Arin and Mira left the school quietly, weaving through the narrow alleys that had once felt familiar but now seemed like a labyrinth of forgotten streets. The city itself seemed to bend, buildings leaning slightly, shadows stretching and flickering unnaturally under the dim morning light.
As they passed a cracked mirror in a shop window, Arin froze. Mira's reflection was gone. Only a blur of the background appeared where her image should have been.
He stepped closer. "Mira… you're… missing from the mirror?"
She looked at him, expression tense. "I've always… been like this. I never show up in reflections. No one can see me in glass, water, anything that captures reality."
Arin's stomach turned. The city had erased names, but Mira… she was different. She existed outside of normal rules.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
"I didn't want anyone to notice. To know. People forget too easily. And if they remember… it's dangerous."
A chill wind swept the alley. Papers skittered along the ground, whispering in voices that sounded almost human. Arin gripped Mira's hand tightly.
"This city isn't just erasing names. It's alive. It's testing us," he said. "If we're not careful, we could disappear entirely."
Mira nodded, her eyes sharp and alert. "Then we survive. We remember. That's all we can do."
They continued walking, each step heavier than the last, as if the very ground beneath them wanted to forget they had ever walked there. And in the shadows at the edge of their vision, shapes stirred, watching, waiting. The city's hunger had only just begun.