As I push myself up from the sand, brushing grains from my armor, I realize something unsettling.
There is nothing remarkable about this place.
The ocean is black, yes. The water looks like ink poured endlessly to the horizon. Each wave crashes softly, foaming a dull gray before sinking back into darkness. But the sand beneath my boots is normal. Pale. Warm. It sinks slightly under my weight.
The forest ahead of us looks ordinary too. Green canopy. Tall trunks. Leaves rustling lightly in the wind.
It should feel peaceful.
It does not.
The air feels tight. Pressed. Like lungs struggling to draw a full breath. My instincts are screaming at me to turn around, to run into the ocean even if it means drowning. Anything but move forward.
I glance at my team.
Jordan's jaw is clenched harder than I have ever seen it. Her shoulders are rigid, fingers flexing unconsciously like she is already preparing to strike.
Maya's eyes scan everything calmly, but her breathing is slower than usual, measured.
Cameron looks pale beneath the faint glow of his lightning aura. Too quiet.
Everyone feels it.
This place does not want us here.
"Where are we?" Maya asks softly, her voice almost swallowed by the wind.
"I'm not sure," Jordan says. "But I don't like it. How do we escape?"
"We will figure that out later," I answer, though my chest feels hollow when I say it.
We move into the forest in a straight line, spaced just enough to react if something jumps us. Leaves crunch beneath our boots. The trees seem taller the deeper we go. Shadows stretch strangely across the ground, even though the sky is clear.
Cameron falls behind slightly.
I slow my pace until I am walking beside him.
"Are you okay?"
He does not look at me at first. His eyes are fixed ahead.
"Yeah. I just do not like the feeling."
"The feeling of what?"
He hesitates.
"The feeling that something is waiting for us. Not chasing. Not hunting. Just waiting. Like it already knows how this ends."
His words settle heavy in my stomach.
"We will be fine," I tell him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We trained for this."
He nods, but the expression on his face reminds me too much of the lieutenant we barely survived. The way his lightning flickered that day. The way we were not ready.
We are stronger now.
I think.
I hope.
We emerge from the forest.
And that is when we see them.
Two figures standing in the clearing.
A woman with long white hair that falls like silk down her back. Her skin is pale, almost luminescent against the dark tones of her clothing. Black robes, elegant and simple, flowing slightly in the wind. No visible weapon.
Beside her stands a boy, no taller than five foot eight. Black clothing as well, tighter fitting. His face is calm, expressionless. There is a dark stain along his side. Blood that has dried but not been cleaned. He does not shift. Does not blink.
Behind them is the portal.
The same spiraling distortion we entered through, hovering above the ground like a wound in reality.
They are guarding it.
As we approach, the woman smiles faintly.
"I am Kurahana of the Grief Division," she says. Her voice is soft. Gentle. Like someone greeting guests for tea. "You must be the Dragon Keepers."
We say nothing.
Her eyes move across each of us slowly. Studying. Measuring.
"Not talkative," she muses. "This is Kangetsu. My apprentice."
The boy does not react.
But the pressure in the air intensifies.
Jordan steps forward first, earth beginning to pulse faintly beneath her boots.
"We do not care who you are. We need to get past you to close the portal."
Kurahana tilts her head slightly.
"Close it?" she repeats, as if tasting the idea. "Why would I allow that?"
"It does not matter what you allow," I say, stepping forward beside Jordan. "We are doing it."
For a split second, the smile fades from her face.
Then she snaps her fingers.
The sound is small.
But the world reacts.
A screech tears through the air. Not from above. Not from the forest. From everywhere at once. The ground vibrates violently. My knees buckle. My hands fly to my ears as pain explodes through my skull.
Jordan drops beside me, teeth clenched.
Maya gasps, falling to one knee.
Cameron shouts something but it is drowned by the sound.
The earth splits open.
A massive blue skeletal head forces its way out of the ground, tearing soil and roots apart like paper. Its skull is elongated, hollow eye sockets glowing with a deep red underlight. A single clawed hand follows. Then shoulders. Ribcage. Long limbs scraping against the earth as it rises to full height.
It towers above us.
Its bones glow faintly beneath translucent blue energy. Its jaw opens unnaturally wide.
The screech stops.
Silence falls heavy.
"This is Sengoku," Kurahana says softly. "My pet."
The creature's red gaze locks onto us.
I force myself to stand, drawing my sword. Fire flickers along the blade.
Before I can move, Kurahana speaks again.
"Shadowville Technique. Deep Reflection."
The world shatters.
Sengoku moves.
I do not see it move.
One moment it stands still. The next, it is already swinging its arm.
The ground erupts.
Glass explodes upward from beneath the sand. Not sand transformed. True glass. Dark, reflective, razor sharp. It grows in walls, twisting and bending midair as if shaped by invisible hands.
The entire clearing fractures into a labyrinth.
The force hits us like a tidal wave.
I am thrown backward. My head slams into something hard. Trees behind us snap and splinter as the shockwave tears through the forest.
My vision goes white.
When I open my eyes again, everything is wrong.
The ocean is gone.
The forest is gone.
The portal is gone.
All around me stand towering walls of black glass. Smooth. Polished. Reflective. They rise high into the sky, curving inward slightly, trapping the light. The ground beneath me is glass as well, cold and flawless.
My reflection stares back from every surface.
Alone.
"Jordan!" I shout.
No response.
"Maya! Cameron!"
Nothing.
My voice echoes strangely, distorted as it bounces between the walls.
I push myself up and immediately feel pain shoot through my leg. I look down. The armor at my thigh is cracked slightly. Blood seeps slowly beneath it.
I must have landed wrong.
I grit my teeth and limp forward, pressing my hand against one of the glass walls. It feels solid. Unbreakable. I punch it once with fire behind my fist.
The flame splashes uselessly against it.
Not even a scratch.
"What is this?" I mutter.
The maze stretches endlessly. Every turn looks identical. Every corridor reflects my image back at me from impossible angles. Sometimes I think I see movement in the reflection that does not match my own.
I walk.
Left turn. Right turn. Straight.
Minutes pass.
Or hours.
The sky above remains blue, but it does not move. The sun does not shift.
I turn another corner.
And I am back where I started.
My breath quickens.
"No. No, that is not possible."
I change direction.
Faster this time.
Again.
Same spot.
The glass reflects my frustration perfectly. Sweat along my brow. Eyes wide.
I slide down against the wall, sitting on the cold surface.
My leg throbs.
For a moment, everything is quiet.
Then I hear it.
A low hum.
A familiar whisper curling at the edges of my mind.
Eclipse.
Its voice is not loud. It never is.
You are lost.
"Shut up," I mutter under my breath.
You cannot protect them if you cannot even escape a mirror.
"I said shut up."
The glass in front of me ripples slightly.
I freeze.
That was not my imagination.
The reflection shifts.
It is still me.
But the eyes are darker.
The expression colder.
The reflection smiles.
I am not smiling.
My heart stops for half a second.
The voice grows clearer.
Look closer.
Against my better judgment, I lean forward.
The surface of the glass feels thinner now. Like water barely holding shape.
My reflection raises its hand.
Slowly.
I do not move.
It presses its palm against the inside of the glass.
And I feel something press back against mine from the other side.