I blink. Inhale. Exhale
'Huh…?'
I'm standing just a few steps away from the fourth mirror.
'What the— the last thing I remember was passing the first one…'
I rush back toward the third mirror. No reflection. My pulse quickens as I turn to the second— also empty.
"Shit! What happened?"
My thoughts scatter like glass shards. I run through possibilities, but nothing fits. Time slips by, unnoticed, until a cold realization hits.
"The time…" I whisper, fumbling for my phone.
3:00 PM.
"One hour left." I steady my breathing, though it shakes. "Plenty of time… unless I have to redo the other mirrors too."
I grit my teeth, marching toward the fourth mirror— until the reflection staring back freezes me in place.
A voice, smooth and painfully familiar, breaks the silence.
"I missed you, Sarah."
Josh's face smiles from the glass, his expression unreadable.
"…What the hell—?"
"Aren't you glad to see me?"
"You tried to kill me and Yuwon, I—"
"No. That was the mimic."
The words slip under my skin like needles. I swallow dry saliva, my heart hammering.
'Why is he the reflection?'
"Why so quiet? That's not like you."
"You're not Josh," I manage. "You're part of me—another trick from this anomaly."
"Then why does it hurt you so much to see me?"
His tone softens, almost pleading.
"You always avoid me. Pretend I wasn't real. But I was. I am. I had dreams too, you know? Hopes. Desires. And now I'm nothing but a ghost in your memory."
I feel my throat tighten. "Josh, you're not—"
"Don't treat me like one!"
The reflection's voice cracks, raw and trembling. His eyes shimmer as his hand presses against the glass.
"You knew I loved you. You knew, and you let me die!"
Tears well up on his side of the mirror. I can almost feel the warmth of his breath through the glass.
"You got closer to that mimic than you ever did with me! Just why, Sarah? Why did you let me die?"
My lips quiver. "I tried, Josh. I really tried…"
"Then what about now, huh?" His voice hardens. "Are you still trying your best? Or are you just drowning in guilt again?"
He continued without rest.
"You didnt even think of me once after escaping that anomaly! No, you only every thought of Yuwon and yourself— you and your guilt!"
"I thought about you plenty!" I lash out, my voice shaking. "I thought about everyone I lost in that maze!"
"Then why do I still feel forgotten?"
The mirror ripples, distorting his face into a light hint of anger.
"Why do you remember him and not me?"
"Why did you like that mimic more than you ever liked me??"
My breathing stutters. The words twist in my skull like a curse.
The mirror trembles, and his hand pushes through the glass.
Cold fingers closed around my wrist. They crawled up my arm, to my shoulder, and finally rested against my cheek. His touch burned like ice, sending nausea down my spine.
"But I can forgive you," he murmured, his voice soft and trembling.
"I can forgive you for leading me on. For not thinking about me. For letting me die."
His hand slipped to my throat, fingers curling around my neck, gentle at first— then tighter.
"All you have to do is kill yourself. Then we can be together again."
His grip tightened, pulling me closer to the glass.
"You can own up to your mistakes by doing this… isn't that great?"
For a moment, I actually considered it.
Not because I longed for Josh—though I missed him in some small, quiet way—but because I felt like I owed it to everyone I'd failed to protect in that maze.
I closed my eyes.
Maybe it's time to—
"I'm so sorry."
The words I'd whispered to myself during my first reflection echoed again in my mind, cutting through the fog. My eyes snapped open. I slapped his hand off my neck and gripped his wrist, yanking him forward. His upper body spilled from the mirror's surface, and I wrapped my arms around him—pulling him into a trembling embrace.
"Sarah…?" he breathed, his tone small, confused— almost like a child denied a toy.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "I'm sorry for ignoring you. I'm sorry for not being there when you needed me most. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."
He tried to speak, but I didn't let him.
