Kunal slid backward across the fractured floor and forced his eyes open.
No one.
The space behind him was empty.
But he knew what he had seen.
For a brief second, he had looked through someone else's eyes.
That was not my vision…
How could anyone move from the mansion to this place so quickly?
Who was it?
He pushed himself up, steadying his breath.
A strange sensation crawled across his skin.
It felt like something was watching him from between the shelves.
He turned sharply.
Nothing.
Silence.
Then—
The floor beneath him exploded.
A hand burst through the stone, seized his leg, and dragged him downward.
Kunal crashed hard onto the level below. Pain shot through his arm as he hit the ground, something in his wrist twisting violently.
He looked up.
The ceiling above him was shattered, fragments hanging like broken teeth.
He had fallen to the lower floor.
But this place was different.
Empty.
No shelves.
No objects.
No doors.
Just an enormous hollow chamber stretching into dimness.
He turned, searching for whatever had dragged him down.
There was nothing there.
Then—
The bell rang again.
The same heavy, metallic toll.
The entire floor trembled. Dust spiraled through the air. A cold wind brushed past him, unnatural and slow.
At the center of the chamber, the ground began to form a circle.
Stone sank inward, carving a perfect ring.
A gateway.
Something was coming.
Kunal's eyes widened.
Within seconds, a blur shot out from the circle—
And passed straight through him.
His body tensed.
He instinctively shut his eyes.
A heartbeat later, he opened them.
He was unharmed.
But the room had changed.
Mirrors.
Hundreds of them.
They lined the walls, stood freely across the floor, formed narrow corridors of reflection.
A mirror chamber.
Then the voice echoed again, hollow and distant:
"Your Day Two has begun."
Kunal rose slowly, pain flaring in his injured arm.
No visible enemy.
Then who was he supposed to survive against this time?
A sudden shove from behind sent him stumbling forward.
He spun around—
No one.
Another force yanked his leg from under him.
He fell again.
Invisible.
He moved cautiously now, eyes scanning every reflection.
Every mirror showed his image—
Until one did not.
In a reflection ahead, he saw it.
Something stepped out of a mirror behind him.
It was moving toward him.
Kunal tightened his grip on the sword and spun, slashing through the air.
Nothing.
The mirror behind him reflected only his own movement.
His heartbeat quickened.
"How do you fight something you can't see?"
He struck one of the mirrors directly.
Instead of shattering—
His blade passed through it.
As if it wasn't solid at all.
Frowning, he reached out to touch the surface.
The moment his fingers made contact—
A spirit emerged from within and grabbed him.
It pulled him inside the mirror.
Cold.
Weightless.
And then—
He was thrown out from another mirror across the chamber.
He hit the ground hard, sliding.
Understanding dawned on him.
"They're using the mirrors…"
The spirits were traveling through reflections.
Attacking from unseen angles.
One by one, possessed bodies began stepping out from the mirrors.
Distorted versions of humans.
Lifeless eyes.
Jerking movements.
Kunal charged.
He cut through them, blade flashing, steel slicing through hollow flesh.
Bodies fell.
But the mirrors allowed the spirits to reappear anywhere.
A spirit lunged and tore the sword from his hand—
Dragging it into a mirror.
"No!"
Kunal rushed toward it, trying to dive inside—
But something seized him from behind and slammed him into the floor.
A possessed body swung at his head.
He flipped backward just in time, boots scraping against stone.
They were coming all at once now.
From every direction.
He darted into a side mirror—
Only to emerge from another directly behind the swarm.
He struck.
His fist collided with a possessed body's skull.
The impact was devastating.
The shockwave knocked down multiple figures behind it.
For a second, space cleared.
But the spirits kept cutting him from unseen angles.
Claws raked across his arm.
Blood began dripping from his hand.
His breathing grew heavier.
Another spirit lifted him by the throat and pinned him against the wall.
More and more figures emerged.
Their numbers multiplied.
They advanced slowly.
He hadn't drunk water for hours.
Dizziness crept in.
The chamber spun.
His vision dimmed.
Sound faded.
Through the blur—
Through the suffocating dark—
He saw one final image.
Someone was standing in front of him.
Holding his sword.
Right in front of him.
And this time—
It wasn't invisible...
© Kunal Singh
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