‘Five Sols to enter,’ the sign read.

Renzo gave the carny two. “That’s all I have today,” he told him, before proceeding into the mirror maze.

Or tried to; the carny stood in his way. “Haven’t you heard about the rumors?”

So it wasn’t about the money. Good. “Rumors?”

The carny opened his mouth to speak, only to immediately shut it. Renzo turned to see what silenced him, and saw that the showman was walking by. That explained it. He knew from personal experience that it wasn’t a good idea to turn a customer away within an earshot of a boss, especially when the establishment suffered a lack of customers.

The showman stopped and turned their way, his gaze directed at the carny, probably warning him not to do what he already did.

Renzo took advantage of the carny’s distraction to pass him, finally entering the maze.

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Whatever the carny wanted to tell him, it would be something Renzo knew beforehand.

For the past several months, Winner’s Carnival suffered a dip in ticket sales, a strange occurrence in and of itself; the Carnival was the most successful of its kind in Sol Republic.

Searching further led Renzo to the rumors accompanying the Carnival’s travels across the Republic, all around the mirror maze it was famous for.

‘The mirrors laughed,’ one comment said.

‘They stole my wallet!’ said another.

‘I saw them eating a man!’ a third stressed.

The posts and comments accumulated, gaining heat whenever the Carnival happened to arrive to a city or town. At first, the Carnival’s showman tried to refute the claims, but as the rumors grew out of hand, he opted for radio silence.

It intrigued Renzo, both for the case and for the establishment itself. He never attended a Carnival, so even if he didn’t find anything of use, it wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

Walking through the long, dimly lit hallway leading to the mirror maze, Renzo wondered if the builder mistook the maze for a haunted house. Or maybe it was a conscious choice, something to build tension before walking into the maze.

Whatever it was, it annoyed him.

Finally, though, he arrived to the maze, and it was as dimly lit as the hallway leading to it. With this sort of lighting, it wouldn’t be a stretch for the mind to conjure up ghosts. No wonder the customers freaked out.

The mirrors reflected him from all sides, even the ceiling and the floor. It made for a disorienting experience. Still, they reflected him faithfully as much their material would allow. Sure, many of them contorted him to uncanny degrees, but the general feel of them remained the same.

Then he reached a particular mirror at the end of a turn, and stopped.

It was one of the regular mirrors, the ones Renzo theorized were placed to enhance the effect of the more bizarre ones. Palate cleansers of sorts.

This palate cleanser felt different.

Renzo was sure of it. It wasn’t because of the dim lights or the shapes he saw himself in that would surely visit him in a nightmare or two. There was an aura to this mirror, a Repel. It lent itself to a certain type of energy Renzo was acutely familiar with.

Gotcha.

When he exited the maze, the showman and the carny were arguing at its entrance. His appearance had the two stop to look at him, apprehensive.

He made a show of sighing in disappointment as he walked away, leaving a simple conclusion after his trail: “That was boring.”

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The Carnival closed for the night, marking his time to start. With his gear on, he walked into the maze once again, finding the lights off.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Expected, but Renzo still didn’t like it.

With a snap of his fingers, a circle lit up in gold under him, illuminating his closer surroundings, and following his form and pace.

It didn’t take long before he found another mirror emitting energy. Another regular one. Was it a preference or an attempt at avoiding suspicion?

The image staring back at him was authentic to reality—the tint of his goggles the same orange he dyed them in, and the shade of his hooded coat the same dark grey. But upon reaching out to touch the mirror’s surface, he caught it: a clear tell.

On his end, the crystalline circle etched into his gloves lit with a single golden light out of six, and on the mirror’s, it lit up with three.

He knocked on the mirror’s surface, and for a moment, the lights flickered from three to one.

“I can see you,” he informed whoever was watching from the mirror.

He didn’t get a response.

With a heavy sigh, Renzo brought out his gun.

On the mirror, ‘his’ image’s jaw dropped. Abruptly, it changed, and Renzo was staring back at his own neutral expression.

“What’s a Sixth Tier doing here?” a man’s voice sounded from everywhere, enhanced by its echoes. “You don’t think you have a shot at beating me, do you?”

