Jack stood at the edge of a reflection that was not his own.
The chamber around him shimmered with ghostlight, its walls a seamless obsidian, as if carved from the bones of night itself. Every surface reflected not just his image—but fragments of his soul. Past, future, the faces of those he'd loved and failed. Isaldora's eyes in the mirror beside Thalon's smile. Auren's last breath tangled with Lola's warning. Kael, screaming, vanishing into fire.
They surrounded him. Whispered to him.
And in the center of the room stood the mirror—tall, black-veined, framed in voidsilver.
It pulsed. Not with magic—but with memory.
Jack reached out—and his reflection didn't move.
It stared at him. And smiled.
"I was wondering when you'd stop running," it said.
Jack froze. "Who are you?"
The reflection tilted its head. "Isn't it obvious? I'm you. The part you buried. The part Auren tried to lock away. The part that remembers Thalon not as a curse—but as truth."
"I'm not Thalon," Jack said sharply.
"No," the reflection said, stepping through the mirror's surface like water. "You're what he became. You're the echo of a god who tried to cheat fate—and succeeded. Poor Auren thought he could split your soul from the storm."
The figure circled him, smirking.
"But you didn't split it, Jack. You merged. You opened the Hollow Tree. You shattered the Sigil. And in doing so, you awoke me."
Jack's pulse thundered. "I didn't mean to. I was trying to stop the Devourer."
"And you did," the shadow-Jack said. "For a time. But you let something worse in. Something older. You became the key that unlocked not just Thalon's prison—but the Dark Lord's design."
He gestured toward the walls.
A dozen reflections shifted. Jack saw himself in each—older, younger, twisted by war, scarred by choice. In one he held Lola's broken body. In another, Nyssa's blade was at his throat. In the last—Kael stood behind him, eyes black with flame.
Jack staggered back. "This isn't real."
"It's not prophecy," the reflection admitted. "It's possibility. A mirror doesn't invent. It shows what is."
"And what is this?" Jack asked. "Some test? Some punishment?"
"No." The shadow-Jack reached into his chest—and pulled out a flickering ember. "It's a choice."
The ember hovered between them. It pulsed with a rhythm Jack recognized.
Kael's heartbeat.
"What did you do to him?"
The reflection smiled grimly. "He's where he must be—below the valley, in the Gate of Chains. He's fighting. Dying. Holding back the fire you brought into this world."
"No," Jack whispered.
"Yes," the reflection said. "And he won't last much longer. Not without you. Not unless you embrace what you are."
Jack's fists clenched. "And what's that? A god? A monster?"
"A mirror," the figure said, voice deepening. "You're what's left when the world breaks and memory screams. You're the blade that never belonged to Auren, the son Thalon couldn't erase. You're the one who walks both light and shadow."
Jack looked again at the ember. The pulse was slowing.
"I can't control it," he muttered.
"You never could," the reflection said. "Control is a lie. But choice… choice is power."
The chamber rumbled.
Cracks split across the walls. The mirror behind the shadow-Jack began to shatter. Not in pieces—but in reverse. Like something on the other side was breaking in.
Jack turned.
And saw a figure.
Lola.
She stood at the far end of the hall, wreathed in silver flame, her void-touched eyes burning with fury.
"Jack," she said. "Get away from him."
The reflection turned, laughing. "Of course. The friend. The Watcher."
Lola raised her hand. Time bent around her fingers.
"Don't listen to him. He's not you. He's not even Thalon. He's what's left of the Whispering One."
The shadow-Jack's smile cracked. "You shouldn't be here."
"And yet," Lola said, stepping forward, "I always am when it matters."
She touched the mirror's frame.
And the reflection screamed.
Smoke poured from its body, streaming upward, curling like black blood. Its shape convulsed. Its face became a dozen faces—Jack's, Thalon's, Kael's, even Auren's—before dissolving entirely.
Lola looked at Jack.
"There's no time. Kael's falling. The Gate's about to break. If he does—if the chains fail—the Dark Lord won't need a vessel. He'll have a body."
Jack swallowed. "And if I go to him—if I merge the chains again—"
"You might not come back," Lola said. "But if you don't—none of us do."
Jack nodded slowly.
Then reached for the ember.
It sank into his chest.
And his eyes began to glow.
Not gold. Not shadow.
But something in between.
Lola stepped back. "The Hollow Mirror's collapsing. Once we're out—you'll feel it. The Gate. The chain. Kael's will."
"What do I do when I find him?" Jack asked.
Lola turned away, her expression unreadable. "You choose. Again."
The world fractured.
Light tore through the chamber.
And Jack fell.
Down.
Toward the war he could no longer avoid.