LEVEL CLASSIFICATION: THRESHOLD-99
Designation: The Other Side Of The Mirror
Stability: Unstable (Inverted)
Cognitive Hazard: HIGH (Loss of Identity)
Physical Hazard: EXTREME (Replacement)
PRIMARY TESTIMONY
Extracted from: Report No. 777-MR
Date: [INVERTED]
Status: DUPLICATED / MISSING PIECES
It started like it always starts: with a reflection.
I was in front of the bathroom mirror, washing my face. The water was cold. I looked up, into my own eyes. And for a millisecond, I saw it.
He didn't blink.
I blinked again.
He kept staring at me, motionless, without moving a single muscle in his face.
— Who are you? — I whispered.
The reflection smiled.
I didn't.
That was when the glass became liquid. It didn't break, it didn't crack. It simply lost its solidity, like heated mercury. A hand reached out from inside. Cold, pale, identical to mine. It grabbed my wrist.
And I was pulled in.
It wasn't a journey. It was an inversion.
Suddenly, I was on the other side.
TECHNICAL NOTE 99: THE PHYSICS OF THE INVERSE
In this level, the laws are not just different, they are the exact opposite of what we know. Everything here is the "evil twin" of the original reality. Observed data:
- Law of Symmetry: Everything that exists in the real world has a copy here. The same house, the same street, the same people. But everything is inverted. Writing is backwards, the sun rises in the west, water burns and fire freezes.
- The Shadow Effect: If you stay here too long, your body starts to lose color. You turn black and white, then grayscale, until you become just a silhouette. You stop being "real" and start being a "reflection".
- Fatal Link: Everything that happens to you here affects your original self out there. If you cut your finger here, the original bleeds. But the main rule is: Surviving means killing. For you to be able to return and take your place, the "you" that was there has to disappear.
- The Others: This place is inhabited by alternate versions. Those who chose to stay, those who were expelled, those who never had a world to call their own. They are envious. Very envious.
A philosopher who crossed over wrote on the wall with his own blood:
"You think you are unique? You think your consciousness is the only one? This place is the depository of all the 'yous' that could have existed but didn't. They have been waiting for centuries. Waiting for their chance to finally touch the real world."
PRIMARY ENTITY: THE DUPLICATE / THE FORGER
Description: He is identical to you. In every detail. Every scar, every spot, every expression. The only difference is that his eyes are completely black, no white, no pupils, just a dark and shining void. He has no shadow, because he is the shadow that gained life.
Behavior: He is polite, calm, infuriatingly perfect. He acts as if you are the intruder and he is the rightful owner. He mimics your movements, but always a second later, or a second before, breaking the synchronization to drive you mad.
Objective: He wants your life. He wants to feel the real warm sun, he wants to eat food that has taste, he wants to be the "original". He will hunt you, not to kill you quickly, but to wear you down, so that you get tired of being yourself and give up.
PRIMARY TESTIMONY (CONTINUATION)
I fell to the ground. The floor was cold, like bathroom tiles, but it stretched for miles. I looked around.
It was my city. It was my world. But it was... wrong.
The colors were desaturated, like an old photo. The sky was pale yellow. The shadows were too long, too thick.
— Welcome to my home — said the voice behind me.
I turned around. There he was. Me.
He had his hands in his pockets, looking at me with fake pity.
— Who are you? — I asked, stepping back.
— Oh, what a difficult question — he laughed, and the sound of the laugh was just like mine, but it had a metallic echo. — I am you, idiot. I always have been. I am what you see when you close your eyes. I am what you repress.
— This isn't real! — I shouted.
— It is real to me. You flesh-and-blood people think only you exist. You think the mirror is just glass and silver. How foolish. The mirror is a door. And today, the door opened.
He started walking towards me. I started running.
I ran through the inverted streets. The people passing by weren't people. They were blurs, they were empty reflections. They looked at me, but they didn't see my eyes, they saw the void I was becoming.
I could feel my body getting lighter. My fingers no longer had fingerprints. I was turning into an image.
— YOU CAN'T RUN! — he shouted, and his voice came from everywhere, from every puddle of water, every window, every polished surface. — I AM EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK!
