Chapter 24: The Watcher's Warning
The chamber trembled as the doppelgänger stepped closer, her boots silent against the stone. Isabelle held her ground, heart pounding, breath shallow.
"I've seen you before," she said, voice low. "In visions. In dreams. I thought you were me."
"I am," the Watcher answered. Her voice was like breaking glass—familiar and foreign, sharp and cold. "But not the you standing here. I'm the one who didn't hesitate. The one who made the hard choice."
Behind her, the mirrors shifted again. This time, the reflections moved independently—some smiled, some screamed, one held a child before a burning cathedral.
Rowan positioned himself between Isabelle and the Watcher, weapon drawn. "Back off."
The Watcher didn't flinch. "There are rules, Shatterer. And one of them is this: the mirror doesn't break clean. Every time you try to escape, it splinters deeper. Do you know what happens when a soul is fractured too many times?"
"I stop reincarnating?" Isabelle guessed, defiant.
The Watcher stepped forward. "No. You begin to forget which life was yours."
A silence fell. Rowan's grip on his rifle tightened. Isabelle stared at the blade and codex on the pedestal, then back at the hooded figure bearing her face. "If that's true, why warn me?"
"Because I remember being you," the Watcher said. "I remember the fire, the pain, the longing to be free. I remember trying to defy the system. But I became part of it instead. I'm giving you a chance to stop before you become me."
The shadows around the room deepened. The air grew thick, heavy with dread.
Suddenly, the mirrors cracked. Not all at once, but a single, jagged fracture running through each reflection. The Watcher vanished, but her whisper echoed across the stone walls:
"The next step will cost you more than blood."
Rowan rushed to Isabelle's side. "Are you alright?"
She nodded slowly, though her knees felt weak. "She was right. I'm already forgetting things. I dream about lives that never happened. Memories that don't belong to me."
He touched her arm gently. "You don't have to do this alone."
She turned to the codex again. Her hands no longer trembled.
"I know. That's why I'm going to finish what she couldn't. But we need allies. Others like me. Others who remember."
"More Shatterers?" he asked.
"No," Isabelle said. "The broken ones. The rebels. The ones who slipped through the cracks."