The corridors of the tower twisted and turned, their footsteps echoing softly as they approached the next trial. They passed students, other teams emerging from their own battles, but neither of them paid much attention to the outside world. Gates' thoughts lingered on Quincy—her precise movements, the cold elegance of her swordplay, and the secrets she clearly guarded just as closely as he did his own.
It wasn't long before they reached the entrance to the third trial. The door creaked open, revealing a room unlike any they had encountered before.
Mirrors.
Countless mirrors covered the walls, reflecting endless versions of themselves from every angle. It was a disorienting sight—Gates could see not only Quincy at his side but versions of them behind, in front, and even above. The room was large but felt smaller, suffocating almost, with the way the mirrors twisted perception.
