The memories hit Kiran like shrapnel, sharp and unbidden, cutting through the thin veil of the present. The air in his apartment felt suffocating, replaced by the humid, metallic tang of the Mirror Maze. It was one of the Eclipse Gauntlet's most insidious tests, a psychological gauntlet designed not just to awaken latent powers, but to shatter minds, to mold them into pliable tools. Kiran, barely a pre-teen, had been thrust into a disorienting, shifting labyrinth of reflective surfaces, each gleaming panel a portal to his own terror. But these weren't ordinary mirrors. His own reflection would coalesce, step out, and attack—not just physically, but psychologically, weaponizing his deepest fears, his failures, his regrets.
His clone in the maze was a twisted, mocking version of himself, its eyes devoid of the cold, strategic calculation that defined him even then. It moved with his stutter-step speed, but without the crippling physical cost, a cruel mockery of his burgeoning power. You couldn't save them, could you, Subject 07? All that power, and they still screamed. Visions flashed before him, conjured by the malevolent double: the girl flickering into nothingness, the boy turning to dust, the agonizing faces of subjects he'd seen vanish into the black sand. The clone conjured paradoxes, tearing at his perception of time, threatening to unravel his very mind, to drive him mad within the illusory confines of the maze.
"Kiran! Look out!"
The voice was Liam's, sharp and urgent, cutting through the cacophony of his own tormented thoughts. Subject 12. Liam. He was there, a solid presence in the shifting, nightmarish landscape. Liam's power was a subtle, almost invisible empathic shielding, a resonance field that could absorb or redirect chaotic energy. During the Gauntlet, he'd often found himself protecting the younger, more unstable subjects, a quiet guardian amongst the horror. As Kiran grappled with his own distorted reflection, trying to find an opening, Liam, seeing the clone about to deliver a finishing blow, hurled himself forward. He activated his ability, a shimmering, almost imperceptible wave of energy rippling from his body. It was a decoy, a desperate, selfless act to draw the clone's attention. The clone, its distorted features contorted in a sneer, shifted its focus, seeing an easier, more vulnerable target.
Liam didn't scream. He simply focused, a fierce, unwavering determination in his eyes as the clone's attack, a surge of wild, raw magical energy, slammed into him. Liam's shielding flared, absorbing the initial impact, holding strong for a desperate heartbeat, but it was too much. His body began to distort, a wave of black sand consuming him from his feet upwards, mirroring the destructive power of the facility's core. He didn't fight it. His last glance, filled with a defiant, protecting love, was for Kiran. Then, Liam was gone, absorbed entirely, leaving only a small, glistening pile of the ominous black grit in his place. Kiran's agonizing escape from the maze followed, fueled by a new, searing hatred and a burning, unbearable guilt. He carried Liam's sacrifice, a constant, heavy weight, in the cold, strategic core of his being, a debt that could never truly be repaid. And now, years later, the sand was back. And so, it seemed, was the enemy that had taken Liam from him.