The walls seemed to close in on Rina as she stood in front of the backward mirror. Her reflection was no longer hers. It had become a grotesque version of herself—a mask. The twisted smile lingered, even after the words faded. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she realized the truth: she was no longer Rina.
Her body was changing. Every inch of her skin felt foreign, like it didn't belong to her. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she reached toward her face. But when she touched her cheek, it was smooth, cold, and—empty.
Her reflection stared back at her, a mocking grin etched into its face.
Suddenly, the door to the mirror room creaked open. She froze. A figure stepped inside, wearing the same face. No—this one was different. This one smiled at her like an old friend.
"You've made it," the figure said. "You're finally one of us."
It was Rina, but not. It was a version of her. A shadow. An empty mask.
The voice was her own, but hollow.
Rina opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Instead, the figure moved closer, its eyes gleaming with cold satisfaction.
And then she remembered the whisper, the one from the wall, the one that had warned her.
> "If you remember who you are, they'll take it all."
But now, it was too late. The last name she heard was her own, but it meant nothing anymore. Only the smile remained. Forever.