Alice felt a flicker of dread.

  "You…do?" she whispered, her eyes now on Shí'àn.

  The shadowed figure took another step forward, so close it felt like a breath would cause them to touch.

  "Yes." Shí'àn's gaze didn't falter. "Because you're broken.”

  Alice felt the word like a blow.

  "Broken."

  The way she said it, so matter-of-factly, almost...gently, didn't soften the blow. Instead, it hurt more.

  She gripped the cracked mirror so tightly it nearly cut into her palm.

  "Broken?" she repeated, and she hated how small her voice sounded.

  Shí'àn nodded slowly. "Yes," she said simply. "You're broken...like me."

  Alice's heart raced. She wanted to argue, to protest...but something about the way Shí'àn said it made it impossible to deny.

  A near whimper escaped her lips:

  "...like you?”

  Another slow nod, almost...sympathetic.

  "Yes," Shí'àn said softly, her voice so gentle it chilled Alice to the bone. "Just like me."

  She moved even closer, so close the tips of their shoes almost touched.

  "We're more similar than you think, you and I..." her eyes fixated on Alice's. "...more alike than either of us want to admit.”

  Alice shook her head slightly, her heart pounding.

  "I'm...I'm not-"

  But her protests died in her throat. How could she argue with that?

  Instead, she whispered, "How...how could we possibly be alike?”

  "Because," Shí'àn began, voice soft but certain, "you're not really here, not fully."

  She pointed at the cracked mirror still clutched in Alice’s hand.

  "And neither am I."

  A pause. The silence stretched like a thin wire.

  Then she leaned in, just slightly, and whispered,

  “We’re both what remains after the mind decides to forget.”

  Alice felt something crack inside her.

  She stared at Shí'àn, breath caught in her throat.

  The words echoed, deep, dark, resonating with something buried so far down she thought it was gone forever.

  Her grip on the mirror loosened slightly. The glass trembled against her palm.

  "I...I don’t understand," she whispered, but even as she said it, a terrible knowing crept over her. "What...what are you saying?"

  Shí'àn didn't look away. Her shadowed eyes held Alice’s, not with pity...but recognition.

  "You’re not real, Alice."

  A beat passed, long and hollow.

  Then:

  “At least… not anymore.”

  The words hit harder than anything else Shí'àn had said.

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  But Alice didn't argue. She couldn't. Because some part of her, the part that lived in the shadows she tried so hard to ignore, knew it was true.

  She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Shí'àn stepped even closer.

  With one hand, she reached out, her movements almost unbearably gentle, and lifted the mirror out of Alice's twitching fingers.

  Alice felt a strange, sudden emptiness as the mirror left her hand.

  She watched Shí'àn study the glass's fractured reflection, face unreadable.

  Finally, Shí'àn spoke again, her voice quiet, almost...melancholy.

  "Look in the mirror again, Alice."

  A pause.

  Alice took a shaky breath. She didn't know what she was going to see, but some instinct told her it wouldn't be good.

  Slowly, hesitantly, she met her own gaze in the shattered glass.

  And what she saw made her breath catch.

  Instead of her usual soft features, royal blue eyes, soft freckles, curly jet black hair, she saw something different.

  The eyes staring back were darker, hard almost, a shadow-like black.

  The hair was a wilder mess, tousled as though it hadn't been tended to in years.

  The face was familiar, but sharper now in all the wrong ways.

  Alice felt something inside her twist into a knot that seemed made from ice.

  Shí'àn's eyes were still on her, watching her reaction, but for a moment, Alice couldn't look up.

  Finally, she took a shuddering breath and forced herself to meet the shadowed figure's gaze again.

  Her voice was tight when she whispered, "What...what is this…? How is..."

  She stopped, struggling to find the words.

  Shí'àn just watched her, expression unreadable.

  The silence stretched for several moments, long, endless as an ocean.

  Finally, Shí'àn spoke again:

  "You're seeing the real you," she said softly , almost gently.

  When Alice didn't respond, she added, "The version of you that you tried to forget.”

  The words hung in the air like shards of glass.

  The version of you that you tried to forget...

  It struck a nerve Alice had been trying her best to ignore. One that brought back memories she'd tried so hard to bury.

  She gripped the fabric of her shirt, fingers trembling ever so slightly.

  "The…the real me?" she echoed, voice cracking on the last word.

  Shí'àn nodded again, gaze still fixed on Alice.

  "The real you," she repeated, voice so quiet it was almost lost to the silence.

  She took a small step closer, so close now they were only an arm's length apart.

  "I'm new to Euphoria, but I've learned something during my time here: you see everything in this realm differently depending on how high or low your Sanity Index is. Both yours and mine are very low, so what you see in the picture isn't the idealized version that other people see. It's the real you.”

  Alice felt another pang in her stomach.

  How low her Sanity Index was... She didn't even want to think about it.

  She knew it was bad, but...to have this version of herself staring back at her, broken, dark, almost...wrong...it was worse than she ever imagined.

  Still, something in Shí'àn's voice had caught her attention.

  "You keep saying...ours," she choked out. "Like...like our Sanity Indexes are the same.”

  Shí'àn met her eyes, held them.

  "They are," she answered softly.

  Alice felt a lump form in her throat.

  For some reason, the confirmation hurt.

  "Y-You mean..." she hesitated, finding it hard to get the words out, "You...you're as...broken...as I am?”

  Shí'àn nodded again, her shadowed gaze never wavering.

  "Yes. Exactly the same."

  There was no pity in her voice, no sympathy.

  Just a stark, brutal honesty that hurt more than anything else.

  Alice wanted to look away, but she couldn't. She was stuck, frozen in place, staring at this strange, yet eerily familiar, stranger who was just like her.

  The realization sank in slowly, like ice spreading through her chest.

  Shí'àn was...broken. Just like her.

  Just as broken, just as lost.

  The thought was both horrifying and comforting all at once.

  For a few long moments, neither shattered individual said anything. They just stared at each other, their fractured reflections bound together in a shared pain.

  Then, after what felt like an eternity, Shí'àn broke the silence.

  "Let me ask you something."

  There was something different in her voice now, like an edge beneath the gentle tone.

  Alice glanced up, meeting her gaze.

  "What…?" she whispered, wondering what else this stranger could possibly say.

  "Do you want to be fixed?"

  Shí'àn’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but the question landed like thunder.

  Alice flinched. Her breath hitched.

  The mirror trembled in her hand again, shards catching faint light that wasn’t there.

  “I… I don’t know,” she breathed. “Is that even possible?”

  Shí'àn took another step forward, closing the last bits of distance between them.

  "Everything is possible under the right circumstances, but you have to want it."

  Another step. They were so close now.

  "So," Shí'àn murmured, her words like smoke in the cold air, "do you want it?"

  The question hung, heavy as death.

  Alice's throat felt dry.

  "I don’t know," she repeated, voice barely audible. "I...I don't know.”

  Shí’àn didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

  Her voice dropped lower, just above a whisper, not harsh, but insistent.

  “Then let me ask you this.”

  She reached out, slowly, and placed one hand flat against the cracked mirror still in Alice’s grip. A jolt passed through them both.

  “Would you rather stay shattered… or become something stronger?”

  The question hit harder than any of the others.

  Shattered or stronger, broken or intact...the choice was clear, but it didn't make it any easier.

  Alice could feel her heart racing, torn between the comfort of familiarity, broken as it was, and the allure of something...more.

  Shattered or stronger.

  Broken or intact.

  Slowly, she looked up.

  Her breath caught.

  Her eyes met Shí'àn's.

  "Stronger.”