The mirror glowed brightly in the ritual room, its surface shifting like ripples on water. Ethan stood frozen; his gaze fixed on the images beginning to appear. Beside him, the Sorcerer watched silently, his hood casting shadows over his face. Ethan didn't fully understand the purpose of the mirror, but the Sorcerer's tone earlier had made it clear—whatever he saw, it would determine the next step of his task.
The Soul Navigator stood off to the side, quiet and glowing softly, its translucent form almost blending into the room's eerie light. It looked strangely out of place—almost like a doll: round, soft, a partial see-through being, and gentle-looking, yet somehow unsettling in the context of the ritual.
The scene in the mirror began to clear, showing a man standing on the ground floor of a building. There were two elevators—one designated for going up, the other for coming down. He entered the elevator meant for ascending and pressed the button for the 10th floor.
But just as the doors closed, the elevator jolted. It began moving—fast. Too fast. He quickly realized it wasn't stopping at the 10th floor; instead, it was speeding upward toward the top level—floor 60. Something was wrong. A malfunction, he guessed—maybe even sabotage. The elevator came to a sudden stop. The doors slid open.
Standing there was a man dressed entirely in black, wearing a black mask. Without a word, the masked figure raised a gun and shot him. The man collapsed instantly—dead.
Calmly, the shooter stepped into the adjacent elevator—the one meant for descending—and pressed the button for the lowest parking floor. When the doors opened again, he walked out, removed his mask, and answered a ringing phone.
When he took off his mask, his face looked exactly like Ethan's—an eerie reflection of himself. Ethan watched him through the mirror. It was like seeing his own image, only with a different hairstyle. It was Soul 2.
"This is him," the Sorcerer said, breaking the silence "An assassin. His story is your first task."
Ethan's eyes followed Soul 2 as the mirror revealed his life unfolding. While answering the call, a voice on the other end said, "Hello Marcus. No fingerprints, no witnesses, no hesitation. I've been following your work—I love your style. You run your show solo—I like that. I need you for a job."
The call had come from France. A client was offering him an assignment. Marcus (Soul 2) said, "I choose my contracts. I decide if someone is my target or not." Silence followed on the line.
"Thanks, but no tha—"
Just as Marcus was about to reject the offer, the client interrupted. "Two million dollars," the client said. "All details will remain confidential. You'll learn everything once you arrive in France."
Marcus paused for a second. "So, France it is then," he said with a smirk. "I'll pack light."