ANOMALOUS ARTIFACT: THE WRITING ON THE DOOR
Written with white chalk, designed so it can only be read correctly when viewed in a mirror:
DO NOT LOOK BACK.
DO NOT LOOK DOWN.
DO NOT LOOK AT THE REFLECTION.
HE ALREADY KNOWS YOUR NAME.
HE ALREADY KNOWS YOUR FACE.
YOU CAME HERE AS A VISITOR.
BUT YOU WILL STAY AS A WORK OF ART.
REMEMBER:
THE REAL WORLD NEEDS YOU WHOLE.
IF A PIECE IS MISSING HERE...
IT IS MISSING THERE TOO.
PHILOSOPHICAL FRAGMENT
"The fear of meeting our own other is the oldest fear that exists. Because deep down, we all suspect that we aren't that special. That our identity is just a mask we wear over a face we don't know. This level rips the mask off and shows that behind 'you' there is only an infinite mirror, reflecting infinite 'yous' that could have been."
PRIMARY TESTIMONY (CONTINUATION)
I hid inside a dark building.
The walls were covered in mirrors. Thousands of them.
And in every single one, he was there.
Smiling. Waiting.
— Why are you doing this? — I cried, leaning against the wall.
He stepped out of one of the mirrors, walking as if the air were water.
— Because I am tired of being fake. I am tired of just imitating. I want to feel pain. I want to feel love. I want to be afraid of dying. Things that you have and don't value.
— THIS IS MY LIFE! — I screamed.
— IT WAS your life — he corrected, softly. — Now it will be mine.
He advanced. I had no strength left to fight. He was stronger, because he had no limits. He was made of pure will.
Just as he was about to touch me, I remembered what I had read.
To return, you must prove you are the true one.
But how? He knew everything I knew. He had my memories. He was perfect.
Unless... perfection doesn't exist in real life.
— YOU ARE NOT ME! — I shouted with all my strength.
— OF COURSE I AM! — he roared, furious.
— NO! I HAVE FLAWS! I MAKE MISTAKES! I AM MESSY! YOU ARE JUST A COPY! AN IMAGE! IMAGES HAVE NO SOUL!
I closed my eyes.
And instead of trying to be like myself...
I tried to be different.
I thought of something he could never predict.
I thought of something illogical, irrational, human.
I decided to forgive him.
— You are not my enemy — I said, opening my arms. — You are a part of me that got lost.
He stopped. Confusion.
Copies expect resistance. They don't expect acceptance.
His system crashed.
— What...? — he touched his own face, starting to blur. — THIS IS NOT IN THE SCRIPT!
— THERE IS NO SCRIPT HERE! — I yelled back. — I AM THE ORIGINAL! AND THE ORIGINAL DOES WHATEVER HE WANTS!
PRIMARY TESTIMONY (CONCLUSION)
I grabbed his face.
Not to hit. To connect.
— GO BACK TO WHERE YOU BELONG! — I commanded.
There was a sound of glass shattering into millions of pieces.
The world spun, turned white, turned black, turned upside down.
I felt a strong pull in my chest.
And I fell.
THE RETURN
I hit my head on the bathroom sink.
I opened my eyes.
The mirror was normal. Clean. Cold.
I was there.
I was the reflection.
I was the original.
I raised my hand. The reflection raised it at the same time.
I blinked. He blinked.
I smiled. He smiled.
Perfect. Synchronized.
But...
When I turned my back to leave the bathroom,
I swear I saw, in the corner of my eye, in the reflection,
He stayed still.
And put his finger to his lips in a "silence" gesture.
He wasn't destroyed.
He was just blocked.
For now.
Now I know.
There is always someone watching from the inside out.
And he never, ever forgets a face.
CATALOGERS' FOOTNOTE
This level is a labyrinth of identities. The Entity represents the archetype of the Double, the Other Self.
It is powerful, but it has a fundamental weakness: it depends on the original to exist. It is a shadow, and shadows cannot exist without light.
Even so, the interaction left marks. The user now carries the weight of knowing they are not alone inside their own skin.
ADDENDUM
Look at the nearest mirror.
Take a deep breath.
Count to three.
Did he blink at the same time as you?
Are you sure?