Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Five: Reunited
----------------------------------------
Jason suddenly realized he was still in his pajamas, a reminder of how abruptly he’d been pulled into the mirror. They were surprisingly elegant, deep shades of midnight blue with stars that shimmered and shifted, forming glowing constellations across the fabric. With a quick thought, he activated his inventory, swapping the pajamas for the outfit Twig had custom-made for him—sleek, black tactical combat gear adorned with subtle, intricate details. A cape draped behind him, etched with a white raven in mid-flight, its wings spread wide and fierce, completing the look. It was everything he needed—functional, imposing, and undeniably awesome.
A wave of relief washed over him as he realized he still had access to his inventory and gear.
“Where are we?” Jason asked, glancing around. The place felt like a forest, but not quite—a twisted imitation of one. The trees were gnarled, their bark cracked and veined with a faint luminescence.
Alex shrugged, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. “I call it Wonderland. But, more properly, it’s known as the In Between. A place that doesn’t fit anywhere else—a pocket between realms.” He paused, taking in Jason’s bewildered face with a flicker of something between sadness and affection. “Years, brother. It’s been years. You have no idea.”
Jason blinked, his head throbbing as the landscape around him twisted in impossible ways—trees grew sideways, their branches clawing at nothing, the ground seemed both soft as moss and solid as stone. “Months, more like,” he muttered.
“For you, yeah. In Terra Mythica, it’s been months. On Earth, it’s been days or weeks. But here, for me... it’s been years.” Alex’s eyes clouded for a second before he turned his gaze back to Jason, his smirk now a little thinner, more worn.
“How did you…” Jason struggled for words, his throat tightening. “How did you survive here?”
Alex’s smile came, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Come on. We have a lot to discuss, and less time to discuss it in.” He motioned for Jason to follow. “We need to keep moving. It doesn’t like visitors.”
Jason’s brow furrowed, unease prickling up his spine. “Who’s ‘it’?”
Alex’s gaze flickered sideways, his eyes catching a movement that Jason could barely comprehend—a shadow slipping between trees that weren’t quite trees. He didn’t answer, just pressed forward, feet navigating a spiraling path that led deeper, downwards, into what seemed like an endless abyss.
The trees leaned closer, curious, their branches grazing Jason’s shoulders, small touches that crawled up his nerves like ants. He stumbled, the ground beneath him shifting, slipping away, while Alex moved forward with an uncanny confidence, his steps sure and silent.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“What happened to you, Alex?” Jason finally managed to say, his voice a low rasp.
Alex paused, staring at something in the distance Jason couldn’t see. “I learned how to make this place my own,” he murmured. “You can’t just get along here. You have to tame it. You have to carve out a part of it as yours.” He gestured for Jason to keep up. “Come.”
They walked through landscapes that changed with each breath—dense, dark forests gave way to sprawling deserts, and those shifted into still, ice-covered lakes. Each transition was abrupt, seamless, like passing through invisible doors to worlds that barely connected—some terrains lasted only moments, as fleeting as the last lights of dusk, while others stretched on, holding their form longer, resisting the change.
The ground grew cold beneath Jason’s feet as they crossed the ice. The air crackled with the scent of frost and something ancient, something Jason couldn’t name but could feel in his bones.
“Reality doesn’t work here like it does elsewhere,” Alex said, his voice carrying in the chill air. “I’ve been here for decades—maybe centuries. I stopped keeping track.”
Jason’s heart clenched. He had never imagined that his brother—the one who used to build forts with him out of blankets and sneak him extra dessert that they couldn’t really afford—had been fighting alone for so long.
“I’ve been keeping tabs on you,” Alex said, breaking the silence.
Jason glanced at him, startled. “Oh?”
“Mirrors are strange things. Reality is built on what we know, what we trust to be solid and unyielding. But mirrors? They twist that certainty, bending it just enough to show us the cracks. They’re distortions, thin veils where truth is weaker. I thought you almost noticed me once or twice, but your were just checking yourself out.”
A grin cracked across Jason’s face, despite the absurdity of it all. “That doesn’t sound like me.”
Alex gave a short laugh. “I tried to reach out a decade or two ago, but I wasn’t strong enough yet. Not until now. Your new understandings helped too.”
“You mean my Affinity? Truth?”
“Yeah, that’s what they call it in Mythica. Your Affinity. Makes it sound like it’s something separate from you, something outside yourself. When really, it’s just you unlocking more of your… youness.”
They fell into silence, the kind that was filled with too much to say and too little way to say it. The world shifted, morphing into a rugged cliffscape, lush with green moss and wild grasses clinging to the rock. The scent of salt and the distant roar of the ocean filled the air. A clearing unfurled before them, its edges jagged and raw, and at its center loomed a structure—monstrous and awe-inspiring. It was a twisted blend of stone and bone, as if it had been wrenched from the nightmares of giants and molded into the shape of a fortress. It loomed over them, dark power radiating from its walls, tugging at something deep inside Jason. It clung to the edge of the bluffs like an ancient beast, carved with impossible angles and intricate runes that seemed to pulse with a deep, thrumming energy.
“This is my place,” Alex said, his voice carrying a grim pride. “One of the few places where the rules make sense—where I can breathe without feeling the world pressing in on me.”