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Chapter 4 - Through the Looking Glass

When Luke opened his eyes, he was alone.

No trees. No forest. No Arthur.

Just… fog.

It stretched endlessly in all directions, thick and suffocating. The ground beneath him was like glass—smooth, black, and mirrored. When he looked down, he didn't see his reflection. He saw Arthur.

But not the Arthur he knew.

This one was grinning. Slowly tilting his head. Bleeding shadows from his eyes.

Luke stumbled back, his breath catching. "Arthur?!"

A voice answered, but not his friend's.

"He is here. But not whole. Not yet."

The fog swirled, parting to reveal corridors—walls formed from mirrors, countless and shifting. Every pane held something different: people screaming silently, shadows stretching toward unseen prey, children being dragged backward by invisible hands.

And then—Arthur.

The real one.

He stood at the center of a mirrored corridor, completely still, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Not confused. Not afraid. Just… analyzing.

Luke ran toward him. "Arthur!"

Arthur looked up. "You shouldn't be here."

"No crap!" Luke snapped, skidding to a halt. "You were about to get dragged into mirror hell and now we're in mirror hell. What do we do?!"

Arthur didn't answer right away. Instead, he placed his hand against one of the mirrored walls.

The reflection didn't match him.

It grinned.

And reached back.

Arthur pulled his hand away. "These mirrors aren't showing reflections. They're showing possibilities."

Luke blinked. "Possibilities of what?"

Arthur's gaze darkened. "Versions of us... that never made it out."

Suddenly, the ground shook.

All around them, the mirrored walls began to shatter, one by one—glass breaking outward as things crawled through. Shadows with human faces. Some wore their skin like a mask. Some had no eyes. Some looked just like Luke and Arthur, but smiling.

Too wide. Too hungry.

Arthur turned to Luke. "There's a door somewhere in here. One way out."

Luke gritted his teeth. "And if we don't find it?"

Arthur looked back at the closest creature, which was licking cracked fingers that bled ink.

"…Then we stay. Forever."

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