“This place looks relatively tamer compared to the path of chains,” Slim remarked, staring at his masked reflection in the surrounding mirrors. The necromancer’s luxurious suit contrasted with the flesh behind it, rosy and full of vigor, unlike the usual blackened bones. His black hair swayed side-to-side despite the absence of wind, while a plain white mask obscured his face.
Slim wasn’t the only one who had changed. Zara now resembled a lizardman in a mask, and Orion had taken on the appearance of an orc. Fi-Fi maintained its humanoid form, adorned with the same plain mask as the others. Ember and Scott, standing close to each other, retained their usual looks but also wore plain masks.
The newer members of the party were shrouded in long, dark cloaks that obscured their bodies. Unlike the hound extermination crew, they wore half masks that covered only their eyes and noses. Crimson hair like burning lava cascaded over their shoulders, with piercing azure eyes behind their masks. Golden crucifixes hung around their necks, and the tips of elongated fangs peeked from behind plump, cherry lips.
“Orion, will you be able to find the hidden path?” Zara asked mentally.
The mage giggled softly. “It shouldn’t be too hard for my clones. It might take a while, but I’ll definitely find it,” he replied.
“So, do we just wait?” Slim asked, cautiously observing the strange room. Reflections surrounded them, with no obvious path in or out.
“That would be the most sensible option,” Orion said. “We have no idea what’s going to happen, so it’s best we let my clones do all the work.”
“No need,” Scott suddenly said, his voice echoing softly in the room.
All heads turned toward the voidweaver. “Do you see anything?” Zara and Slim asked simultaneously. They knew better than anyone about Scott’s visual prowess.
Scott nodded gently. “This place might look simpler than the path of chains, but it is definitely more brutal.”
Orion’s ears perked up as he inched closer to Scott. “What do you see?” he asked, barely able to contain his curiosity.
Scott pointed at one of his reflections, and naturally, they all pointed back at him. “Those aren’t reflections,” he declared, his voice echoing through the room.
Everyone turned their attention to the voidweaver, especially the vampires. Their eyes glowed with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
“Each reflection exists in a world of its own,” Scott continued, his tone measured but urgent. “They’re waiting for us to wander into them. I’m not sure what their endgame is yet, but they might be trying to replace us.”
A vampire, her voice thick with a unique Romanian accent, asked, “How do you know this?” Her gaze was piercing, her curiosity demanding answers.
“I can see it,” Scott replied simply, his eyes unwavering.
The vampire and her companions exchanged skeptical glances; their pale blue eyes filled with doubt. They turned to Orion, who chuckled and gave them a reassuring thumbs up.
Their features relaxed slightly. The vampire who had spoken earlier asked, “So, what do we have to do?”
Scott raised a hand to point forward but paused, a hint of surprise flickering in his ominous eyes. The others mirrored his expression; the reflections no longer mimicked their actions. Instead, they stared back, intently, menacingly.
The vampires moved into a triangular formation, their movements synchronized and wary. The hound extermination crew readied themselves, every muscle taut with anticipation. Scott remained still; his eyes fixed on the reflections.
Sudden, subtle bangs echoed through the room as the reflections pounded on the glass barrier. Their forms began to morph, shifting into hideous beasts of nightmarish origins. The bangs grew louder, the creatures more grotesque with each thud.
“They can’t get out,” Scott said, his voice slicing through the cacophony. “Stay where you are; they can’t reach you.”
The vampires, usually composed, began to panic, their fear palpable. In contrast, the hound extermination crew, hardened by countless battles and cursed with the imprint of madness, stared at the creatures with cold indifference.
“Orion, prepare a clone,” Scott commanded mentally, his gaze never leaving the monstrosities. “There’s something I want to confirm.”
Without a word, Orion retrieved a desiccated finger from his inventory and tossed it a few feet away. The finger writhed upon hitting the floor, expanding until it was the size of a human. A hand tore through the skin, and a clone, covered in fluids, emerged with a smile.
The distorted reflections stirred, mirroring the scene. “Have it approach any mirror. It doesn’t matter which one,” Scott instructed mentally.
