The Mirror dimmed—
but the silence it left behind wasn't peace.
It was warning.
It was the breath the multiverse takes
before something arrives.
Kael felt it first.
A pressure.
Thin.
Cold.
Not inside the room—
but pressing against it.
The Architect's head snapped upward.
"No…
No, no, NO—
it found us this fast!?"
The Echo's entire form flickered violently.
"Kael—brace yourself."
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"What found us?"
They didn't answer.
The room answered for them.
A single ripple spread across the far wall—
not tearing,
not breaking…
…but reflecting.
Like someone pressed a mirror against reality
and then pushed their way through.
Kael instinctively stepped forward.
The Architect grabbed him.
"DON'T.
If it recognizes you, the Second Seal collapses."
Kael's jaw tightened.
"Then what is it?"
The ripple solidified.
Then unfolded.
A figure stepped out.
Not human.
Not divine.
Not alive.
It was shaped like a person—
same height as Kael,
same posture,
same stance—
but made entirely of shifting silver fractures.
Every movement split its body into shards
that instantly realigned
like a puzzle refusing to break.
Its face was a blank mask of liquid metal.
Two holes where eyes should be.
Nothing inside.
The Echo whispered in horror.
"A… Reflection."
Kael's blood froze.
"A reflection of what?"
The Echo trembled.
"Of you.
Of your function.
Of the part of you that obeyed."
The Architect stepped backward, voice cracking.
"The Origin has sent its FIRST Echo.
A fragment built from your former obedience.
If it touches you—
it will overwrite you."
Kael's fists tightened.
"So it's a replacement."
"No," the Architect whispered.
"It's a retriever."
"It's here to drag you back."
The Reflection tilted its head.
The metal-mask face twitched into a smile
that wasn't a smile at all—
just a curve carved by something
that didn't understand emotions.
It raised one arm—
and Kael felt everything inside him recoil.
Because the arm didn't move.
Reality moved around it.
The chamber warped like glass bending under heat.
The Architect shouted:
"Kael! DO NOT UNLEASH ANY SYLLABLES!
It's baiting your name!"
But Kael had already stepped forward.
The Reflection imitated him instantly.
Perfectly.
Every step Kael took,
it took the same step.
Every breath,
it mirrored.
Every twitch of his fingers,
it copied.
Kael's voice dropped to a whisper.
"…It's copying me."
The Echo nodded sharply.
"Yes. It adapts to your motion."
Kael locked eyes with the faceless mask.
"And if I attack?"
The Echo went still.
"…It evolves."
Kael smirked coldly.
"Good."
The Architect nearly screamed:
"KAEL, NO—"
But it was already too late.
Kael vanished.
He didn't move—
he disappeared,
shunting through a gap in the chamber
that wasn't supposed to exist.
A heartbeat later he reappeared behind the Reflection,
fist already crackling with void-light—
SLAM—
Except his fist stopped mid-air.
Frozen.
Because the Reflection had mirrored him perfectly—
and was holding his fist back
with equal force.
Kael's eyes widened.
"…It copied my displacement?"
The Reflection leaned forward,
mask inches from his face.
Its voice was a metallic distortion
of Kael's own.
"Return."
Kael snarled.
"No."
The Reflection tilted its head.
"Not request.
Directive."
Before Kael could respond—
the Reflection punched him.
No technique.
No build-up.
Just a single, impossible blow.
Kael crashed across the chamber
and hit the far wall hard enough
to crack the obsidian platform beneath his feet.
The Echo shouted.
The Architect screamed.
The Reflection stepped forward—
one footfall at a time—
its body fracturing and mending
with each movement.
Kael wiped blood from his mouth.
"You hit harder than I expected."
The Reflection paused.
"Not hard.
Precise.
Calibrating to your durability."
Kael's expression darkened.
"So the harder I am to kill—"
The Reflection finished:
"The more efficient I become."
Kael stood straight.
Cold.
Focused.
Dangerous.
"…Then let's see how efficient you can get."
The chamber trembled.
The Architect shouted:
"KAEL—STOP—YOU CAN'T OUTPUNCH AN ADAPTIVE MIRROR—"
But Kael wasn't smirking.
Wasn't reckless.
He looked at the Echo.
"Can it copy something I haven't done yet?"
The Echo froze.
"…What do you mean?"
Kael raised his hand—
and the Forgotten Star pulsed.
A new darkness seeped from his palm.
Not void.
Not shadow.
Not silence.
A memory of a power he erased.
NOT his name.
NOT a syllable.
Just the ghost of what came before it.
The Reflection staggered.
It couldn't copy it.
It didn't know how.
Kael whispered:
"You copy me."
He clenched his fist.
"But you can't copy what I've forgotten."
The Reflection tilted its head,
processing.
Kael moved.
Fast.
Not with strength.
Not with speed.
With absence.
He struck the Reflection's chest.
And for the first time—
the metal fractured
and did not instantly reform.
A hole burned through its torso—
shaped like a missing memory.
The Reflection looked down at the wound.
And whispered—
this time with something like fear:
"Unknown.
Unregistered.
Unreplicable."
Kael stepped forward.
"Yeah."
He cracked his knuckles.
"That's the point."
---