Chapter 196 : Chapter 196

When Ryan stepped through that door, he had half expected his foot to plunge into some invisible abyss.

Instead, his boot landed on something solid.

It was hard. Cold. Even through the thick leather sole, that chill still seeped through, climbing up from the bottom of his foot.

He lowered his head.

Beneath his feet was a mirror.

He could see his boots. The mud caked on them had already dried, hardening into dark brown crusts. He could see his own face as well, worn with fatigue, shadows pooling beneath his eyes, his brows drawn together slightly.

He could see his own eyes.

And those eyes were looking back at him.

Ahead was a corridor, so narrow that only one person could pass through at a time. Mirrors lined both sides, and above him as well. Those mirrors stood one against another, stretching off into the distance, vanishing where he could no longer see.

Countless versions of himself stood there, standing in that corridor, each making the same movement, each looking back at him with the same gaze.

Some unknown light shone down into the passage.

There was no visible source. It was as if the mirrors themselves were producing it. The entire corridor was brilliantly illuminated, and the light rebounded endlessly from mirror to mirror, splintering into dazzling halos. Those halos fell across the floor, the walls, and his face, so bright that he had to narrow his eyes.

Ryan froze.

Lillian poked her head out from behind him.

Her face appeared in the mirror beside his shoulder. It was filled with confusion, bewilderment, and a trace of fear she could not hide. She saw the countless reflections of herself, all of them staring back at her with that same expression.

She froze as well.

Then Rex squeezed his way forward.

His movement was so large he nearly knocked Lillian off balance. She staggered a step and glared at him, but the insult died before it left her mouth. Rex did not even notice. His attention had already been seized by the mirrors, and his jaw hung open for a long while before he managed to close it.

“What... what is this place?”

His voice bounced back and forth through the mirrors, turning into countless overlapping echoes of What is this place, rippling farther and farther away, growing lighter and thinner until they finally vanished somewhere beyond sight.

Vera stood at the back.

She neither leaned forward nor spoke. She only stood there, looking at the backs of the three in front of her, looking at the countless versions of them in the mirrors. In the reflected light, her gray-green eyes looked especially clear, like two deep pools with no visible bottom. She raised a brow slightly, but said nothing.

Ryan did not answer Rex’s question.

He was counting the group ahead of them. Parker and his people. Vincent and Gray. Marcus and Olaf. Shiloya and Kallen. Then all those ordinary explorers who had gone in with them. More than ten people in total. And then Eleanor, who had gone in alone before everyone else.

This corridor was so narrow that people could only pass one at a time. Even if each person took only five or six seconds, a dozen people should have taken at least a minute or two.

Yet when he stood here now, the corridor ahead was empty. There was not even a shadow in sight.

Either there was something wrong with these mirrors, or they had come to the wrong place, or—

Ryan crouched down.

As his knees bent, he heard the faint sound of his own bones shifting. He pressed a hand to the mirror beneath his feet. Its surface was icy and smooth, like a sheet of frozen water. He stared at it for a moment, then rose again.

There was nothing on it.

No footprints. No streaks of mud. No scratches. Not even a single speck of dust.

They had only just climbed out of the swamp. The mud on their boots had dried, yes, but if they walked across such a smooth mirrored surface, it should still have left marks. At the very least, there should have been fine scratches.

But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Those people had come through here, and then vanished.

Or perhaps they had never come here at all.

Ryan’s frown deepened.

“It seems...”

Before he could finish the thought, Vera’s voice rose from behind him.

“We are not in the same space as they are.”

Ryan turned around.

Vera was looking at him, and in the countless reflections of the mirrors, her gray-green eyes shone like twin stars.

She smiled slightly.

“That was my thought as well,” Ryan said.

Lillian and Rex exchanged a glance. Lillian’s face had gone a little pale, while Rex scratched his head and said nothing.

Where had those people gone? Had they run into danger already?

They did not know.

All they knew was that they were standing here, in this mirrored corridor. In front of them, behind them, above them, below them, to either side—everywhere there was only themselves. The figures in the mirrors stared back at them, as if waiting for them to make a choice.

“Let’s move,” Ryan said.

He turned around, and countless Ryans turned around with him.

He drew the short knife from his waist.

The sound of steel leaving its sheath was quiet, but in the still corridor it ricocheted from mirror to mirror, multiplying into countless overlapping whispers of metal. The blade flashed with a cold gleam, and in the mirrors it looked as though countless knives had been drawn at once.

He turned sideways and eased himself into the narrow passage.

It was tight.

His shoulders nearly brushed the mirrors on either side. He could feel the chill of the mirrored surfaces even through his clothes. His breath touched the glass and left behind a thin layer of mist, within which his own face blurred and wavered.

He extended the knife point ahead of him, probing the darkness beyond.

The first thrust met nothing but air.

Empty.

He took a step forward.

His boots made no sound as they landed. The mirrored floor was too smooth.

The second probe met air as well.

He took another step.

On the third, the tip struck something.

Hard. Cold.

A mirror.

Time to turn.

Ryan shifted left, hugging the mirrored wall as he slipped into another corridor.

Behind him came Lillian’s footsteps. Soft, cautious, carrying that delicate rhythm of a startled cat picking its way forward. Then came Rex’s heavier tread, though even he was trying his best to quiet it. He moved carefully, studying every foothold before taking it, afraid of leaving marks on the mirror.

Vera walked last.

Her footsteps were nearly inaudible, like a shadow gliding after them.

The four of them moved through the maze of mirrors.

Ryan kept the short knife raised, probing ahead one thrust at a time. When it struck mirror, he turned. When it met air, he went straight. That short knife had become like a blind man’s cane, guiding them step by step through the labyrinth.

His other hand stayed behind his back the whole time, signaling to the others behind him.

Left.

Straight.

Right.

Watch your footing.

Lillian stared at those signals without blinking. Rex kept his eyes fixed on Lillian’s back, terrified of losing her. Vera followed behind them, watching the backs of the three ahead, the corners of her lips always carrying that faint, elusive curve.

In the mirrors, countless copies of them moved as well.

Countless Ryans with knives raised.

Countless Lillians with their faces tensed.

Countless Rexes scratching their heads.

Countless Veras smiling faintly.

The light kept reflecting back and forth among the mirrors, making the corridor—so narrow only one person could pass—glow with harsh brightness.

That light fell over their bodies, over their faces, into their eyes. It dazzled them, made their vision swim, blurred the distinction between front and back.

Ryan suddenly thought that if they kept walking like this forever, perhaps one day they would no longer be able to tell whether the one in the mirror was himself, and the one outside it was only a reflection.

He shook his head and forced the thought away.