Orion giggled, relaying the message to his clone. The clone chuckled, its gaze wandering before settling on a reflection in the leftmost corner. It approached the mirror, hand outstretched. The reflection mimicked its actions.
The clone’s hand pierced the glassy barrier, causing ripples to course through the surface like water. It turned toward Orion, its smile widening. “It’s amazing,” it said before being pulled into the mirror dimension.
A reflection replaced the clone, examining its new form with eerie excitement in its dark eyes. It raised its head toward the champions, a cruel smile spreading across its lips.
The champions alternated their gazes between the smiling variant and the blurred-out mirror behind it. “What’s your clone experiencing now?” Scott asked mentally.
Orion, barely containing his excitement, replied, “It’s incredible. It’s a whole new world I never imagined.”
Scott nodded. “You know what to do next.”
Orion sighed, shaking his head ruefully. He turned toward the mirror variant, which took a step forward, its form distorting into a hideous creature. On its third step, the mirror behind it cracked, and thousands of chains shot out, wrapping around the stunned variant.
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“How did you kill it?” it managed to say, its eerie voice teeming with surprise and confusion. The chains forcefully yanked it back into the mirror dimension, the cracks vanishing as clarity returned.
“What was that?” Slim asked, his voice mirroring the shock and curiosity of the gathered champions.
“A little experiment,” Orion replied with a mischievous giggle. “You should all avoid that mirror dimension. Escaping it won’t be easy.”
Slim opened his mouth to ask another question, but Scott's voice cut through the air. “I’ve found the best path for us, but we’ll need to move in single file,” Scott instructed, his tone growing serious. “No matter what you see, hear, or feel, do not respond. If you’re lost in the mirror domain, no one will save you.”
The champions exchanged solemn glances, determination hardening in their eyes. Zara stepped forward, her voice steady. “What do you need us to do?”
Scott swiftly organized the group into a single file, each placing their hands on the shoulders of the person in front. Scott led at the front while Orion took the rear; Ember, Zara, Slim, Fi-Fi, and the vampires formed the line between them.
“Orion, you can start now,” Scott communicated mentally, beginning to move forward in slow, deliberate steps. Echoes of distinct thumping and unsettling giggles reverberated from behind, but no one dared to turn, remembering Scott's warning.
In silence, the group approached a corner of the room. Reflections in the mirrors mimicked their movements, but their eyes remained fixed on the champions, especially Scott.
Scott led them to an unremarkable section of the mirror domain. His steps were slow, purposeful. This time, the reflections didn’t mimic them. Instead, they glared defiantly, as if warning them to stay away. Subtle roars began to fill the room, and the variants trapped in the mirror dimension stirred.
“You’re all fools! Can’t you see he’s leading you to your doom?” a voice, eerily similar to Orion’s, rang out.
“How come none of you considered that only one of you is real?” a voice resembling Zara’s questioned. “Are you really that gullible?”
Laughter echoed within the chamber, followed by a childlike voice. “Fi-Fi is amazed you trust that thing. It’s not the real—” The voice cut off abruptly.
“Slim, that’s not the real Scott!” Zara’s frantic voice pierced the chamber. “We’re trapped in an illusion, and we can’t find Scott. You need to shatter the mirror to get us out!”
Scott continued forward, unfazed by the voices. Ember mirrored his indifference, but Slim, Zara, and even Fi-Fi had their curiosity piqued. Despite the growing tension, they pressed on, ignoring the deceptive voices.
“Ivona, what are you doing? Those creatures are trying to deceive you!”
The vampires halted abruptly. The one directly behind Orion began to turn, but a clone stepped forward. At that same moment, a soul-crunching chomp echoed through the air. Fresh blood sprayed onto the motionless procession.
Ivona, the vampire who had attempted to turn earlier, remained perfectly still, sensing an ominous presence breathing down her neck.
“Ivona, why are you doing this? I came all this way, and you won’t even look me in the eye. Is that how we raised you?”
Ivona took deep breaths, the warmth of the fresh blood sliding down her face. She subconsciously licked her blood-smeared lips, her pupils widening and turning crimson.
“I apologize on behalf of me and my sisters. Thank you for saving us. We’re okay now. Let’s continue,” she declared mentally, her words conveyed to Orion.
