The air was razor-thin.
As the shards of the mysterious mirror scattered across the throne room, reality itself shuddered. Not just the physical realm—but the soul-layer beneath it. Darius knew instantly: the mirror was a tether, a sealed gate tied to the Mirror Realm, the fragmented construct of soul-reflections he had touched before… and it had just broken.
A scream—Kaela's scream—still echoed in the spiritual residue.
But Kaela was beside him now, very much alive, her body tensed, her eyes flickering with unstable voidlight. "That…" she whispered, her voice raw, "was a moment I remember, but never lived."
The throne room began to bend, walls stretching like melted glass, shadows pulling at impossible angles.
Celestia fell to her knees, clutching her head. The psychic backlash was unbearable. Nyx bared her blades, ready to strike at phantoms.
Then—it stepped through.
