Elara's knees shook, but she stood tall. The mirrors were closing in, dozens of versions of herself screaming, reaching, clawing. Every reflection tried to pull her in, to steal her memories, to replace her with a hollow copy.
"No!" she shouted, clutching the memories she had reclaimed like a lifeline. The attic. The birthday. The hidden chest. The child drawing on the floor. Every fragment she had remembered over and over. "I am me!"
The shadows hissed. Pale hands reached from the walls, the ceiling, the floor. The carved wooden door loomed above, pulsing, symbols writhing like veins, whispering: "You cannot leave… not fully…"
Elara's vision blurred as she ran forward through the mirrors. Each step brought her closer to the door… but the reflections multiplied. For every step she took, a dozen twisted versions tried to block her path.
She stopped, taking a deep breath. "I remember everything. And I won't let you take me."
She raised her hands and imagined herself holding the fragments of all the lost memories. Light pulsed from her chest, small at first, then stronger, brighter. The shadows shrieked and recoiled. Mirrors cracked, fragments shattering into darkness.
"Hold on… it's working!" the other Elara shouted from somewhere behind her. "Keep going!"
Elara ran forward again, light radiating from her chest, chasing away the twisted shadows. Her true self was stronger than the door's illusions. Every memory she reclaimed made her more real. The mirrors began to warp and twist backward, pulling the distorted reflections into themselves.
The floor beneath her shivered violently. The door at the end of the corridor pulsated faster, almost angry, but Elara didn't stop. She pushed herself forward.
The carved symbols on the door shifted again, forming her own face, smiling and staring at her. "You cannot leave… not fully…"
Elara paused, heart pounding. "Yes, I can. Because I am ME. Not the ones you trapped. Not the pieces you stole."
She lunged forward, slamming her hand onto the door. Light exploded from her chest, spilling into the room, shattering the remaining mirrors. The shadows screamed and dissolved, leaving only silence.
The door slowly creaked open, wider than before. Beyond it… the corridor stretched toward sunlight, warm and real.
Elara stumbled through. Behind her, the carved door throbbed once, then went still.
For the first time, the whispers were gone. The mansion seemed… empty, quiet, but alive in its own way.
Elara's chest heaved, her hands shaking. She had fought the door… fought herself… and survived.
But as she looked back, a faint symbol glowed on the wood the carved lines forming a face she didn't recognize. Watching. Waiting.
Elara swallowed hard.
She knew the final test was still ahead.