Only her sisters knew how torn she was. The last time someone had called her by that name was long before she became a vampire.
The procession moved forward, and the voices lingered, more enticing than ever, seemingly born from the deepest memories of each champion.
Despite the room being relatively small, the champions had been walking for more than ten minutes, still far from any mirror. Among them, only Scott had yet to be mimicked or enticed, though he was accused of leading the group astray.
The slow march continued for another ten minutes, the voices growing more desperate. Orion giggled at intervals, his amusement or mockery of the perfectly mimicked voices remained uncertain.
Another ten minutes passed before the voices abruptly vanished, leaving an eerie silence in the room. The silence stretched for a minute, then an ominous wave of energy enveloped the space. A cacophony of sounds, akin to breaking glass, echoed as the marbled flooring disappeared, replaced by a crystal-clear mirror. All adjoining mirrors had merged into one massive mirror.
Still, Scott led the group in silence, his gaze fixed on what lay ahead.
"How pitiful..." A voice, dripping with malice and distinctly different from any of the champions, echoed through the chamber. "You were destined for greatness yet look at you now—mediocre. Doesn't your weakness disgust you?"
Scott's steps faltered, forcing the other champions to halt abruptly.
"Are you okay?" Ember's voice echoed in his mind, her grip tightening on his shoulder. Scott remained silent; his eyes distant.
Zara and Slim called out to him on the party channel, but only silence greeted their words.
The sinister voice continued; its tone almost intimate. "Why should they treat you like that? It was never your fault. They got lucky inheriting those powers, yet they treated you as if you were beneath them. After all you've been through, all you've sacrificed, they still couldn't see you as their equal. What's wrong with feeling a little envy? Aren't you human too? Should power be their sole right while you depend on them?"
A cold shiver ran down Scott's spine as the voice pierced through the silence again. "My disciple, my heart aches seeing you in this state. Won't you come to me? Across the eons, it has always been you. Others might wield my powers temporarily, but only you do I desire. My apostle, my disciple, my child, my heart, my love, won't you come to me?"
The room shook violently, cracks spreading like spiderwebs across the walls. The champions, except for Scott and Orion, began to panic. They stood rigid, but their eyes darted around, catching glimpses of odd blurs flashing past them.
"Won't you come to me?" The voice was softer now, almost tender. "While the world hated you, I loved you. While they mocked you, I comforted you. While they called you useless, I gave you power. Won't you come to me? Why do you make me hurt this much?"
A mournful scream echoed through the chamber, the sound of glass shattering punctuating the air. An immense being, larger than the world itself, struggled to break free from the cracks. A colossal lilac fist snaked towards Scott's position.
The champions stood paralyzed, unable to move or speak, their very essence consumed by primal fear.
Ember’s lips trembled uncontrollably; fear etched on her face. As a long-time resident of the Tower of Champions and coming from one of its most established races, she had seen, heard, and witnessed countless things. There weren’t many mysteries left for her, and the things she was clueless about exceeded the realm of mortals. The creature fell into that category.
Without warning, Scott stepped forward. Ember felt a chill course down her spine. An unfamiliar wave gripped her being, seemingly nullifying the paralytic effects. The rest of the hound extermination crew and the vampires experienced a similar sensation. Despite the heaviness in their legs, they moved forward at a steady pace.
“Why do you reject me? Can’t you see how much I love you?” The voice screamed in pain, a massive fist pounding on the cracks. “Don’t you know how much I love you? I’m jealous. Who is it that has stirred your heart away from me? I won’t forgive them. I won’t forgive them,” it howled, hammering at the cracks with even more fury.
Scott, however, continued walking without responding. A moment later, the voidweaver paused in his tracks, and so did the other champions. A figure manifested suddenly a few feet away, and a system message appeared:
You have found the Tower Trader!
The Tower Trader whistled softly as he approached in quick strides. “I sensed something was off here, and it seems like my hunch was right,” he said, stopping a few feet away from Scott. The mysterious peddler turned toward the cracked mirrors, chuckling. “Ah, a remnant of the old order. It’s nice to see you again, Sibiru, but aren’t you a little too old to be courting younglings?”