"But I can't join you," I said firmly. "My life hasn't been easy, but I've found purpose again. I met you. I met Yuwon. I may have lost you, but I won't lose him. I'll keep moving. I'll help people. That's what you'd want too. Im gonna make sure your tragedy wont be repeated."
I slowly released him, stepping back. "You're more than just a memory, Josh. You can rest now."
He looked at me—shock, grief, and something like peace flickering across his face.
"I'm gonna kick your ass in heaven if you join me before you forgive yourself," he muttered, a shaky laugh escaping.
"Yeah," I said, smiling through tears. "Goodbye, Josh."
"Goodbye, Sarah."
The mirror shattered like thin ice, fragments dissolving into light.
When I opened my eyes, the world had changed. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the bright light on the ceiling.
The black void was gone—replaced by the sterile white of the BAA auditorium.
I blinked, breath uneven. My gaze drifted to the seat beside me—and froze.
The nervous boy I'd spoken to earlier sat motionless, his skin pale, shards of glass jutting from his body. I didn't check for a pulse. I didn't have to.
'He broke the mirror…'
My stomach twisted.
'The manual clearly said any damage to the reflection leads to death-'
I forced my gaze away before the nausea could take hold. Around me, other recruits stirred. Some wept. Some sat dazed. A few—maybe 40 or so—remained utterly still.
'So we didn't actually enter the anomaly... only our consciousness did?'
By the time the clock read 4:00 PM, roughly half of the recruits had woken. Half had failed.
'And this was supposed to be the "easiest" trial…?'
"Congratulations on passing the final evaluation!"
The woman from before—Agent Mirea, I think—stood proudly at the podium, her grin wide and dazzling.
"The Bureau of Anomalous Affairs welcomes its newest generation of Rescue Agents! You've proven your courage, your composure, and your sanity— well, what's left of it."
A few uneasy laughs rippled through the hall.
"You've all probably heard of the Bureau's benefits," she continued, her tone bright and rehearsed. "But now that you're officially employed, let's review what being part of our family truly offers."
The projection behind her flickered, changing from the trial manual to a list titled [EMPLOYEE BENEFITS – RESCUE DIVISION].
– Full Bureau Housing: Secure, anomaly-shielded living quarters near all major branches.
– Medical Coverage: Physical, psychological, and metaphysical recovery programs.
– Pension & Hazard Compensation: Because some of you will lose a limb— or worse.
– Priority Clearance Access: For field data, classified briefings, and early warnings.
– Therapy Allowance: Weekly mental recalibration sessions, mandatory for most agents.
– Paid Leave: 14 days per cycle (subject to anomaly activity).
– Memorial Clause: In the event of death or disappearance, your name will be inscribed in the Bureau's Hall of Service.
– Contamination Treatment: In case of exposure, the Bureau provides several specialized purification protocols.
– Bureau Item-Shop: Access to anomaly-crafted gear, from combat equipment to recovery potions.
– Bureau Affiliation Usage: A bound anomaly capable of creating a personalized item attuned to your essence. The higher your rank, the more items you're permitted to forge.
"That about covers it! The higher you rise, the more benefits you unlock!"
Her tone was cheerful, but the room had gone silent. Hardly anyone smiled.
She clapped her hands again. "So! Welcome aboard, Agents. From this point on, your lives belong to the Bureau."
Her grin didn't waver, but something in her eyes did—a flicker of pity.
"Your employment begins in exactly one week at 8 AM. You'll receive an email with all necessary details: your assigned team, your division floor, and your new Agent designation. I look forward to working with you—fellow Agents."
With that, she stepped down from the podium.
One by one, the recruits— no, Agents-, rose to their feet. Some chatted in shaky excitement; others walked out wordlessly, their expressions hollow, trauma etched deep into their faces.
I stood too, legs heavy but steady enough to carry me. My hands trembled slightly as I adjusted my tie.
For the first time in weeks, I allowed myself a small, uneven smile.
'I made it.'
The words echoed in my mind— half-relief, half-fear of what's to come.
Now the real work begins.