The Loom shifted around them, pulling them into another chamber. This one was filled with mirrors—hundreds, maybe thousands—each reflecting a different Ahri.
In one, she was a child still clutching Hyun-tae's hand.In another, she was Threadseer and executioner, blade dripping with dust.In another still, she was nothing but shadow, a hollow vessel with Jin's face stitched over hers.
She turned in horror. Every reflection contradicted the others, yet all were her.
Hyun-tae whispered, "Do you see now? You were never one thread. You were always a tapestry of choices."
The mirrors began to crack, one by one, but never shattered fully.
Jin stood behind her, voice heavy. "Which one is you?"
Ahri's hands shook. She wanted to break them all. To deny them. But one mirror held her gaze—a reflection where she stood alone, without Hyun-tae, without Jin, without even the Loom. Only herself.
She reached toward it. And the reflection reached back.
The glass trembled but did not break.
"You refuse me," the reflection said, its voice identical to hers. "And so I refuse to die."
The mirror held, unbroken.