The Mirror Horizon
[…Lord… wake… up…]
What is that sound…?
It sounded nothing like Mom.
[Lord Al Camidew… please awaken… Soon, the…]
Al Camidew…?
Who the hell is that…?
Wait—what?
“Who’s there?”
I pushed myself upright and peered toward the source of the voice.
[You have awakened. Allow me to guide you to the washroom.]
No one was there. The woman’s voice drifted out of the empty air, echoing off bare space.
“Wh-what the hell is this?!”
It sounded vaguely familiar, like a voice I had heard somewhere before. Yet no matter how hard I racked my brain, I couldn’t place it.
“Who are you?! Show yourself!” I shouted at the vacant room.
Naturally, no one appeared.
[Turn left upon exiting, and you will find the washroom.]
“…What? No, wait a second. What kind of situation is this?”
[Lord Al Camidew, there is no time to dally. Mass will begin shortly.]
“Who the hell is Al Camidew…?”
Clutching my throbbing temples, I sat on the edge of the bed. My memories—they were severed. From yesterday… wait, was it even yesterday? Ever since I laid a hand on that colossal door, everything had gone blank. It felt as though I had been violently ejected from my own flesh. My thoughts tangled into a chaotic mess, and a wave of nausea rolled through my stomach. The lingering phantom of physical agony had receded, but the absurdity of my current predicament made my head spin.
[Lord Al Camidew? Are you unwell?]
“And what on earth is this voice…?”
It was far too crisp to dismiss as an auditory hallucination. Unless I had completely lost my sanity, this was undeniably real. My senses were sharp, and the wounds carved into my hands remained untouched.
“Where the hell am I…?”
Even a cursory glance revealed that the chamber belonged to the highest echelons of aristocracy. The bed was vast enough to sleep eight grown adults, resting upon polished marble floors. Along the walls hung exquisite, opulent works of art that looked as though they could easily fetch hundreds of millions of won.
“Was I… kidnapped?”
[Lord Al Camidew, please cease your muttering and go wash yourself.]
“Haah… Fine. All right…”
I decided to clear my head and wash up first. To ease the throbbing ache behind my eyes, I drew a slow breath, letting the tension unwind from my shoulders. “Where did you say the bathroom was?”
[Head left from the exit, and you will find the washroom.]
“Right. Uh… thanks…?”
[You are most welcome. Please hurry and wash.]
Leaving an awkward word of thanks behind, I stepped out of the room.
Click.
The door swung open with a clean metallic chime. As I stepped over the threshold, a panorama completely defying imagination unfurled before my eyes.
“What in the world…?”
Beyond the room lay an endless, impossibly vast horizon. Feeling foolish, I glanced back over my shoulder. The lavish bedchamber had vanished entirely, leaving only a solitary doorframe standing upright on its own.
“Haha… I give up. I have no clue anymore…”
I surrendered any attempt at rational thought. Looking around, I saw countless doors dotting the surface of the water as far as the eye could see. To call it a water’s surface felt generous—it was merely a shallow film barely wetting the soles of my feet, yet it reflected everything above like a pristine glass mirror. To call it beautiful fell hopelessly short; it was an enchanting, dreamlike spectacle so immaculate that the line between up and down dissolved entirely.
“She said to go left, right…?”
Overwhelmed by the staggering expanse, I hesitated before taking cautious steps toward the left. Far across the watery horizon stood a small door. Or rather, it had appeared small from a distance; drawing closer, I realized it was monumental—a towering gate that stirred an unsettling sense of deja vu, evoking memories of—
“Ugh?! What… why does my head…!”
A splitting agony tore through my skull, heavy and brutal, as if struck full-force with a blunt iron club. I clamped my hands over my head and collapsed onto the mirrored water.
Memories. A torrent of memories flooded in. Unfamiliar fragments rampaged wildly through my mind. Whose memories are these? Whose? Whose? Whose? Whose? Whose? Whose? Whose? Whose? Whose? Whose? Whose?
I no longer felt like myself. Who was I? Was I me? Could I be certain? Since when had I been me? Just who… was I——
Once, there existed an entity that was neither man nor woman nor anything in between. To that being, the world was dreadfully tedious. Whatever it desired was acquired with effortless ease, until eventually, it became a godlike entity revered and worshipped by all. And just when mortals, wealth, authority, and absolute dominion had grown utterly stale, a man appeared.
That man was the greatest Archmage of The Empire. Offering up his very life to strike down the supreme ruler, he sealed the entity away for all eternity.
