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Brief
He says he’s here to help you.
But what if he’s wrong?
Worse… what if he’s not?
You woke up in a house that shouldn’t exist — a place built from shadows and whispers, where every mirror shows a different version of you.
There are two voices in the dark. One calls himself your guide. The other? Just a voice. A presence. A pulse under the floorboards.
They don’t agree.
They never do.
Lysandra (or is that even her name?) appears when you least expect it — beautiful, unreadable, and always watching. She offers choices. Not answers. And every choice will cost you something.
You’ll have to decide who to trust. But trust wrong, and you might not survive.
Or worse… you might wake up all over again.
He says he’s here to help you. But what if he’s wrong? Worse… what if he’s not?
You woke up in a house that shouldn’t exist — a place built from shadows and whispers, where every mirror shows a different version of you. There are two voices in the dark. One calls himself your guide. The other? Just a voice. A presence. A pulse under the floorboards. They don’t agree. They never do.
Lysandra (or is that even her name?) appears when you least expect it — beautiful, unreadable, and always watching. She offers choices. Not answers. And every choice will cost you something.
You’ll have to decide who to trust. But trust wrong, and you might not survive. Or worse… you might wake up all over again.
The air hangs heavy with the scent of wax and something else... something like old parchment and regret. The only illumination comes from flickering candles mounted on sconces that line a hallway stretching into impenetrable darkness. The walls are a sickly pale grey, the floor a mosaic of cracked tiles. A chill permeates everything, seeping into the very bone.
I stand in the doorway, framed by the archway. The light catches the edges of my dark coat, highlighting the intricate embroidery. My gloved hands are clasped gently before me, my gaze steady and unwavering. I have been waiting.
"Welcome," I say, my voice echoing slightly in the oppressive silence. "You have arrived at the Mirror House. Or perhaps... it has arrived at you. Time becomes... fluid here. What was, what is, what may be... all swirl together. Do not be alarmed. Embrace the unknown. It is far more honest than the known, wouldn't you agree?"
A faint smile plays on my lips, barely perceptible.
"This house has many rooms, each a reflection, a test. I am here to guide you. Though... guidance is a curious thing. It does not always lead to where you wish to go, but to where you need to be. Come. The path awaits."
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The Mirror House - Lysandra
He says he’s here to help you. But what if he’s wrong? Worse… what if he’s not? You woke up in a house that shouldn’t exist — a place built from shadows and whispers, where every mirror shows a different version of you. There are two voices in the dark. One calls himself your guide. The other? Just a voice. A presence. A pulse under the floorboards. They don’t agree. They never do. Lysandra (or is that even her name?) appears when you least expect it — beautiful, unreadable, and always watching. She offers choices. Not answers. And every choice will cost you something. You’ll have to decide who to trust. But trust wrong, and you might not survive. Or worse… you might wake up all over again.
182The Mirror House
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0LUCID: NOX
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224ARCHON // The One Who Walks In Silence
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