the structure had stopped moving.
I didn't think. I jumped through the opening to the next level before they could follow. The pain stopped instantly. My hand was no longer torturing itself—but it remained dislocated, fingers bent into shapes I couldn't even describe. My stomach churned and expelled what little I had eaten, leaving an ugly liquid stain on the bluish floor.
—Blue…
I had reached a blue quadrant. And above my head, the message appeared:
[Blue Labyrinth]