Luke's POV
He'd followed Arthur out of instinct, not logic.
The guy moved like a shadow—silent, surgical, like nothing could surprise him. Luke had always found that unnerving. And yet, they'd been friends for years. Maybe because Luke was the opposite. Easygoing. Loud when Arthur was silent. Fearful when Arthur was... not.
But right now?
Right now, Luke was terrified.
The thing in front of him wasn't just a mirror. It pulsed like it was breathing. Reflections rippled and twisted. His own face was there, but distorted—eyes a little too dark, smile a little too wide.
Arthur stood between him and it, calm as ever.
"Arthur," Luke said slowly, "tell me we're not about to go into that."
Arthur didn't answer.
The mirror pulsed again. Something moved within it—closer now. A shadow... or a figure? Its limbs twitched unnaturally, like it hadn't learned how to move in this world.
Then the voice came again.
"Two minds. One door. One can enter. One can watch."
Luke felt it in his bones. It wasn't sound—it was thought, forced into his head like a whisper shoved through a crack.
He took a step back. "Nope. No. Not doing this. We should burn this thing or run or—"
Arthur looked over his shoulder. His eyes weren't scared.
They were curious.
"Luke," he said, voice even. "It's choosing."
Luke's blood turned to ice. "Choosing what?"
Arthur turned back to the mirror. "Who gets taken."
Before Luke could respond, the mirror surged forward—liquid glass spilling toward them like a wave. It wrapped around Arthur's wrist and dragged.
Luke lunged. "Arthur!"
But the moment he grabbed his friend's arm, it stopped.
Everything froze.
A voice, deeper this time, filled the clearing.
"Two entered. Only one will return."
Arthur's head slowly turned. His voice, calm—too calm.
"…Let go, Luke."
Luke tightened his grip. "No."
The reflection of Arthur in the mirror smiled, eyes dark and hollow.
Luke's hand slipped—
And the world turned black.