Chapter 18

“Sometimes you look into a mirror — and you don’t see yourself. You see the person you became just to survive.”

At first, I thought I was lost. The corridor I had entered felt familiar — the uneven walls, the flicker of light beneath the water’s surface, the smell of iron and something decaying. But that was impossible. I had checked every branch, left markers. I was moving forward. Not in circles. I couldn’t be…

And yet — there was the exact same ledge. The same rusty handrails. Even a scratch on the glass wall in the shape of a broken letter “M”.

Had I made a full circle?

Or…

I turned my head. Behind my back — movement. A shadow. A human silhouette following me. I tensed, clenching my fists. But when I turned around — there was no one.

My heart hammered faster. I swam onward as if in slow motion, never taking my eyes off the cloudy glass on either side. At the third turn — a room awaited me. Not a door. Just an opening in the glass, black as a whale’s gullet. It pulled me inside, drawing me in like a dream.

The Room of Altered Reflections.

It wasn’t a room — it was a mirror. The water itself was like a surface polished to perfection. The floor, the walls, the ceiling — everything was made of a material reflecting my own body. Only the reflections didn’t match. In one, I was missing a finger. In another, a scar cut across my face. In a third, my eyes were vacant and black.

They were looking at me.

And — one by one — they began to move.

I froze like a statue. Yet my own doubles continued to live their lives. One rose from an imaginary floor and approached the “glass.” A second turned away. A third took a step, and… laughed. Nastily. Mockingly. Spitefully.

I recognized that laugh.

Thomas.

He was in the reflection — but his face… was disassembled, like a doll that had been burned and glued back together. He pressed his hand against the glass, and the surface cracked beneath it like ice underfoot.

“You left me,” he said.

“That’s not you,” I whispered. “That’s the labyrinth.”

“And what if I am you?”

The reflections stirred.

They began to argue, all speaking simultaneously — like a loud, hysterical chorus:

“You gave up Lia. You betrayed Joe. You wanted to be loved by the coach. You became just like him. You’re afraid to leave. You want to stay. You want to rule.”

The room spun. The voices blurred together. I clamped my hands over my ears — and felt that my hands were no longer my own. My fingers had elongated. My skin had grown damp, like a puppet made of wax. My image was beginning to shift — across the mirrors, my alter-egos were gaining strength. One was loud, with ragged hair. A second wore the coach’s uniform. A third had the eyes of a child.

And then, a choice appeared.

On the floor before me lay three masks.

The first — white, smooth, with closed eyes.

The second — black, with a gaping mouth.

The third — mirrored, devoid of features.

An inscription read:

“Put one on to exit. But know this: only one exit is real. The rest are a return.”

I reached for the mirrored mask. But I remembered — in the labyrinth, a mirror does not reflect the truth. It gives you what you want.

I took the black one.

I took a step. And the room — vanished.

When I opened my eyes, I was already lying in a tunnel. Low, narrow. Behind me were wet tracks, as if someone other than me had also walked this path.

To my right — a voice.

I pushed myself up. And I saw him:

Joe.

But… not that Joe.

This one was missing an eye. A scar ran across his face. And his gaze — was different. He didn’t recognize me.

He spoke:

“Miranda? You’re alive?”

“And you…”

I caught myself.

He looked at me for a long time. Too long.

“I saw you die,” he said. “I carried you. In another room. You were… broken.”

We both fell silent.

The labyrinth didn’t just reflect. It re-created. It multiplied. It substituted.

For the first time, I felt it: I was not alone. But I wasn’t just one of many, either.

We continued our journey without looking back. Because we knew: on the other side of the reflection remained those we could have become.

And they were still watching us.