The chamber's air was staler now—thick with tension and the faint scent of iron and damp stone. Alex helped Mina settle into a corner while his eyes scanned their surroundings. They were no longer in the Collector's arena, but in a narrow hallway that stretched endlessly in both directions. The walls were made of blackened brick, but every so often a tile shimmered with a faint, oily sheen.
"This place changes every time," Alex muttered.
Mina leaned against the wall, pale and silent, her breaths shallow but steady. She hadn't said much since they left the trial. Whether it was fear, shock, or simply the mind's defense against the Horror System, he didn't know. But he couldn't push her—not yet.
A low hum vibrated underfoot.
Then the whispering began.
Soft at first, like wind slipping through cracks. But soon it sharpened, distinct voices curling out of the shadows. Not screams, not words—but disjointed syllables, broken sentences. One word stood out again and again.
"Remember."
Alex stood. "Do you hear that?"
Mina nodded weakly. "They're… everywhere."
He followed the sound, hand tracing the wall for guidance. The hallway narrowed the deeper he walked, until finally, he reached a rusted iron door with no handle. The whispers stopped the moment he touched it.
Then, it opened on its own.
Beyond it lay a circular room. Candles floated in midair, their flames motionless despite the lack of wind. The walls were made of mirrors—cracked, fogged, and stained—but none of them showed reflections.
Instead, they showed memories.
Alex stepped inside, heart pounding.
In one mirror, he saw himself as a child—crying in a hospital hallway, a crumpled vending machine snack in his hand. His mother's voice echoed faintly from behind the glass: "I'll only be gone a few minutes, Alex. Be strong."
In another, he stood at a funeral. His father's, if he recalled correctly. But the memory was wrong—distorted. In this version, no one cried. The coffin was empty. A shadow stood at the front instead, whispering his name.
Mina entered behind him, gasping softly.
"This… this is my apartment," she murmured, staring into one mirror. "But it's wrong. It's like someone painted over it with nightmare."
The whispers returned—louder now. Dozens of voices overlapping, chanting memories from the past. Regrets, fears, mistakes.
Alex stepped to the center of the room.
"Subject Alex: Trial of Identity commencing."
The room went black. When the light returned, Alex was alone. Mina was gone.
The mirrors now showed only him—versions of himself. In one, he was younger and thinner, eyes red from crying, hunched over a desk in a college dorm. In another, he was angry, shouting at his sister. In the last, he was completely unrecognizable—his skin pale, eyes hollow, mouth stitched shut.
"Who are you?" a voice boomed around him.
A figure stepped from the largest mirror. It looked like him, but taller, cleaner, more confident. Its smile was polished, eyes gleaming with cruelty.
"I'm who you could've been," the figure said. "Without fear. Without guilt. Without weakness."
Alex stared him down. "You're not real."
The double smirked. "Neither are you. Not anymore. You think this system hasn't changed you? You think your choices haven't chipped away at what you were? Every life you take, every lie you tell yourself—don't pretend you're still the scared kid clutching a flashlight."
It lunged at him without warning.
Alex dodged, barely, rolling across the cracked tiles. The doppelgänger moved fast—inhumanly so. It struck with practiced precision, each movement a mockery of Alex's own.
"I don't need to kill you," the double whispered. "You're already breaking. Every echo saved… every memory lost. Soon you'll be hollow. And I'll step in."
Alex's chest heaved. His body still ached from the last trial. But he wasn't alone anymore. Mina… Jessa… the people from his past. They anchored him.
He reached inside his coat and withdrew the jagged shard he'd taken from the mirror chamber two trials ago. It pulsed faintly, responding to his will.
"Even if I'm changing," Alex said, "I choose who I become."
He threw the shard, and it embedded itself into the double's chest. The thing staggered back, eyes wide as cracks spiderwebbed across its body.
"You've denied yourself," it hissed.
"No," Alex whispered. "I've accepted myself."
The mirror behind the double shattered, and the figure dissolved into smoke.
The chamber rippled. Reality warped.
When Alex blinked again, he was kneeling in the mirror room, Mina beside him. The mirrors were gone—replaced with walls of smooth obsidian.
"Trial complete. Identity reinforced. Trait unlocked: Unshaken."
His pulse steadied. The trait filled his senses with calm—a clarity he hadn't felt in days. The Horror System had tested his sense of self. And somehow, he'd passed.
Mina stirred. "Was that… real?"
Alex helped her to her feet. "Real enough."
"Why are we seeing our pasts like this?"
"Because it's not just about surviving anymore," Alex said. "It's about knowing what we're fighting to hold on to."
They walked back into the hallway. The iron door sealed shut behind them with a final clang.
In the distance, footsteps echoed.
They weren't alone anymore.