Chapter 8: **The Echoing Hall of Lies**
Vito stepped into the next chamber, the door slamming shut behind him with a resounding *boom*. The air was cold, and the faint smell of damp stone filled his nostrils. The room was massive, its ceiling lost in shadow, and the walls were lined with tall mirrors that reflected endlessly, creating the illusion of infinite space.
"Mirrors again? Did this labyrinth bulk-buy reflective surfaces or something?" Vito grumbled, gripping the shard tightly. It pulsed faintly, offering little comfort.
Unlike the broken glass from the previous room, these mirrors were polished to perfection. As Vito walked further in, he noticed his reflections weren't quite right. They lingered a second too long, moved before he did, or smirked when he wasn't.
"Oh good," Vito muttered. "Haunted mirrors. My favorite."
---
A low voice echoed through the chamber, cold and mocking.
"Welcome, thief. This is the Hall of Lies. Here, your greatest weapon—your cunning—will betray you."
"Yeah, I get it," Vito called back. "Creepy voice, spooky mirrors, ominous warnings. Let me guess, you want me to figure out which one's real before I die horribly?"
The voice chuckled. "Not quite. But cleverness will cost you here. Let us see how sharp your tongue truly is."
---
Suddenly, one of the mirrors shimmered, and a figure stepped out. It was Vito—or at least, it looked like him. This reflection grinned smugly, tossing an identical shard between its fingers.
"Well, well," the reflection said. "If it isn't my favorite subject—*me!* Don't I look good?"
Vito raised an eyebrow. "Great. Just what I needed: a narcissistic evil twin."
"Evil?" the reflection said, mockingly clutching its chest. "That hurts, pal. I'm not evil. I'm *honest.* And I'm here to help… by telling you what you don't want to hear."
Vito sighed, his patience thinning. "Alright, let's get this over with. What's the deal?"
The reflection leaned closer, its grin widening. "This labyrinth? It's not a test of strength or bravery. It's a trap. Every step forward, every little victory, just pulls you deeper. You're a rat chasing cheese in a maze, and you don't even realize the walls are closing in."
---
Vito snorted. "Yeah, thanks for the pep talk, Shadow Me. Real inspiring."
The reflection's grin faltered. "You don't get it, do you? This shard? It's not your ally—it's a leash. You think you're surviving on your wits, but the labyrinth is *using* you. And when it's done, there'll be nothing left of you but an echo."
"An echo, huh?" Vito said, pretending to think it over. "You mean like you? Because honestly, you're kind of annoying."
The reflection scowled. "Mock all you want, but deep down, you know I'm right. You can't win. You're just delaying the inevitable."
---
The shard in Vito's hand flared suddenly, its light reflecting off the mirrors and flooding the room. When the glow subsided, the reflection had multiplied. Now there were dozens of them, each wearing the same smug expression, each holding their own shard.
The voice returned, louder this time. "Choose wisely, thief. Only one path leads forward. The others… will destroy you."
Vito sighed, his eyes scanning the room. The reflections all looked identical, but something about the one directly ahead of him felt *off.* Its shard didn't pulse like his did—it was completely still.
"Alright, listen up, clones," Vito said, stepping forward. "I'm not playing this game. I've got enough issues without arguing with myself."
The reflections laughed in unison, their voices overlapping like a discordant choir. "You already *are* playing, thief. The question is: are you ready to lose?"
---
Vito hesitated, then grinned. "Oh, I never lose. I just… creatively survive."
He turned to the false shard wielder directly ahead and tossed his real shard at its feet. The reflection blinked, momentarily confused, and in that instant, Vito lunged. He grabbed the shard and shoved it against the mirror the reflection had emerged from.
The glass rippled like water, and the reflection let out a distorted shriek as it was pulled back into the mirror. The remaining reflections shattered instantly, leaving Vito alone in the now-silent chamber.
---
The shard in his hand flared brightly, and a new doorway appeared in the far wall. As he walked toward it, the voice echoed one last time, its tone dripping with disdain.
"You've escaped this time, thief. But the labyrinth is patient. And it always takes what it's owed."
Vito rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, ominous threats, yadda yadda. Tell you what—send me a postcard next time."
As he stepped through the doorway, the shard's light dimmed, and the air around him grew warmer. The path ahead stretched into darkness, but Vito grinned despite himself.
"Keep throwing your worst at me, labyrinth," he muttered. "I'll keep outsmarting it—and myself—every time."