Lyos Lever wandered the city’s streets long after the last shop closed, his reflection flickering in every darkened window. Each pane of glass seemed to hold a different version of himself: some frightened, some furious, some with that same cold, knowing smile that haunted his dreams. He felt like a ghost drifting through the world, unable to touch or be touched, always one step removed from reality.

  He kept replaying Liora’s words from earlier: “We’ll figure it out. But you need to trust me. And you need to trust yourself.”

  Trust himself? Lyos wasn’t sure he even knew who that was. The memory gaps were growing, swallowing hours, sometimes whole days. The only thing that felt real was the persistent ache in his jaw and the weight of dread in his chest.

  He stopped at a late-night diner, more for the illusion of normalcy than hunger. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as he slid into a booth. He ordered coffee, black, and watched the rain bead and run down the window beside him. His reflection stared back, pale and tired, but at least it didn’t move on its own this time.

  He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his messages. The unknown number had gone silent, but the last text-Twenty-six minutes. That’s all it takes.-remained pinned at the top of his screen. He tried to call Soren again. Voicemail.

  A waitress set the mug in front of him. “Rough night?” she asked.

  Lyos managed a weak smile. “Something like that.”

  She nodded, as if she heard confessions like his every night. “Sometimes it helps to talk about it.”

  He almost laughed. Where would he even begin?

  He sipped his coffee and forced himself to focus. He needed answers, not more questions. He opened his laptop and pulled up the security footage Liora had given him. He watched himself walk into the alley, watched the camera glitch and freeze for twenty-six minutes, then watched himself walk out, face unreadable.

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  He rewound the footage, searching for any sign of…something. Anything that would explain the gap. But there was nothing. Just static, then him.

  He closed the laptop, rubbing his eyes. Maybe he was losing his mind. Maybe he was dangerous.

  A sudden movement in the window caught his eye. He looked up, heart pounding. For a split second, his reflection grinned-a wide, unnatural smile that vanished the moment he blinked.

  He shoved the laptop into his bag and left cash on the table, barely tasting the coffee as he hurried out into the rain.

  The city was emptier now, the streets slick and shining under the streetlights. Lyos kept his head down, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He felt the urge to run, to hide, but there was nowhere left to go.

  He reached his apartment and hesitated at the door, key trembling in his hand. Inside, the silence was absolute. He checked every room, every closet, half-expecting to find someone-or something-waiting for him. But he was alone.

  He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his hands. They were shaking. He tried to remember the last time he’d felt safe, but the memory slipped away before he could catch it.

  He glanced at the mirror across the room. His reflection sat perfectly still, eyes locked on his.

  He whispered, “What do you want from me?”

  The reflection didn’t answer. But for a heartbeat, Lyos thought he saw a flicker of movement-like someone else was trapped behind the glass, waiting for their turn.

  He lay back, exhaustion pulling him under. As he drifted off, he heard a voice-his own, but not-whisper from somewhere deep inside:

  “You’re not alone.”

  He woke to the sound of his phone buzzing. Bleary-eyed, he answered without looking.

  “Lyos? It’s Liora.” Her voice was tense. “You need to come to the office. Now. Something’s happened.”

  He dressed quickly and hurried through the gray dawn. The city felt different, as if the world had shifted while he slept. At the foundation, Liora met him at the door, her face pale.

  “There was another attack,” she said. “But this time, there’s a witness.”

  Lyos’s stomach dropped. “What did they see?”

  Liora shook her head. “They’re in shock. But they kept repeating one thing: ‘He smiled at me. He smiled, and I couldn’t move.’”

  Lyos felt cold all over. “Where are they?”

  “In the hospital. Police are everywhere. They want to talk to you.”

  He nodded numbly. “I’ll go.”

  As they walked, Liora glanced at him. “Lyos…if there’s anything you’re not telling me-”

  He stopped. “I don’t remember, Liora. I swear. I want to, but I can’t.”

  She searched his face, then nodded. “Just…be careful.”

  At the hospital, the witness-a middle-aged man with haunted eyes-looked at Lyos and flinched.

  “It was you,” he whispered. “But it wasn’t you. You smiled, and I felt…empty. Like I was watching myself from the outside.”

  Lyos’s hands shook. “I’m sorry. I wish I could explain.”

  The man just stared through him, as if seeing someone else.

  Back in his apartment that night, Lyos sat in the dark, staring at the mirror.

  He pressed his palm to the glass, half-expecting it to be cold, but it was warm-almost pulsing with life.

  His reflection smiled.

  Lyos jerked his hand away, heart pounding.

  He realized then: the thing inside the glass wasn’t just watching.

  It was waiting.

  And it was getting stronger