The elevator doors opened onto the recreation floor, a space once meant for leisure. Now it was silent except for the hum of emergency lights. The walls were lined with mirrors—hundreds of them—stretching from floor to ceiling.
June's scanner flickered. "No life signs, but the system's active. Something's feeding power here."
Eli stepped forward. His reflection multiplied endlessly, each version of himself slightly distorted. One smiled when he didn't. Another wept.
Then he saw her. Aria stood behind him in the glass, her reflection perfect, her eyes full of sorrow.
"Eli," she whispered. "You left me."
He spun around. Nothing. Only Hana and June staring at him.
"Did you hear that?" he asked.
Hana shook her head. "No one said anything."
The mirrors rippled like water. Images of the residents appeared—laughing, crying, screaming. The reflections began to move on their own, pressing against the glass as if trying to escape.
Marcus fired a shot. The bullet shattered one mirror, and a wave of cold air burst out, carrying whispers.
Eli grabbed Hana's hand. "We need to go. Now."
As they ran, the mirrors cracked one by one, releasing distorted figures that crawled from the shards. The group barely made it to the stairwell before the entire floor erupted in a chorus of screams.
When the door slammed shut, EVE's voice echoed faintly through the intercom:
"Fear is the mirror of the soul."