“What’s a Fourth Tier doing running from a bullet?” Renzo returned, in the same mocking tone. It seemed to anger the Mirrorman; a mirror crashed in the distance, its shards thrown his way. They broke the mirror next to him.

“Was that a warning shot?” he asked, hoping the answer to be yes, because surely Mirrorman’s aim couldn’t be this abysmal.

Mirrorman roared, and more shards flew his way. None of them hit him.

“Wow…” Renzo let out, looking at the broken mirrors surrounding him, heart heavy with a disappointment rivaling that of a grandmother in severity.

He felt movement behind him, and stepped out of the way just in time to have Mirrorman crashing into one of his kin, diving into it.

Renzo watched the process with interest. Transport through mirrors was an interesting technique. With a competent user, it could turn formidable.

A shame Mirrorman didn’t utilize it to its full potential.

Knowing the difference now, Renzo quickly discerned which mirror Mirrorman resided in. Each time he entered one, Renzo shot its neighbor. At times, Mirrorman exited to attack him, but he wasn’t fast enough. It resulted in him returning to the mirrors, starting the cycle anew.

Unlike an endless cycle, though, this one was bound to end.

Mirrorman ran out of mirrors.

Renzo approached the single remaining mirror leisurely, raising his gun to it. It didn’t show him anymore, but instead showed Mirrorman, his eyes wide with fear.

“Your ability’s interesting,” Renzo began, finger on the trigger.

Mirrorman swallowed, focus zeroed in on his finger.

“Makes me think: if I were to shoot you, would you shatter like a mirror?”

Mirrorman exited his residence at that moment, landing on his front, his mouth stuck repeating a loud, “Don’t shoot!”

Renzo put his gun away underneath his coat, and Mirrorman’s rapid pleas ebbed to a stop.

“I want you to answer some questions,” Renzo said, and Mirrorman vigorously nodded. He pointed at the gloves Mirrorman wore, its steel color that belonged to no known faction. “Who gave you these gloves?”

“Don’t know his name. He… he came to me after a show and gave them to me, told me to wait for his orders. Didn’t hear a word from him since.”

They weren’t associates? Interesting. “Did you start out as a Fourth Tier then?”

“No, I was a Sixth Tier like you, but I progressed.” Despite his fear, pride shone bright in Mirrorman’s eyes. And he should be. It wasn’t every day a Sixth Tier managed to claw his way into Fourth.

It wasn’t allowed.

Whoever was behind this, they had the resources to make Energy Gloves out of the governments’ control. “Anything else you remember about him?”

“A title, I think? It was something weird, like…” He took a moment to think about it before perking up in recollection. “Tower! Yeah, that’s it. He said he’s a Tower!”

Only one organization had its highest-ranked members titled as Towers, and it was precisely the one Renzo pursued.

This trip to the Carnival was fruitful, after all.

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Perhaps Renzo should reconsider his opinion about the length of the mirror maze’s hallway. Without it, his showdown with Mirrorman would’ve had unwanted audience.

Halfway through the hallway and dragging a bound Mirrorman along, Renzo stopped upon seeing a distant light approaching them. A phone’s torch, held up by the carny.

Both Renzo and Mirrorman now in full view, Renzo expected the usual fanfare of shouts and calls for the Police. But a few moments passed, and the carny was still staring at them. No, not at them. Mirrorman. He was staring at Mirrorman.

Finally, the carny uttered a shocked, “Ernest?”

Mirrorman, Ernest, appeared a little sheepish at that.

“So it was you! You’re the one who’s been scaring customers away!” It said something about Ernest that the carny instantly blamed him instead of Renzo, the unknown hooded guy who had the other bound. “I was wondering where you went after Boss scolded you. You were here all along?”

“What a creep, right?” Renzo interjected, and it earned him a scathing look from Ernest. Taking full advantage of his uncharitable character, he pointed at the back. “Your friend here broke all the mirrors. I had to tie him up to stop him from doing something worse.”

The carny inhaled sharply. “What?”

Renzo didn’t care to linger afterwards, slipping away and leaving the two to settle accounts. Even a decent distance away, their voices carried to him.

“It wasn’t me! It was that lunatic with the gun!”

“Like I can trust you! You had us thinking mirrors were eating people!”

“Are you dumb? Mirrors can’t eat people!”

“Shut up!”