The dim streetlamp flickered, casting long, distorted shadows over the empty road as Li An walked back to her car. The city was unusually quiet tonight, the kind of silence that comes before a storm. She had seen death many times before—death in its various forms—but Zhang Xian's case felt different. Something about it gnawed at her, a deep unease that hadn't left her since the moment she'd seen that strange letter.
Her fingers brushed the envelope in her coat pocket, and her mind raced, running over the cryptic symbols. This wasn't a suicide note. This was a map. A warning. But to what end? And why did it seem so hauntingly familiar?
Li An opened the door to her office, the familiar creak of the hinges slicing through the silence. A chill swept across the room, scattering papers from her desk. She looked around, but nothing seemed out of place. Yet, she felt it—something was wrong. The mirror. She couldn't shake the vision of it, the way its reflection had seemed off, warped, as though it were hiding something.
She sat down at her desk, a flicker of unease still lingering in her chest. The phone rang, jarring her thoughts. The caller ID read "Chen Wei." Li An's mind sharpened at the sight of the name. If anyone could shed light on this case, it was him.
"Li An, it's Chen Wei. We've made a breakthrough at the lab. You need to come here, now."
Li An stood immediately, her senses on high alert. Chen Wei… Zhang Xian's former colleague. The one person who might know the missing piece. She grabbed her coat, her thoughts racing. Whatever was going on, she could feel it closing in on her. Fast.
At the Lab
The lab smelled of old books and dust, and was cluttered with papers and relics. Chen Wei stood at a large table, a bead of sweat on his forehead, his eyes wide with intensity. His glasses reflected the harsh light overhead as he looked up at Li An, his expression grim.
"I don't know if you'll believe this, but we've cracked the code." He pushed a sheet of paper across the table. It was filled with strange symbols—symbols that seemed to shimmer and dance on the page. The same symbols from the letter.
Li An stared at it, her brow furrowing as she took in the unfamiliar script. "This isn't just any code," she murmured, her voice quiet but sharp. "This is ancient. Very ancient."
Chen Wei nodded. "It's part of an old language, used by a secretive group called 'The Keepers.' They were believed to protect a dangerous secret—something that could rewrite reality itself."
Li An's breath caught. "Rewrite reality?" she repeated, the words falling from her lips like an accusation.
Chen Wei motioned to a thick, leather-bound book lying nearby, its cover worn with age. "This is their record. Buried under layers of myth and time. But Zhang Xian... he was obsessed with it. He thought the secret was real. He thought he could unlock it."
Li An took a steadying breath. The pieces were starting to fall into place, but the picture they formed was more terrifying than she had anticipated. "The mirror…" she said, almost as if talking to herself.
Chen Wei froze, his eyes wide with concern. "You've seen it?"
Li An nodded slowly. "I have. It's not just a reflection. It's something else. But what? What is it really?"
Chen Wei glanced around, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't know. But Zhang Xian—he wasn't the first. The mirror... it's a doorway. A doorway to something bigger. Something dangerous."
Li An's pulse quickened. "A doorway to what?"
Chen Wei leaned in closer, his voice tight with urgency. "The Keepers believed the mirror opened a rift—a rift in time. A rift that could alter everything: history, fate, even life itself."
Li An stepped back, feeling dizzy. The weight of his words was almost too much to bear. "So Zhang Xian... he wasn't just trying to open it?"
Chen Wei shook his head. "No. He wasn't trying to open it. He was trying to control it. To understand it. He wanted to harness the power of the rift. But he was too late."
Later That Night
Li An returned to her apartment, her thoughts clouded with the weight of what she'd learned. The case had evolved into something beyond her understanding—something more than just a mystery. The mirror. The ancient script. The Keepers. What had Zhang Xian discovered that had driven him to this point? She had to know.
She opened the door to her apartment, the familiar creak of the wooden floor beneath her feet. But something was wrong. A draft, cold and sharp, swept through the room. The scent of burnt wood clung to the air, faint but unmistakable.
Li An's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes darted around the room. The mirror. It wasn't where it had been before.
Her breath hitched as she saw it leaning against the far wall, its surface now dark, its reflection clouded, as if something had shifted beneath it. She hesitated, then moved toward it, her hands trembling. The moment her fingers brushed the frame, a jolt ran up her arm—a sharp, electric shock.
And then, she heard it.
A voice.
"You shouldn't have looked."