The tower did not exist the last time I looked.
I am certain of that.
Just moments ago, the alley stretched empty before me—narrow concrete walls, flickering neon signs, and rainwater pooling along cracked asphalt. But now the structure rises from the ground as if it has always belonged here. Its surface glimmers like liquid glass, tall and silent, reflecting the dim lights of the city.
And reflecting me.
I step closer cautiously. My heartbeat grows louder in my ears, matching the steady dripping of rain from the broken pipes above. The pearl necklace rests against my chest, warm and alive. The letters EG glow faintly beneath my collar.
"What are you…" I whisper.
The tower answers with silence.
Its walls ripple like disturbed water, showing fragments of memories across the glass surface. I see the bus stop where I collapsed that night. The rain pouring endlessly. The man standing beneath the streetlamp, his shadow stretching unnaturally long.
Then the image changes.
I see myself.
But not the frightened version of me standing here.
This version looks older. Colder. Her eyes shine with the same golden glow I saw in the reflection before.
My breath catches.
"That's not me," I say quietly.
The rain suddenly grows heavier, striking the tower's surface with soft metallic sounds. The reflections distort again, sliding across the glass like moving paintings.
Another scene appears.
A mirror.
Cracked.
Blood running along its edges.
A pair of hands pressing a dragon-shaped seal into the glass.
My hands.
"No…" I step backward, shaking my head violently. "I never did that."
But deep inside my chest, something twists painfully.
Because part of me knows the memory is real.
The pearl burns warmer against my skin.
A low vibration hums through the ground beneath my feet.
Then—
The tower door opens.
There was no door before.
Now a narrow opening appears in the glass surface, unfolding like a blooming flower. Soft golden light spills onto the wet pavement.
I hesitate.
Every instinct tells me not to enter.
But another force—quieter, deeper—pulls me forward.
The same force that dragged me through the mirror.
The same force that made me choose the rain.
I take a slow step inside.
The moment I cross the threshold, the rain disappears.
Not fades.
Not weakens.
Disappears completely.
The air inside the tower is still and warm, carrying the faint scent of lilies—the same scent that filled the strange bedroom where I woke up after the bus stop.
My chest tightens.
"He's been here," I murmur.
The interior of the tower is larger than it should be. Much larger.
Rows of mirrors line the circular walls, stretching upward into darkness. Hundreds of reflections stare back at me from every direction.
But something is wrong.
They are not synchronized.
One reflection raises its hand before I do.
Another tilts its head in the opposite direction.
A third one simply stands still.
Watching.
My stomach drops.
"You're not real," I whisper to them.
A voice answers behind me.
"You're sure about that?"
I spin around instantly.
The man stands near the entrance, his hands in his coat pockets, completely dry despite the storm outside.
His expression is calm.
Too calm.
"You followed me," I accuse.
"No," he replies quietly. "You came where you were meant to."
I glare at him. "You locked me in a room. You took my phone. You dragged me into this nightmare!"
"And yet," he says softly, "you're still walking forward."
I open my mouth to argue—but no words come out.
Because he's right.
Every chance I had to run, I stepped deeper instead.
Toward the mirror.
Toward the snow.
Toward this tower.
He studies me carefully.
"You're remembering faster than I expected."
My fingers tighten around the pearl necklace.
"Tell me the truth," I demand. "What is this place?"
He glances around at the mirrors.
"The place you built."
The words strike like lightning.
"I never built anything!"
"You did," he replies. "You just erased the memory."
The mirrors around us suddenly flicker.
Images flash across their surfaces—too fast to fully see.
Rain.
Fire.
Broken glass.
Shadows crawling across city streets.
And a symbol repeating again and again.
A dragon.
Wrapped around two letters.
E.G.
My legs weaken.
"That's my name," I whisper.
He nods slowly.
"Yes."
The air grows colder.
One mirror near the center of the room suddenly cracks.
Then another.
Then another.
Thin fractures spread across the glass surfaces like spiderwebs.
My heart starts racing.
"What's happening?" I ask.
The man's expression darkens.
"She's waking up."
A sharp chill runs through my spine.
"Who?"
Before he can answer—
Every mirror shatters at once.
Glass explodes across the floor in a deafening storm of fragments.
And from the center of the tower, rising slowly from the darkness beneath the floor—
A figure steps forward.
She looks exactly like me.
But her eyes glow like molten gold.
And when she smiles, the entire tower trembles.
"Finally," she says softly.
"I was getting tired of waiting."
The man exhales slowly beside me.
"That," he says grimly,
"is the part of you that never forgot."