It was a tale as common as dirt—a classic heroic myth where a champion arises to vanquish a wicked tyrant, an inspiring fable championing poetic justice. Yet could such a chronicle truly conclude on so harmonious a note? What if the followers who once bowed before that ruler gathered together? What if those disciples coalesced into a single religion? And what if that church grew and expanded until it became a formidable power rivaling the Empire itself? What if the grand magic that sealed the entity harbored a single fatal flaw?
These were the harsh, realistic truths omitted from romantic epics. Everything that followed had long faded from public memory, for people craved only tidy, happily-ever-after endings. Even if that ancient entity were to break free of its slumber, the masses would merely lay the blame upon the deceased Archmage.
From within the depths of its seal, the entity observed the world. The longer it watched, the deeper its contempt for humanity festered. It loathed the fact that it had once shared their flesh. In the dark silence of its prison, the entity shed its human husk once and for all. It was no longer mortal. Neither human nor person nor defined thing, it simply existed. It existed, contemplating the mortal coil from afar, taking no action—until the day its devoted flock fell into mortal peril.
Only then did the entity stir. The world shuddered in terror as the delicate balance of power tilted. Proclaiming its supremacy, the being christened itself the Pope.
To shatter the shackles of its seal, the entity devised an extraordinary method. The flaw within the ancient magic lay in the fact that it had never accounted for an existence from another world—a reincarnator. By utilizing an otherworldly soul, the entity sought to unravel the seal binding it. Four hundred years. Four centuries had drifted past, until at long last, the entity succeeded in securing a suitable Vessel capable of containing its immortal spirit.
“—Aaaaargh!!!”
What was that? What had I just seen? Disgust churned in my gut, hot and vile. Retching seized my throat.
“Urrk… Bleeeaaargh—!”
I dropped to all fours, heaving violently against the mirrored floor. Nausea clawed at my insides, suffocating and wretched. Thirst burned through me. Thirsty. So thirsty. I was dying of thirst. My throat felt cracked and parched, tearing apart at the seams as if it would snap in two.
“Water… Someone, please… water…” I rasped, flailing a desperate hand toward the empty air.
“Tsk. How unsightly.”
“Wh-what… Who is it this time?!”
“Silence your tongue. Every word you utter only makes you look more pathetic.”
The voice rang out not from the air, but from within my own skull—a man's voice, bearing a strangely suffocating, imperious weight.
“Damn it, why won’t any of you show your faces?!”
“Lower your voice. You are noisy.”
“Get out of my head! You bastard…!”
I screamed at the heavens. My voice rippled across the endless horizon, echoing like a hollow cry across the glassy expanse. Scrambling up from the water, I kicked off the surface and bolted.
“Get the fuck away from me!”
“Hoh… You possess more spirit than I anticipated.”
Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it!
Why did I have to suffer through this? Home. I had to get back home, no matter what. I ran, and ran, and ran. I sprinted like a madman until the edge of the horizon finally came into view.
“Hah… hah… haaah… Home…”
I skidded to a halt at the edge of the world. Beyond the boundary of the water lay nothing but absolute darkness. A bottomless void stretched endlessly, shimmering like an ink-black night sky.
“Just what… what kind of place is this?!”
“Heh. Your courage is certainly commendable.”
“Courage…? What the hell are you talking about?!”
“Merely setting foot upon this precipice proves your resolve, I suppose.”
“…What?”
“Now, let us see if you can keep from breaking.”
Grip.
“…Huh?”
Hands. Countless hands materialized from the pitch-black abyss. Tinted in the same hue as the void, they latched onto my limbs and yanked me downward.
“Get off me! Fucking get off me!!!”
I thrashed my arms, violently tearing myself from their grasp, but for every hand I struck away, dozens more sprouted in their place.
“No!! No, no, no, I said no!!! Disappear!”
Inexorably, inch by agonizing inch, I was dragged toward the edge of the abyss. Swallowed up. Buried in nothingness. Breath—I couldn't catch my breath. Countless fingers dug into my flesh, clawing at every limb. The void pulled with the relentless, suffocating suction of a deep-sea trench.
“Kh-heugh…! Cough, you bastards…!!!!!”
I won’t die. No matter what happens, I will not die.
My vision blurred into white noise. Thought—my thoughts were grinding to a halt. Breathe. Inhale, exhale. A searing cramp wrenched my chest. Agony clawed through my ribs; it felt like death itself. Don't stop breathing. Keep breathing. I won't die. I refuse to die here. Don't let go of your mind. Hold on to your sanity.
Enveloped by the sea of shadowy hands within the void, my consciousness drifted into the far, distant ether. I drew a breath in—and let it out.
“I will not… die…”
With that final gasp, I died. Slowly—so very slowly—at an unhurried, leisurely pace.
And with terrifying calm.